Section A In September 2016 …a Showcase For P H Poets …. [to Each Her/His Own; Time: Its Limitations; Personal Preference; Giving And Receiving; Usually-Monthly Display] Poem by Bri Edwards

Are the poems included here the 'Very Best'?
I know of no way, such a theory, ever to test.
Some ‘works' you may like, some you may …..NOT.
Some I may enjoy immensely [they really 'hit the spot'].
Others are 'just OK' for me, but, THEM, you may love,
as I do DISbelieve, but YOU may BElieve …..in 'God above'!

In my mind there is some speculation about my time …..spent ….
on these showcases to which some of my ‘friends' have …..sent ……
poems I assume they wish to share with you Readers.
[Some of my friends are really amazing poem-breeders! ]

Now, I never promise that any of those bred will be read,
(when used by me in these monthly writing displays) ,
except by 'yours truly', and maybe Savita and Annette,
BUT, as like with me, your sharing will help fill your days!

August's showcase is shaping up very well I will add;
the response by writers and a ‘few' readers makes me ….glad ……
….that I am still providing this showcased poem affair,
where all who are willing can their offerings share!

I'll wait a week more or so to see if I get any more ….
so, if you're contemplating sharing, get off the darn floor,
and Proofread and Copy-and-Paste to me; it would be ….nice …..
to share some more poets'-thoughts OR lives, if only a …..slice.

(August 18, 2016)
Bri :)

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********* i am making a MAJOR CHANGE in SEPTEMBER's showcase presentation. i shall use the first poem submitted by each of the first 15 contributors to fill a SECTION A.

for second poems of contributors in SEPTEMBER, plus any first poems received after SECTION A is 'FULL' of 15 poems, i will have a SECTION B, on a fresh sheet of computer space on my PH site.
so there most likely will be two SEPTEMBER showcases listed in my PH list of my poems, with one title ONLY DIFFERING from the other because one will have 'A' and one will be 'B' in my poem's title. i hope this is clear to all of you! ! !


IF 15 poets do not submit poems by, let's say the third week in September, i shall close the Section A and put any more poems submitted into Section B, up to fifteen (15) poems, including 'late-arrival first poems' and any 'second poems'. confusing? i hope not, because i don't want to try to explain it again! :) :)

with two (2) sections, i hope to make it more convenient for (especially) dedicated submitters, and readers, and ME to 'use' the showcase. i hope i am correct. i was prompted to do this by one of my 'good PH friends'. thanks. feel free to tell me if you like the new way or not.
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Section A's:


THE POETS AND THE TITLES: [listed in chronological order as they were received, from first to last]:

1 - Annette Aitken

Walkie Boots

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2 - Tom Billsborough

True Hunger

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3 - Savita Tyagi

A Floating Cloud

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
4 - Beach Girl

Distractions

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5 - Elisabeth Anne Wingle

I Fear

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6 - Bharati Nayak

A Reason To Smile

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7 - Kim Barney

Limerick Series: The Terrified Taxi Driver

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
8 - Bri Edwards

He Never Had A Lot

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9 - Della Perry (i'm sure Della won't mind if i steal this)

Old Lady Trolley

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10 - Paul (aka Andy) Brookes

We Are Not Amused

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11 - Clarence Prince

On A Certain Day

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12 - Kelly Kurt

Retraced Steps

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13 - Valsa George

Lone Traveller

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14 - Sk Nurul Huda

We Were Lucky

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15 - Douglas Scotney

Desert

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PLEASE GO TO SECTION B****** of SEPTEMBER 2016's showcase to see more
poems, by some of these same poets and probably by some others as well.

bri :)


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******In order to read MORE first-submissions by poets and ANY second-submissions [up to a total of about 15 for Section B] this month,
PLEASE go to my 'poem':

'Section B In September 2016 …a Showcase For P H Poets …. [to Each Her/His Own; Time: It's Limitations; Personal Preference; Giving And Receiving; Usually-Monthly Display]' 8/26/2016

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THE POEMS: [listed in REVERSE chronological order, with the first received at the bottom of the list & the last received at the top of the list]

15 - by Douglas Scotney


Desert

Desert just over the back fence
took ants to drying out rats and pets,
removing their organs,
trying out preservatives
and being hardened to squeamish stuff
from a very early age.

When the or became stacking rocks,
when into big Egyptants they grew,
it took them to drying out humans too.

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14 - by Sk Nurul Huda


We Were Lucky

we were lucky
we found a fine place
according to our requirements.
we dug it deeply
so we were happy
as Maurya was getting the report
of the deep grave of Bartley.

we discover..God is with us.

next we were walking to the praying ground
like a military march,
for Salat-al-Janazah for him.
the atmosphere was fine -
sunny afternoon it was
with a light breeze.

we discover again...God is with us.

when we reached home a handful of rain drops
caused the suppression of our minds and
the unbearable heat and sweat to vanish.

we discover again..God is with us.


we are seventy km from Dhaka.
my brother went there for marketing,
the dresses and some food...
now he is safe in our preferred grave...
we are successful..
oh! You the terrorists
come and have a look on us
what we do…
assemble your mind and ears and
heart and brain…and... Conclude and follow.

we discover again...God is with us.

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Bri's note: As I do with other poets at times, I gave Nurul
some 'suggestions' for 'adjusting' the English in the poem.
I do NOT require poems in the showcase to be exactly as I would
write them. If, after I make suggestions, a poet wishes to
leave the poem as it was sent to me originally, that is ok with
me. Nurul took suggestions and kindly retyped it in the above form.
Thanks, Nurul. Sometimes I make suggestions but put a poem in before hearing back from the poet. I will make some edits later, if requested, but it does add a little work to these heavily-burdened shoulders! ha ha

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13 - by Valsa George


Lone Traveller

I am now a lone traveller,
Roaming to find my filial roots.
Long begun this endless search,
From the days I started to think and feel.

In the roaring crowd that moves along,
And all the faces I chance to glance,
I search for a ‘Mother', who cast me out,
Into the dark hide out of a vacant street,
Still smelling of new born blood,
And still fresh with severed cord,
To be eaten away by ants and rats,
Or to be trampled over or crushed beneath.

Did she do it with a quivering heart?
Or was it in her hurry to rid?
Who would tell me who she was?
What she did and where she lived?
Was she so beggarly made?
Or was she bearing a bastard child?
Had she fallen into a deceitful trap?
Or was she one, too young to tend?
When such questions plague me mad,
Slumber quits me with dreary nights.
Often my thoughts hurl to the past,
To live once more those cheerless days-
The days I stayed in a Destitute Home,
With a hundred other kindred souls.

Life was always a ritual there.
Getting up and going to bed,
Eating thrice and taking a nap,
Having a bath and changing dress.
Never once sensing a loving touch,
Or ever relishing a fond kiss.

Later someday, a couple came,
And took me with them to an alien land.
There I had such kingly days,
But always with a barren life.

Now I wander all day long,
Across the dingy streets I lay forlorn,
With hopes so bright and fancies wild,
To see my mother emerge from the crowd,
With hands outstretched to hug me once,
And own me ever, this forsaken child!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bri' note: Valsa gave me the option to change the word
'Traveller' to 'Traveler'. i declined, as 'traveller' is
the accepted 'British' alternate spelling of 'traveler'.

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12 - by Kelly Kurt


Retraced Steps

In the wee hours of a mid-spring night, I had been restless
It was unusually warm outside and cloudless
So I took a thought filled ramble
The still leafless trees cast spider shadows
Backlit by a gibbous moon in a star stained vault
I chose a brilliant star and locked my gaze
My eyes scarcely looked down
Each step changed my view
The star, though fixed, turned corners with me
Playing peek-a-boo with oaks as I neared them
I felt a peaceful universe swathe me in silence
Arriving back home, I fell fast asleep
And dreamed the dreams of a child
The next morning was April at her best
Temperate, alive and fragrant
I started the day with another walk
And retraced my steps as closely as I could
Down the gravel alley, behind the old church
And winding across the sidewalks in my small town
The naked trees were jarring in the harsh light
Our local star, too severe to ogle, blanched the sky
The universe released me from her hushed embrace
Into the diurnal disorder that is daylight
No two walks could have been closer in course
No two walks could have been more remote in experience

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
13 - by Valsa George?

? ?

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11 - by Clarence Prince


On A Certain Day

On a certain day
The Lord shall be on the way
That time He is coming to stay
As man is without power to control
A world that's too big for man to patrol
Giving way to stealing and killing
While others are weeping and wailing
Some are urging God to be closer at hand
Those who understand they shall stand
In line with those of His happy band
For their place in God's promise land
Note the Lord shall be on the way
Here is what I can surely say
The righteous they should be glad
But as for the ungodly it'll be sad
Sinners seek for your repentance
Give up of your worldly inheritance
Save up treasures in heaven
Where moth and rust cannot destroy
Where thief won't break in and steal
Where life will no longer be on wheels
Where the enemy won't be hard at your heels
Seek to find you some salvation deal
The Lord shall be on the way
This time He comes to stay
It'll be on a certain day.

(All rights reserved.)

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10 - by Paul (aka Andy) Brookes


We Are Not Amused

I ask the Muse to give me clues
and whilst she's at it find my shoes.
While we're together, might we reflect,
just a modicum, ....... of respect?

She makes me laugh, she makes me cry,
while all the while I wonder why?
cruel and callous, no mistaking,
takes no prisoners, no placating.

she wanders where she sees fit
when I'm ecstatic or in the pit.
an amazing amusing Muse she is not,
knowing what little talent I have got,

she wakes me from my beauty sleep,
and from my bed she makes me creep.
then fetching paper, pen and ink
write lines of poetry that mostly stink

a right virago with a banshee's wail,
she makes me ill, she makes me rail.
pricking the balloon of ego and pride,
she never gives me an easy ride.

still, when all is said and done,
it may not be good but has been fun
and though sometimes she is very bad
I know without her I'd be lost and sad.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
9 - by Della Perry


Old Lady Trolley

I bought a trolley
An old lady shopping trolley
So that I could carry my heavy food
Without my arms aching
Since I crashed the car
Because of a cat
£130 cheque in return
Car squashed into a metal cube!
But just my luck
My new trolley has a wonky wheel
And to top the week from hell
I've caught nits...

Life is the pits

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8 - by Bri Edwards


He Never Had A Lot****

My big brother, Jimmy, never had a Lot...
on which he'd Planned to...build his house.
But as a kid he had on his head...a 'Dot',
.....which turned out to be a Tiny Louse.

Before Jim turned ten, and I turned Six,
he was a 'Holy Terror' around our small home.
[Our mom spanked him for his 'Dirty Tricks',
but his behavior Followed him as he did roam.]

When he turned eleven he had grown So Tall!
NO more spankings happened if he broke a rule.
And later he Excelled at sports (like basketball) ,
and Somehow he graduated from Our high school.

No college was in my brother's Unplanned-Life.
He learned a little carpentry and 'Got Along'.
He married 'Young' and had himself a nice wife.
But he often was 'nodding off'....over their bong.

Then along came 'Viet Nam', and he got 'Called Up',
to serve his country against the 'Communist Threat'.
He trained to kill, though Mom called him 'My Pup'.
Just two days in 'The Nam', he died, He never was a 'vet'.

So at 20 years old My Bro' died. He never got a Lot.
BUT [in Arlington Cemetery]... at LEAST he got a plot.

(August 28,2016)

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****Bri's note: i am starting to compose this now, only for viewing
in this showcase. i'm typing it right into the showcase. :)
AND, i had a brother in VN, but he is still alive and pretty well and over 65 now, married and with a 'lot'.

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7 - by Kim Barney


Limerick Series: The Terrified Taxi Driver

An old cabbie was driving his hack
When he got a sharp tap on the back.
His mind got quite muddy
When he heard 'Hey, Buddy! '
And he thought that his nerves would just crack.

He emitted a hideous scream
And profanity flowed like a stream.
His cab hit some debris
And smashed into a tree
And the front end was spouting forth steam.

The passenger there in the back
Thought the driver was some maniac.
'You behaved like a fool!
Why did you lose your cool
From a simple, small tap on the back? '

'I'm sorry, it could have been worse.
I thought I was hit with a curse.
A surprise was your jab;
I'm not used to a cab;
For ten years I've been driving a hearse! '

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Bri's note: if you have an accident while driving a hearse, at
least your passenger won't sue you. :)

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6 - by Bharati Nayak


A Reason To Smile

Every time
A sigh transforms
A lamentation changes
To a flower
And fills the white paper
The vacuum
No more remains a vacuum
The beautiful angel surrounds a soul
The fragrance escapes to cosmos
The pulse and beats
Pulsate life
Cosmos throws a reason
To smile

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5 - by Elisabeth Anne Wingle


I Fear

I Fear

I fear death
I fear evil
I fear cruel and heartless people
I fear guns
I fear strangers
I fear things we say in anger
I fear loss
I fear the pain
I fear the world has gone insane

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4 - by Beach Girl


Distractions

With coffee in my right hand and papers in my left
I didn't even spill a drop, who knew I was so deft

I strolled into the garden and sat upon my bench
Happy as a lark I felt that this would be a cinch

I spread my work before me upon the cold, stone table
And thought how peaceful this would be, but then my plans unraveled

As I began to pay my bills I soon grew quite distracted
A blue jay on the old grey fence was raising quite a racket

He claimed there was a problem, with finding worms that day
I blew a kiss, said goodbye and then he flew away

Horrified I witnessed a knock down drag out fight
Between two squirrels up in a tree, oh it was quite a sight!

Ants crawled up my coffee cup and down into the pool
They swam around a little while but found it wasn't cool

Upon that cold, stone table the wind began to blow
My pencil rolled onto the ground and papers flew like snow

I ran to catch my Visa bill and also my Discover
But then I threw my hands in air and said to self, 'Why bother? '

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Bri's note: this poem was in a showcase last year also, which is
ok with me.

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3 - by Savita Tyagi


A Floating Cloud

I am like a floating cloud in this
Vast open seemingly barren sky.
Hidden in my bosom millions of tiny vapors,
Formless, colorless, faceless,
Waiting for a chance to get a face, a color, or a form.
In their expression I find a bit of my identity.
But very often I float around
Carrying that mysterious world within.
That veiled mysterious world-
So near yet so unknown.
Every now and than a flash of light escapes from it
Like a meteor bursting on night sky.
It touches me, inspires me,
Illuminates my whole being for a moment.
Then every thing becomes quiet again,
Like nothing has happened.
Mystics call it the world of silence-
Unfathomable.
There all is tranquil, all is calm.
This infinite space within-
The substratum of life,
It holds me, cuddles me, guides me through.
Always pulling me with some magical energy
Yet always beyond my reach.

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2 - by Tom Billsborough


True Hunger

Hunger makes dreams.
Themes constantly recreate
Images that revolve
In my mind's kaleidoscope.
Last night I wandered down a street
Composed entirely of chocolate:
Dark for the brickwork,
Milk for the roofs and sills,
White for the mortar and the drains.
The windows, dull, opaque
However had the appearance of cling-film.
I had a sudden sense of terror,
Wondering what witch lurked under cover
In her sweet abode
Thinking me much to her taste.
I strode onwards to a new horizon
Where a field of poppies clothed my fear
And the street behind melted into oblivion.
If hunger brought the image on,
It was a momentary pang.
And later on I thought how trivial my fear
When I consider those whose dreams
Must circle round a bowl of rice,
Clutching at the entrails of despair,
Those who live each day
In the awful grip of hunger.

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Bri's note: i was 'supposed to' put this into the August
showcase, but i got sidetracked. my apology goes out to '
my 'good friend', Tom. but, being a gentleman (i think) i'm
sure he is happy to yield the #1 spot to his gal-countryperson,
A.A. :)

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1 - by Annette Aitken


Walkie Boots

New walkie boots I bought today
I need to test drive them in some way
up the hills and down the glens
over the mountains and back again.

Across the rivers or by the sea
Across the fields of cows and sheep
jumping mucky trofts and creeks
making sure the boots don't leak.

Walks the dog around the loch
no wet feet, no smelly socks
the walkie boots have done their job
kept my feet all snug and warm.

We survived the test today
we live to wander another day
my walkie boots are here to stay
they make my feet happy in everyway.

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The End

Thank you, the poem-givers and the poem-readers.

Come again.


:) bri

9-26-16 I just corrected 'It's' to 'Its' in the title!