Section A In November 2016 …a 2-Or-3-Section Showcase For P H Poets....[ Expanding Horizons For P H Members; Different Poems For Different Tastes; Long ] Poem by Bri Edwards

As ghosts and ghouls descend on the U.S.,
I offer a November Showcase, nothing less.
[I was referring to our Halloween festivities,
which (witch?) are not among ALL Americans'..............proclivities.]

If you are familiar with my/our showcases,
you may now decide if you'll fill some places …
in November's showcase with some poems you've written.
Perhaps some Readers will then be smitten**** …
by them!
‘On the other hand', your poems may cause DISTRESS,
and create for Readers a horrible Mind-Mess!

I'll not write, below, a LOT of information....
like I've done other months; ASK if you want............clarification!

(October 27, 2016)

Bri :)


Bri's Note on above poem:
**** There are two distinctly different ways to use 'smitten', having
very different connotations/meanings. I use it in the following sense, [thanks to Google! ]:

'infatuated with, besotted with, in love with, obsessed with, head over heels;
enamored of, attracted to, taken with;
captivated by, enchanted by, under someone's spell, moonstruck by;


informal bowled over by, swept off one's feet by, crazy about, mad about, keen on, hot on/for, gone on, sweet on, gaga for
'Jane's smitten with you' '
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Some information for Contributors AND Readers of the showcases:

Each Section (A, B, and maybe C) will hold 15 poems, maximum. EACH Section will accept ONE poem per poet, any length, any topic, any style, BUT I, Bri, will decide which poems are used. Unless a poet has arranged for me to ‘help myself', I shall wait for poems to be offered by the authors, all of whom ALWAYS will receive recognition for THEIR words.
The poems need not be new, need not be on PH already, and need not be in English [but English translations of non-English poems will be appreciated! ].

THE POETS (and titles) , up to 15, listed chronologically (more or less) in the order I received them:

1 - Annette Aitken

…..WIND….
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2 - Ging Taping

September Ends.... October Is Drawing Near

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3 - Ruth Walters

Hammers (A Trilogy)

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4 - Eugene Levich

Rio Olympics 2016

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5 - Lynn W. Petty

What Would I Say?

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Bri's Note: i also used this poem last month, as the last poem.

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6 - Bri Edwards

Halloween-Hungry: G I V E M E Y O U R B L O O D....[ Hide on Halloween! ; short]

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Bri's Note: i shall not put this poem into my main list of poems on my site. enjoy it (?) here!

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7 - B.m. Biswas


Crying-its first expression

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8 - Brian Johnston

Sometimes When I Wake

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9 - Della Perry

Queen Of Fake

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10 - Clarence Prince

The Soul Needs Care!

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11 - Kim Barney

Song Of The Sage

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12 - Andy aka (temporarily at least) Any Brookes

Corrugations, Gurgles and Umbrellas

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13 - Aries Profanisaurus [formerly John Westlake]

362.

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Bri's Note: all of Profanisaurus's poem titles begin with a number, and some have only a number followed by a period!

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14 - Savita Tyagi

Poetry! Take A Break!

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15 - Bharati Nayak

Germinating

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OOPS! i told Kelly Kurt i'd put his poem in slot 15 here (above) , but i guess i forgot. look for his poem and many more in Section B! !

bri :)

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THE POEMS (and their authors) , up to 15 (usually) , listed in REVERSE ORDER of when I received them.

[NOW: if you have read your 'fill' from the treats below, please consider going to Section B of November's showcase. :) bri]


15 - by Bharati Nayak


Germinating

How many years was I sleeping?
One thousand or one million?
Under layers of ice I was sleeping
Closed, closed deep
Amid darkness
In deep slumber was I.

One day I woke up
With raised head
I opened my window
To see
Layers of ice have melted
Sun is welcoming me
With open arms
A new world, open sky and million stars.
The air lovely
Colors abound
Green fields, blooming flowers.
I felt a touch of heavenly hands.
I breathed
I danced
I rejoiced
I mingled
And melted
In the sun beams
As I become
A dot of color
On the petal
Of a flower.

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14 - by Savita Tyagi


Poetry! Take A Break!

Purple sage and wild flowers
Scent the pristine air.
Wandering clouds in blue sky
Send scattered signals
To surging thoughts.
Ignoring the poetic messages
I walk the circular trail.

A walking enthusiast, I expose myself
To rough terrains of mountain hike.
First sporting, soon puffing and breathing hard.
I follow the trail a little longer
Stopping midway under cool shades of pine.
I give myself away to fatigue and silence
Wishing to take a nap in nature's lap.

Hills surround me,
Valley view below is fascinating.
I sit on a mossy rock for a long rest.
Words flutter behind closed eyes,
No entry written all over my mind.
Poetry! Take a break!

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13 - by Aries Profanisaurus


362.

A great white lemon and a shoe kebab
argued in vain over a taxi crab
the purple fox had already paid the fare
to the carrots in his hair

The vegetables stole his ears
and drank them in a thimble of beer
sewed their eye lids to a penguin cat
who was blowing up balloons with a baseball bat

With each swing the oyster cried from its shorts
as it watched the red garlic arms compete at sports
the spectators all wore a golfing scarf
which broke up onions while having a laugh

As the golden turkey ate them all
even the hamster 9 foot small
its eyeball legs began to smile
the jelly horse may be gone for now
but he'll be back in a while

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12 - by Andy Brookes


Corrugations, Gurgles and Umbrellas

Still the rain beats out tattoos,
monsoon proportioned.
trickling down windows.
water lances
bouncing off pavements
beating out cyclonic tunes
on corrugated roofs.
silver sprites dancing

water nymphs at play
their cachinnations
echoes syncopated rhythms
in the gurglings of drainpipes.

tarred black roads glisten
beneath the sodium orange street lights.
silver headlights shedding wayward bolts
umbrellas sprouting
revolving coloured mushrooms
and from my lofty balcony
appear as dancers in a cotillion.

then as quickly the rain stops
the dusky sunset in watery shades
of lavender, red and umber beams her smile
painting black clouds with silver linings.

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Poet's Note: Def of cachinnations: loud laughter, usually raucous

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11 - by Kim Barney


Song Of The Sage

I've been to New York City;
I've been to London and Rome.
I've been to Buenos Aires,
But the desert is my home.

Chorus (to be sung after every verse) :

Give me the sagebrush prairie;
Let me live there on the plains,
Among the quail and lizards,
Where it very seldom rains.

I've lived there in Grand Junction,
And I've lived in San Antone.
Instead of being crowded
I'd just rather be alone.

(Chorus)

I need no supermarket;
I just need a little store.
Just food and bottled water,
I can't ask for any more.

(Chorus)

Don't need to play my I-Pod,
Just hear that coyote howl!
Listen to the nightingale
And the singing of the owl.

(Chorus)

I've lived in some big cities,
But give me a LITTLE town.
NO town is even better;
The prairie won't let me down.

(Chorus)

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10 - by Clarence Prince


The Soul Needs Care!

This I will declare
The soul needs care
Despite the troubles here
We must still share
Without any fear
Loud and clear
Bold and true
We have to make sure
To send it pure
The Words to feed the soul
And to weed and control
We must not adulterate
For it has to tolerate
All what man wants to create
To make us deviate and hate
The words of God
That heals the sick and sad
And to make each soul's glad
With love and truth
For all to soothe
This I will declare
The soul needs care
It needs God's words
Though pierced like swords
Yet can heal dying souls.


(All rights reserved)

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Poet's Notes:
Seeing as, nowadays God's word has been rapidly watering down; I wrote this poem to open your eyes and ears that you might recognize wrong doctrine!

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9 - by Della Perry


Queen Of Fake

She is the Queen of Fake
Lovely and thin, sick in the bin
Every hour without fail.

Men think her great
Long blonde hair, stuck on with glue
Three hundred quid a go.

Ladies envy her grace
Beautiful figure, silicon bosom
All covered in lace.

Stunning from afar
Fancy clothes, fake tan
Expensive sports car.

She is the Queen of Fake
Close up, false tan, nails, caked on makeup and wrinkles.

But the funny thing is
Inside that plastic shell
She IS as charming as hell.

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Poet's Notes:
Sometimes ladies/men feel the need to falsify their looks because they are vile and vain, but there are also those that falsify their looks and inside are the nicest ladies ever! Never judge a book by its cover, whether fake or real.

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8 - by Brian Johnston


Sometimes When I Wake

Sometimes when I wake a poem's blossomed in a dream,
Inwardly I smile with hope this could be blessed day,
Feeling I've been gifted with a message from above,
Angels guide my pen and nothing mortal blocks my way!

Poetry's a gift that you can always count upon,
Letters to yourself on which there's never postage due,
Wisdom flows from pen you feel you didn't know before,
Haunting words help you believe that God might care for you.

Beauty in a thought, a turn of phrase that somehow shines,
Rivers of the mind that baptize all that lack in grace,
Wondering who else I'll touch if poem does ring true,
Quivering in ecstasy as tears adorn my face.

Readers may not get a poem you are sure is good,
Don't despair that no one's ever traveled in your shoes,
Grace the gift to give the others swimming in your pond,
Friends you find are kind suggest you likely don't abuse.

Worth that you desire not just popularity,
Friends are not just ones you choose but who belongs to you,
Truth that you feel led to share is gold if it's just yours,
Criticism not unkind it's just another's view.

Patience with yourself and others worthy of pursuit
Lessons even learned when you are drifting with the stream,
God can also serve you when you're blinded by intent,
Everything your muse is sharing sure to serve your dream.

(August 2,2016)

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7 - by B.m. Biswas


Crying-its first expression

When a child comes to earth from the womb,
what does he do?
He cries …
'Who are in front of me? ' It wonders.
If he takes time to give her expression
We compel by a sweet and earthly beating touch…
Yet he cries…
'I thought the happy days would never cease…' says aside.

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6 - by Bri Edwards


Halloween-Hungry: G I V E M E Y O U R B L O O D....[ Hide on Halloween! ; short]

Getting near Halloween is what this week's about.
It's the time of year Werewolves Howl, and Goblins SHOUT.
Vampires seek blood to live their lives-immortal …..
Even while Ghosts, big and small, ….shriek and CHORTLE.

Monsters, green, grey, pink, orange, and red …..
Eat boys and girls, ….some alive and others dead.

Youngsters out Trick-or-Treating should beware, …
Or they may end the night without their hair!
Unseen Beasts may also take skin and flesh,
Ripping it from bones and eating it ….while it's fresh.

But I'll be cautious; I'll hide out that night,
Lest Halloween-Hungry Creatures catch sight …..
Of me ….and grab me with claws sharp and curved,
Or gleaming fangs; I'd be easy prey, so unnerved!
Drained of blood, I'd be dragged off to feed their young.

(October 26, 2016)
BOO!

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5 - by Lynn W. Petty


What Would I Say?

What would I say to someone diagnosed
With cancer? I was asked by my Doctor.
What words of satisfaction would I speak?
Some pithy aphorism would I say;
Some passage from the Bible? I think not.

But, what I say must reach the inner man,
That place that goes beyond the ego depth;
Beyond the realm of consciousness. Deep down
It lies; that power of man's healing self.
It could be called the soul-mind of the brain.

The physical and soul-mind then resolve
Themselves into a forceful strength, both work
Together now as one creative force,
Which manifests, through one's inspired thoughts;
An image of one's body in repair.

There is a strong reliance held between
The mind and the corporeal. They form
That picture of oneself completely healed.
One lives as though it were a fact, a truth.
We know, we feel, we see, therefore it is.

The builder is the mind, the physical
Becomes the outcome. The awaking
Of one's creative power is a blend;
A merging of the physical with mind;
A prompting of the Will, to heal, takes place.

One must exclude all things that constitute
The negative; all fears, all anxious thoughts,
Which interfere and block the soul-mind's act
Of creativity. They will destroy
The vision of one's fitness and good health.

One must maintain one's might to fight this scourge.
One eats to live, despite one's lack of taste.
Maintain the strength to concentrate, through food.
For undernourishment is cancer's friend,
And malnutrition overwhelms one's goal.

Depending on the power of belief,
The force of one's conviction, will create
The actuality of one's good health.
The embryo of all existing things
Was but a thought and, then reality.

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Poet's Notes about The Poem'
Take this work for what you will. It worked for me and, I survived that scourge we call cancer.

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4 - by Eugene Levich


Rio Olympics 2016

They march in
Flags flying
Cheering, waving, laughing
Young, beautiful, strong
Cameras pan the spectators
Zoom in twice on a
Particularly beautiful woman
The crowd dances
Jumping up and down
The auburn haired beauty
Swings her arms
Joyously
She saddens me
She doesn't—can't
Know—
All this youth and beauty
Will disappear
In the blink of an eye.

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3 - by Ruth Walters

Hammers (A Trilogy)


Hammers 1

The hammer is inside her head,
it's a never ending drum beat
that is her husband berating her.

As he his key turns in the lock
her blood pressure
rises.

He'll check the wallpaper
for marks that the children
may have made.

He'll demand she keep them quiet,
take them away,
control them.

They are only toddlers
and she has only
one pair of hands

but he'll moan about it
until he goes to bed
at midnight.

As he gets into bed
his moaning will stop
but her head still aches

then at 7 while he shaves,
he'll continue to remonstrate

he won't stop
and she's sure he's still talking
as he walks to the station.

It's the hammering,
the constant hammering
it's driving her insane -

one day the hammer will fall.



Hammers 2

How many nails should I have to have
hammered into my head to realise
we don't fit?

This liaison has always been flawed.
Gel, we never did, but we had passion -
a wealth of it.

Should I take this hammer
and strike the final blow?
I don't know.

Hammers strike memories
as though they're all piano keys
and the sound is harsh..

They have me re-visiting old wounds
that I should have buried years ago.
They're awakening.

They've lain dormant for so long -
maybe I should have had one final strike
and put them to rest.

The trouble is, if I pick up the hammer
and strike the first blow,
I may never stop.


Hammers 3

She took a hammer to the mirror,
the paintings, the vase,
and battered them to death.

She took a hammer to the car,
its bonnet, its boot
and made dents.

She took a hammer to her heart,
hit it hard, tried to gouge it out
with its claw.

and then she realised -
it was already dying;
bleeding all over the floor.

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2 - by Ging Taping


September Ends.... October Is Drawing Near

Seasons change so fast
time quickly passed
Holidays is just around the corner
October is drowning* near
I'm here
standing by my windowpane
scrutinize how September end..

Memories wandering one by one
it seems only yesterday (January)
my thoughts convey
congregate what i have achieved- (did i?)
for the past few months..

staring blank,
flashing back,
'Well i gathered few success-more losses'.

In this room
I need to bloom
my Soul go with the flow
my Spirit let it grow
gather strength to build anew
assembling ideas to name a few.

BER months rushing by
2016 soon bid goodbye
Hoping in 2017
I can spread my wings and fly.

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1 - by Annette Aitken


.....WIND....

Flying over hills and dales
is sometimes where I like to play
tree tops dancing to my tune
playing hide and seek with the moon

I dash across a glassy lake
leaving ripples in my wake
then blow the leaves up off the ground
into space, then back down

As cool and gentle as I am
I am stronger than any man
pucker my lips and start to blow
watch how I make that river flow

I fill the sails of sailing boats
I help to blow them around the coast.
windmills turn to grind the grain
I can blow a hurricane :)

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When Section A is filled, please consider looking for Section B for November.

Thanks, contributors AND readers! bri :)