A Later Oct.2021 Showcase..... [ Sharing Others' Poems From P-H] Poem by Bri Edwards

A Later Oct.2021 Showcase..... [ Sharing Others' Poems From P-H]

Rating: 5.0

Introductory Poem:

It's October 29th and I'll stay up late to share with you
several P-H poems I've enjoyed, not just one or two.
Ok, so what if ONE of them is from my own hand?
You don't HAVE TO read it; I think I'll understand.


It's the least I can do these days on a site, nearly 'gone to pot',
a mere shadow of a site which for years I really 'loved a lot'.
Well not 'gone to pot', but headed, perhaps, in that direction.
To members new here, what I refer to is beyond your detection.

There are very few typos in the poems below, I do now 'swear',
but even I, Bri Edwards, makes them, so don't you despair.
Enjoy what you can, and, if you must, yawn at the others.
Tonight I'll rest, I HOPE, without guilt, under my bed covers.

October 29th,2021


A Cracked Letter

I chanced to see the letters,
You wrote me a long long ago,
Each alphabet,
Stood before me with an image,
That hid so many stories, and
So many tender moments of affection.

I held them in my palm,
Smelt the scent,
That was hidden under each syllable.
The letters were worn out by time,
The folds cracked,
As each one of them were read and re-read
Innumerable times,
Lost the strength
To bear the emotions
That were falling heavy on them.
Some syllables had vanished by tear drops
Some had vanished in the folds.

As I held the letter,
Bits of paper fell in my lap,
Reminding me of the time gap.
I gathered the torn pieces
Tried to join them in their places
But some syllables were
Never to be found.

Bharati Nayak Saturday, January 19,2019


Never Argue With A 3-Year Old

My three-year-old put his hand on his chin
like he was mulling over something troubling
'But, Papa, ' he moaned, 'I pway wifh these! '
His room was cluttered from wall to wall--
books and crayons, even an old football,
an old sippy cup, its contents long dried up,
cars, trucks strewn about from a huge pileup,
game pieces and his Christmas roller skates,
and things I'd long forgotten he even owned.
'Straighten it up, now! ' I commanded.

He began to pout. 'It's myyyy wooom, Papa.'
Stifling a tear of my own, I nodded, agreeing,
'But YOUR room is in MY house, ' I explained.

When I stepped out and closed the door,
I heard stuff being tossed hither and yon,
So, I stood there for a good long while, and,
this is what I heard: 'Otay, I queen up my woom,
but next year for Quissmas....' then, loudly,

Loud enough for him to hear, I replied,


Wednesday, March 24,2021


A Baby's Laughter

Each time I hear a baby's laughter
I feel a tickle in my heart.

I have to stop and listen better
Catching each note of musical art.

Such innocent laugh in joy released,
A soothing balm for a wearied soul.

All earthly worries seem to ease,

A baby's laughter makes me whole.

Cynthia BuhainBaello

(Composed July 18,2008 -Tarlac City Philippines




I want you to feel
the insufferable loss of me.
I want you to feel as though
you're unable to function
without me.
I want your body
to quake and quiver
with the fantasy of me.
I want you to sweat
and howl; to run

in wind and hail,
through bracken, branches
and stinging nettles
and find me
in a queue at Tesco's
and tell me
those awesome words.

Lucienne Kim Flavell

Friday, November 9,2012




The rhythm of the scythe plume
In the summer heat.
The step-by, step-by cadence
Of the old man's steady feet.

The zip-saw of the whet-stone
Against the metal blade.
The wizened hands like leather
That never knew the shade.

And I am just a child again
On a tumbled stoop;
Watching ancient haying,
Marveling at the crop

Of tumbled swathes of timothy
Symmetrically alive,
Falling layer on even layer

To the mercy of the scythe.

Adeline Foster

Saturday, October 25,2008



A Lonely Cloud.....[nature Observation; Humor]

I saw a lonely cloud one day.
It looked small beyond the Bay.
I tried to find a second and failed,
even though I looked each way.

Think of it! A single cloud.
Its loneliness spoke to me aloud.
I wonder how it felt up there.
Was it very proud?

A rarity I think it was;
like an active bee with no buzz;
like a single potato chip;
like a peach skin with no fuzz.

Like one firefighter at a fire;
a solitary pigeon on a wire;
a Facebook member with no 'friend';
a single member in a choir.

It's like an Easter basket with one egg;
a basketball star with one leg;
me with just one word to say;
a fraternity party with just one keg.

I guess you've come to realize by now
that when I saw that cloud I thought 'Wow! '.
If I'd been Adam, with Eve at my side,
to that small distant cloud I might bow.

(August 2012)

Bri Edwards

Thursday, August 30,2012



A Gothic Encounter (Scary Halloween Poem!)

An unkempt man approached me one dark evening
'In pursuit', he said, 'of a favour'
'A drink' he explained, but I was unsure of his meaning
When he specified it should be of a refined yet peculiar flavour
Then as he percieved I was not repelled, he moved nearer to enhance his rapport
Until in the light of a streetlamp I could see the bottle he held
And I wondered what fate had in store

It was clear now he was dressed in strange clothing
Of a style that one rarely meets

Except for perhaps if roving, in a town of Dickensian streets
I failed not to judge as I leaned closer to hear just what he might suggest
I thought 'how gracious of me to humour this poseur
In his pale make-up, black bowler and velvet overvest'

On the bottle he held his black fingernails drummed
They were varnished as per his morbid fashion
And in his throat the tune he hummed
Spoke of past revels and passion
Until at last had mustered his confidence and a pleasing tone

In which he proceeded to intimate his desire
That alas, he possessed no blood he could call his own, so therefore he was forced to enquire
As to the possibility of a small donation, it would not take much time just a tick
The procedure requiring just two things worthy of mention
Those being a vein and a slit

Of course I recoiled aghast, and vainly attempted to call
As I found I could not make a sound
Then it was only when my head lolled down that I saw
His feet hovering an inch from the ground
I was unable to engage any muscles as a fingernail pierced my left wrist
Or when he filled his bottle with a pint of my best red corpuscles
Then pocketed it with a hiss

He said he could see why he might be reviled
For the comtempt he had treated me with
Then he parted his lips and smiled
To allude to the fiendish alternative
It was a smile of rapacious appearance, that made my heart shiver and shudder
For as anyone could tell from even that quick glance
His smile was a smile like no other

Then with a doff a wink and a smirk
He smoothly departed our puddle of light
And melting into the inky black murk
He receded into the night
Now whenever I am about after dark
I determine to not be so too late
And ever since that experience left it's cruel mark
I portage garlic cloves, holy water and a stake

Mike Michaels

Saturday, October 29,2011



Fifth Grade: October 22,1985

in fifth grade
my teacher said
i talked too much

she used shears
and a metal spool
of extra-wide adhesive tape
to shut my mouth
zzzzip, snip...
zzzzip, snip...

zzzzip, snip...
zzzzip, snip...
zzzzip, snip...
zzzzzzip, snip...
zzzzip, snip...
in a crazy quilt of adhesive silence

that morning, other kids

and asked me questions
as i sat there mute
dumb, an unanswering mummy

that noon, mouthless
i couldn't eat lunch
i was a girl with no mouth
no mouth, no talking
no mouth, no lunch

that afternoon, another teacher
came to our room
to borrow some chalk
she saw my face
she stared and stared at me
but not a word to my teacher
about me or my condition

after school, in detention
the tape burned
as it finally came off

in the girls bathroom mirror
i stared at my own face
a network of red tape mark lines
my skin a map of martian canals
and grey adhesive stickum bits
that wouldn't come off
no matter how i scrubbed

at home, my mother noticed
the rubbery grey bits on my face
(the red had faded)
and i had to explain
how my teacher silenced me
with adhesive tape
but my mom interrupted:
'well, you probably had it coming! '

in my room, i cried and cried
silenced twice
in a single day

Alana Krueger

Thursday, December 10,2015

Comments, pro or con, are always welcome, though i hope commenters will share comments also in a message to me, not just on the poem's page. My showcases have appeared most months here for more than five years, usually monthly. I hope you will visit the sites of some of the 'participating' poets. bri ;)
Bri Edwards 29 October 2021

! I believe P-H stole my comment, 'saying' i was too wordy (like my wife says) and I FORGOT TO COPY THE COMMENT BEFORE TRYING TO SUBMIT IT. ; : (

0 0 Reply
Dr Dillip K Swain 01 November 2021

I remember one of my poems was featured in your showcase 3 years ego. I have to wait when you would be kind enough to put my second poem. I like your selection!

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Dr Dillip K Swain 01 November 2021

This showcase contains 9 beautiful poems. Hearty congratulations to all esteemed poets.

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Bharati Nayak 01 November 2021

The poems 'Never Argue With A 3-Year Old', 'Fifth Grade: October 22,1985', 'A Gothic Encounter (Scary Halloween Poem!) ', A Baby's Laughter, Howl, A Lonely Cloud ---all the selected poems are so marvelous!

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Bharati Nayak 01 November 2021

Think of it! A single cloud. Its loneliness spoke to me aloud. I wonder how it felt up there. Was it very proud? -----Such a lovely poem.

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Bharati Nayak 30 October 2021

Hi Bri, Thank you for including my poem in this amazing Showcase poems!

0 0 Reply
Bri Edwards

Bri Edwards

Earth, i believe
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