February 2023 Showcase Of P-H Poems I, Bri, Have Enjoyed...[ Sharing; Variety; Entertainment ] Poem by Bri Edwards

Bri's Introductory Poem:

' Write a nice title ', or so PoemHunter does say to ME, so…
I guess I should comply, as my time on PoemHunter is FREE!
BUT, what if I write a not-nice one, or 1 which P-H calls illegal?
Would it be like walking [with no leash] my Siamese or beagle?

Recently I submitted a two-part January showcase; have you seen IT?
I skipped a Dec. showcase, so had too little space & time to FIT ……..
the backlog of mostly 5-star poems I'd (for showcases) collected,
and now the backlogged poems SIGH, feeling themselves neglected!

Below, If I have 'no trouble' doing it, I'll present some of those sighing, ....
and hope YOU will read them and comment. Please, Readers, NO lying!

(January 14th,2023)

Bri Edwards
:)

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Let the show begin:

1 -

Vincent Van Gogh 48 - Theo Surprises Vincent


A few days after his dreadful walking expedition,
Vincent was sitting on his bed, weak and weary,
Copying some prints listlessly, when suddenly,
Someone opened the door without knocking,
Entered his humble hut. It was his brother Theo!

Theo, younger brother of Vincent,
Leaned against the door of the shack,
Stared at Vincent with horror.
Theo was unable to digest that his older brother
Lived in such a pathetic, awful surrounding.

Vincent was lying on a dirty bed with nothing
But an old blanket. He looked frightening,
With his red beard scattered like a forest,
All over his face and neck.
He was unwashed and unbathed.

After the initial shock, Theo rushed near his bed
Asked him: ' Vincent, what in God's name is wrong?
What have you done to yourself? '
Theo placed his hand on his brother's face with affection.
He was unable to speak with misty eyes and a lump in his throat.

Theo spoke to Vincent for a while and then said firmly:
'First of all, I am going to load you full of the best food
I can find in Belgium. You've been starved,
That's what's the matter with you. And then I am going to
Give you a dose of something for that fever.'

Vincent was surprised to see his beloved brother.
He smiled for the first time, after many months.
As Vincent tried to get up, Theo leaped beside him.
'Lie down, you idiot! He cried, and don't move again,
or I shall be forced to thrash you! '


A Biographical Poem

Geeta Radhakrishna Menon

Saturday, December 17,2022

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2 -

Remember When?


Two old men at a table sat
and had themselves a little chat.

'Remember how we partied all night long? '

'Yes, so many things that we did wrong!
We puffed those cigars ‘til the smoke was thick.'

'And drank all that whiskey and got so sick!
And in the buff was how we went swimmin'.'

'And remember how we would chase those women? '

'Of course I remember, you silly guy!
But the thing is, I can't remember why! '


Belle Wassermeister

Saturday, May 30,2020

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3 -

December Days


December days in Bangladesh
Are the best of all!
Short and cool,
The gardens all around colourful,
Sprightly sunflowers worship the sun
New grains are stacked in the farmers' barn.

New vegetables grown in farmlands,
Find their way into the kitchen stands.
The misty morning turns into a bright day
As the sun appears and the mist goes away.
In December, the afternoons are hard to find,
The noon seems to be in a hurry to hide behind.

Today is the Winter Solstice.
Very few people will take notice
Of the shortest day and the longest night,
Oh, how soon the day will go out of sight!
On such a short December day I was born
On a Sunday, just before the sun went down.


Dhaka

Khairul Ahsan

Thursday, December 22,2022

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4 -

Funny Fact


What elderly people miss the most in their lives,
You would think,
Their spouses who have passed.
No, husbands and wives,
They come and they go.
But, lose their drivers license.
That's the end of the world!
They may be on their death bed,
But, they still have their drivers license.


Darwin Henry Beuning

Thursday, November 3,2022

Bri's Notes:
I used this poem, though 'who misses what the most' depends on a person's relationship with her/his spouse/partner AND on that person's 'dependence on' and/or
'enjoyment of driving'. Of course, a person doesn't need a license to drive, if she/he can get away with it. But, 'look out for' THOSE DRIVERS! ! They may kill YOU before they kill THEMSELVES.; (

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5 -

Nature Trail


At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.

There are caterpillars waiting
For their time to come to fly,
There are worms turning the earth over
As ladybirds fly by,
Birds will visit, cats will visit
But they always chose their time
And I've even seen a fox visit
This wild garden of mine.

Squirrels come to nick my nuts
And busy bees come buzzing
And when the night time comes
Sometimes some dragonflies come humming,
My garden mice are very shy
And I've seen bats that growl
And in my garden I have seen
A very wise old owl.

My garden is a lively place
There's always something happening,
There's this constant search for food
And then there's all that flowering,
When you have a garden
You will never be alone
And I believe we all deserve
A garden of our own.

Benjamin Zephaniah Friday, January 3,2003


Bri's Notes:
Here, I'm sure, 'nick' does NOT mean 'cut slightly', but is British slang for 'steal'. And here, I'm sure, 'nuts' is NOT American slang for 'testes'.

And, in 'But they always chose their time', the author MAY have meant to use 'choose'.
'Choose' is an 'irregular verb' whose present tense is 'choose', but whose past tense is 'chose'. How's THAT for 'making English difficult to learn'? ? :)

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6 -

Cheerleader Tryouts


You'd think that cheerleader tryouts
would be a closed affair,
held in the gym
under the watchful eye
of the teacher in charge
and very few others.

Not at my high school.

Tryouts were held in the auditorium,
on the stage, with the entire
student body in attendance.

I can't remember if it was
after school, or if a special
assembly was called,
during class time.

No matter.

I can still remember the agony
when one smart-mouth kid
called out: 'Hey, Linda Bella!
Move so that we can see
those four girls behind you! '

I didn't let his words crush me.
(I could have crushed him
just by sitting on him.)

Not only did I make the squad,
but they elected me captain.

I was much more athletic
than he was. He tried out
for the basketball team
but didn't make it.

At the end of that year
I received the MVC trophy
(most valuable cheerleader) .

He received nothing,
not even a diploma.
He flunked out.

I should feel vindicated,
but I don't.
I feel sorry for him.


Belle Wassermeister

Tuesday, August 20,2019

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7 -

Poetry Is Sexy


Poetry is sexy
Its lyrics aim to please

Poetry is sexy
Engaging in its tease

Poetry is sexy
It radiates with verb

Poetry is sexy
Every idyllic word

Poetry is sexy
Refined for purity

Poetry is sexy
Stripped of subtlety

Poetry is sexy
When read between the lines

Poetry is sexy
Laced with frilly rhymes

Poetry is sexy
Both singular and plural

Poetry is sexy
Every exclamatory swirl

Poetry is sexy
Grammatically raw

Poetry is sexy
Even typos and all

Poetry is sexy
Consummated publicly

Poetry is sexy
When performed properly

Poetry is sexy
Irrespective of its font

Poetry is sexy
Fashioned any way you want


Brian Dorn

Tuesday, April 10,2007

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8 -

The Street Girl


You don't want to marry me honey,
Though just to hear you ask me is sweet;
If you did you'd regret it tomorrow
For I'm only a girl of the street.
Time was when I'd gladly have listened,
Before I was tainted with shame,
But it wouldn't be fair to you honey;
Men laugh when they mention my name.

Back there on the farm in Nebraska,
I might have said yes to you then,
But I thought the world was a playground;
Just teeming with Santa Claus men.
So I left the old home for the city,
To play in its mad, dirty whirl,
Never knowing how little of pity,
It holds for a slip of a girl.

You think I'm still good-looking honey!
But no I am faded and spent,
Even Helen of Troy would look seedy,
If she followed the pace I went.
But that day I came in from the country,
With my hair down my back in a curl;
Through the length and the breadth of the city,
There was never a prettier girl.

I soon got a job in the chorus,
With nothing but looks and a form,
I had a new man every evening,
And my kisses were thrilling and warm.
I might have sold them for a fortune,
To some old sugar daddy with dough,
But youth called to youth for its lover,
There was plenty that I didn't know.

Then I fell for the 'line' of a 'junker',
A slim devotee of hop,
And those dreams in the juice of a poppy;
Had got me before I could stop.

But I didn't care while he loved me,
Just to lie in his arms was a delight,
But his ardour grew cold and he left me;
In a Chinatown 'hop-joint' one night.

Well I didn't care then what happened,
A Chink took me under his wing,
And down there in a hovel of hell --
I laboured for Hop and Ah-Sing
Oh no I'm no longer a 'Junker',
The police came and got me one day,
And I took the one cure that is certain,
That island out there in the bay.

Don't spring that old gag of reforming,
A girl hardly ever goes back,
Too many are eager and waiting;
To guide her feet off of the track.
A man can break every commandment
And the world will still lend him a hand,
Yet a girl that has loved, but un-wisely
Is an outcast all over the land.

You see how it is don't you honey,
I'd marry you now if I could,
I'd go with you back to the country,
But I know it won't do any good,
For I'm only a poor branded woman
And I can't get away from the past.
Good-bye and God bless you for asking
But I'll stick out now till the last.


Bonnie Parker

Thursday, September 2,2010

Bri's Notes: 'Hop - Slang for Opium, heroin, or other narcotic
or psychoactive drugs'.

And, 'island out there in the bay' I'm sure refers to Alcatraz Island, formerly
home to a federal prison offshore from San Francisco, California (USA) ,
AND now a tourist attraction and National Historic Landmark. My wife and
I toured the place, as visitors, NOT as inmates. I read that the inmates could
eat as much as they wished to at a meal.


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More poems MAY BE added, at my, Bri's, convenience! ! !

Thanks to poets and readers and commenters. I hope some commenters will inform poets of their comments. bri ;)