Section B In February 2017's ' A Showcase For P H Poets'... [ Up To 15 Poems From P H Friends; Expanding Horizons For P H Members & Visitors! ; Different Poems For Varied Tastes! ] Poem by Bri Edwards

Most of this introductory poem is not very new,
so it may sound very familiar to you & to YOU.
If 15 poems times 3 becomes too much of a chore …
for me to fulfill, I MAY limit Sections to 10, NO more.

As Section A is almost filled [it is NOT weak],
allow me to ink some words quite meek.
[they won't be heard above a mouse squeak]
'Please, at this Section B, will you peek? ? '

January's showcase was a rousing success,
for me, if not for many others, I do now confess.
I do my ‘thing' on PH and you all do ‘yours'…..but …
I'm sure many of you, like me, have other chores.

I like the ‘almost-new' format of my/our monthly display,
but if YOU do not, all I can say is: 'A, B, C is OK …..
with me! '
So send me a poem(s) to share, or just you read, ….
and comment perhaps, …..OR simply pay… no …heed.

(February 13th 2017)

Bri :)


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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.

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********To offer a poem, PLEASE: ******** [This list of requests is new in February 2017]

0NE:

Send, via a PH message, your complete poem AND title [as it appears on your PH site, unless it does not appear on PH already, …which is ok].


TWO:

Tell me if the poem is on your PH site OR not.


THREE:

PROOFREAD your poem, MORE THAN ONCE. It is time-consuming for me to communicate back and forth with a poet about typos or other possible irregularities I think I would not want in the showcase! BUT, I understand some poets may have ways different from mine, especially if they are not American native English speakers! :) I KNOW that 'my way' is NOT the 'only way'.

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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! ].

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

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1 - Unnikrishnan E S

Loneliness

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2 - Brian Johnston


Ode To A Missing Beer

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3 - Bharati Nayak

On Your Brows

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4 - Bri Edwards

Speak To Me, Moon... [speaking to The Moon; Fantasy; Humor; Very Short]

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5 - Della Perry

Echoes Of Ridicule

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6 - Clarence Prince

A Little Safe Fun

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7 - Lynn Petty

Our Twin Granddaughters

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8 - Annette Aitken

The Knocking...

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9 - Valsa George

In The Comfort Of The Shade


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10 -? ?

****************** I'VE MADE A CHANGE OF PLANS THIS MONTH! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! JUST THIS ONE TIME, FOR NOW.

THIS MONTH, FEB., IS SO SHORT (28 DAYS THIS YEAR) and BRI IS SO SHORT-ON-TIME, THAT I HAVE DECIDED TO GET BUSY CREATING MARCH'S SECTION A and I AM ALSO................................
..........GOING TO TACK THE STARTED SECTION C FOR FEB. ONTO THIS SECTION B. I SHALL NOT DELETE SECTION C, BUT READERS NEED NOT GO TO SECTION C TO SEE THE FEW POEMS IN IT. OK? IT HAD BETTER BE! ! !

ha ha. bri ;) :) :)
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[up to a maximum of 15 poems in each Section] [go to Section C, when it is open, if you wish ]

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HERE ARE THE AUTHORS AND TITLES WHICH ARE FOUND IN FEBRUARY'S SECTION C:

1 - Bri Edwards


'6 Foot 3'...... [ LONG; Scary; Gross; Murder]

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2 - Unnikrishnan E S

It Is Life

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3 - Long Tooth

Animal 'Quackers'

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4 - Lora Colon

Daredevils


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

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AND HERE ARE THE THREE POEMS WHICH WERE/ARE IN SECTION C THIS MONTH BEFORE I DECIDED TO MAKE THEM AVAILABLE (this month) ALSO IN SECTION B. i hope on one is terribly confuse by this anomaly! ! !

4 - by Lora Colon


Daredevils

Help me escape the cares of life,
Be the wind beneath my wings,
Dream along with me, what partners we'll be,
Together we'll do wondrous things

We'll be daring, but not foolish,
We won't fly close to the sun,
From Icharus I learned we could get burned,
For some things just should not be done

But you and I are not mindless,
We'll be daring but careful,
I'll take your hand, but you must understand,
When you lead, I'm always prayerful

You want to take me to heaven?
Sky diving.... how exciting......
That may be manic, may cause some panic,
Even a little nail biting!

What? How about deep-sea diving?
We'll go to the ocean floor? !
Just a suggestion? I have one question:
Have you ever done this before?

Now you're starting to frighten me,
Maybe we should think this through -
I'm not a coward, but I'm being devoured
By doubt, so here's what we could do:

We'll climb that hill and count the stars
That fall from the sky above,
Or, since it's so late, let's end this debate....
Why don't we stay home and make love!

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3 - by Long Tooth


Animal 'Quackers'

There are people I think who consider me friend,
But I don't know for sure that they're right,
I may walk like a duck, even quack like a duck,
But I doubt that that means we won't fight.

I bought animal crackers in box as a child,
But you can't purchase friendship that way,
I've found friendship is messy, can even be wild,
Ideology even holds sway.

So then how do you know if somebody's your friend?
ALL ARE BROTHERS if you honor Christ!
It's an unlikely outcome if you're slave to trend
That views friendship as way overpriced.

I think friendship means man must be Christian at heart,
God CAN'T care if he 'knows' Christ or not,
Loving God and such man simply can't be apart,
If not true, then God's just tommyrot.

In this spirit let us love Republican queens,
Although Satan's grabbed them by their crotch,
For they seem to believe that end justifies means,
And take pride in each body, each notch!

Or let human race die but creation survive,
Man unworthy of Science or Grace?
Tooth and claw of the dinosaurs once again thrive,
And humanity's sin thus erase!

(February 23,2017)

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2 - by Unnikrishnan E S....(an English translation; see my note)


It Is Life

These are the pages of my life
Some are frayed, some folded;
When the storms wreaked havoc
Often wrecked, yet survived
My life has got ensnarled;
On which intersection
Do I get it disentangled?
And my desires fulfilled?

I have a long way to go
The roads are not easy
And I do not know why
Weather changes so often

But, of hope I have a ray
That I'd be able some day
To achieve my destination
Search for which is still on.

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Bri's Note:

This is a translation of the Hindi poem Zindagi * by KAVITA SINGH,
which is in Section A of this February showcase.

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1 - by Bri Edwards


'6 Foot 3'......[long; Scary; Gross; Murder]

I'll tell you a crime story that you've never heard,
But first you'll have to promise to not spread the word.
It started many years ago on the Massachusetts coast.
Most of those who know of it are now themselves ghosts.

It is a murder story frightful and most ghastly.
If you mention it to the police they'll laugh, and YOU may be the victim, lastly.

After high school in the 60's I attended Boston College.
I went there for the social life, and to gain some more knowledge.
While there I joined a fraternity made up mostly of jocks.
Initiation week they made us attend classes with no shoes or sox.

I'm getting off the track a bit as does happen often.
I think too many drugs in the 60's caused my brain to soften.

A member of my fraternity was a B.C. basketball star;
He was scouted by the pros and it was felt he'd go far.
He was 6 foot 7 and his meals were supersized.
He was my closest friend and I enjoyed looking up at his eyes.

One night in the off season he went drinking at a bar.
He left the joint at 2 A.M. but he didn't get far.
He was found by a sanitation worker early the next morn.
His skull had been bashed in; his massive throat was well-torn.
It was a campus and Boston sensation, a sad one it was true.
I was crushed by his passing and from college I withdrew.

I had lots of money from my grandma; I did not need a job.
I moved to Miami and became a beach bum, not a slob.

Within three years two more murders were added to this story.
The descriptions of the bodies found were EXTREMELY gory.
One, a 6-4 white male prostitute, had been eviscerated.
The police photos of a black female socialite,6-3, were XXX-rated.

My parents lived in Santa Monica and insisted I move home.
I settled in their guest house but at times I still did roam.
I met and dated a wealthy,6-5, fashion model………
The largest piece of her flesh found would fit inside a large bottle.

I started, then to see a shrink; I worried I'd go crazy.
I'm telling you my story's true, though at times details are hazy.
I spent ten years in analysis, which cost a lot of money,
But I believe it helped restore my faith and my outlook was more-sunny.

Then one summer I did Rio Mardi Gras; it was my BEST vacation yet.

But back home I learned my doctor had been found in his red Corvette.
What was left of him, I should say. I hesitate to here linger.
He'd been shot twelve times and was missing his left ring finger.
His skull and most of his ribs had been busted.
The once-shiny car had been burned, and his body was all-crusted.
By the way my doctor was 6 foot 4; could that be a clue?
I then checked into an upscale nuthouse for a month or two.

I was there on my own accord. My parents thought I was 'shopping'.
The docs did not believe my stories; my anxiety was not stopping.

So I moved back to the guest house. 'Mom and Dad, did you miss me? '
Fat chance! They were busy with their lives, though once my mom did kiss me.

I found another psychiatrist, this one of short stature.
I met a pretty clerk at Starbucks and at the altar I did catch her.
The marriage lasted all of six months. No pregnancy, thank God.
I had it annulled, gave her twenty grand, but I still miss her bod.

My weekly doctor's visits went as well as I'd expected.
I tried a run for Santa Monica mayor but did not get elected.

Two more murders in my story just happened this year.
They were the murders of my parents for which I shed no tear.
It was an inconvenience, though, cleaning up the mess.
The police photographer threw up; ……hardened detectives cried no less.
I had to hire TWO murder cleanup crews. Their bills were a sin.
But still, afterward, I found pieces in the bushes, which made me grin.

There were other bodies I now realize I've forgotten to mention.
I can see from the look in your eyes I've gotten your attention.
All the victims were at least 6-3 (my mom WAS 6 foot 4, my dad was 6-7) .
Maybe all are gazing down now at us from a tall-people's heaven.

My doctor says I'm the murderer; she told me for a fee.
I'm really glad I met you; you're pretty as can be.
I'll bet you're as tall as me; I am 6 foot 3 inches tall.
It's getting dark and I love you. Let's drive to the mall.

(2012)

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(here, below, i go back to Section B) :

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9 - by Valsa George


In The Comfort Of The Shade

She was sweating profusely
In the midday heat
The April sun stood blazing overhead
And heat waves came down in fiery might
With brusque pricks all over!
The umbrella blocked its direct rays
But nothing could fetter the piercing heat

She felt being baked in an oven
Rivulets of sweat trickled down
From the nape of her neck and her thighs
Clinging her clothes to her legs and feet
She walked dragging her feet awkwardly
Through the cobbled sidewalk of the steaming street
At a distance was seen a tall tree
Like a desert traveler, sighting an oasis
She walked briskly to its shade
Its straggling branches with tender leaves
Was like a big open umbrella!
With a sigh of relief she wandered
Under its wooden elbows
What comfort lay in wait!

Kind to everyone and everything
It didn't deny its comfy shade to man or beast
Its branches, gnarled by long years
Gave shelter to the feathered folks

At its foot were a few cows
Away from the torrid heat, they lay
Chewing the cud and fanning flies with their tails
Those beasts disciplined in life's stern school
Didn't show any protest, but gently accommodated
The stray pedestrian without any fuss

Is not Nature a wonderful arbour
Where men and animals cohabit!

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8 - by Annette Aitken


The Knocking...

The Knocking on the door,
watching the unknown
sprawling encircling
me in a mess of confusion,
it's hard to make sense of
the jumbled up images
that flashes through my brain.
Are they memories of the past?
or a foresight into the future?
Sometimes the drive to search for answers,
can become an obsession.
Do I look for truth?
Do I look for life?
To be on top of the world,
then find yourself at the bottom of the fall.
Scared,
that the self I once knew,
might,
disappear without a trace,
but,
somehow it never lasts
as something always draws me back,
from the obscurity of the unexplained.

Thrust again into the forefront of life.

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7 - by Lynn Petty


Our Twin Granddaughters

Chelsea and Ashley Who Live in New York

From horizon to horizon, across the vast opaque of our lives,
Two living meteorites have ignited our life with the flame of affection.
Not yet adult, no longer infants, they live within that delicious
And mysterious realm of youthful fancy.
How I miss the nonsensical of the moment,
That uncontrollable childhood delight, their laughter.
Ahh, that infectious laughter of a weightless concern,
Free from the apprehension of scarcity and desire.
They leave a profound and melancholy impression by their absences,
Like an illuminated perception lost in the shadowy, nothing of night.
As loved ones far away, there is a sweetness in my memory,
And a sadness in my soul. The sweetness in the sadness prevails,
The sadness makes sweeter still the thought of their return.

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6 - by Clarence Prince


A Little Safe Fun

It can be fun to have a little fun
If good fun is coming you shouldn't run
Having harmless fun is fair exercise
Then go and have a little fun but be wise

You should beware of having certain fun
As it could later make you very stun
It sometimes happened after the fun is done
And it could leave you sad and numb

That's the sort of fun you need to shun
When discern it coming you have to run
All the same, a life without fun is done
Then it can be fun to have a little fun

A life should sweetly lived before it's done
As no one knows for how long it is come
Lovely and beautiful like the setting sun
Yet without a little fun life is good as done

A little safe fun a little safe fun
Live your life with a little safe fun
Live it right while there is chance
A little safe fun gives life a prance.

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5 - by Della Perry


Echoes Of Ridicule

The voices echo around
Bounce off the nerve endings
Hurt so much
Constant ridicule
Constant sneers.

Derision is your friend
Satire and scorn your parentage
Taunting and mockery your kin
But it is wearing thin.

The voices echo around
Bounce off the nerve endings
Pain, difficult to endure
Constant ache
Constant tears.

Anarchy is my friend
Turbulence and pandemonium cover my skin
I know I will NOT echo in my child's mind
A free spirit now, I WIN!

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4 - by Bri Edwards


Speak To Me, Moon... [speaking to The Moon; Fantasy; Humor; Very Short]

Speak to me, Moon, of what you see.
Oh! I forgot; you CAN'T see. Pardon me.

Then speak to me, Moon, of what you hear.
Damn, you are deaf also, Moon. How queer!

Ok then. Speak to me, Moon, of what you feel,
as you gaze down on our cities of concrete and steel.
What's that you say, Moon? You don't like what you see.
Well, I didn't build them, so please don't blame ME! ! |

(March 2014)

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Bri's Note:

Do you see the inconsistency i noticed in my poem long after it had
been submitted to PH originally? ? ? I decided to leave it as it is.

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3 - by Bharati Nayak


On Your Brows

On your brows
Wear a piece of my breath
Of my life
Take the days, months and years
Take the seconds, minutes and hours
And decorate your house
Oh dear, I will love to eternity.

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2 - by Brian Johnston


Ode To A Missing Beer

Oh, this is an ode to my friend's missing beer,
Gone missing in fact because he isn't here,
The pizza's consumed and I've sated my thirst,
For pizza and beer are quite often rehearsed.
I'm writing this poem and singing its praise,
So he will be sorry the rest of his days.

The pizza was tangy (beer cold as he feared) ,
The longer he tarried the more disappeared,
When friends cannot make it remember this test,
Though company's fun, a full stomach is best.
Can't say that I've given much thought to his plight,
The one thing for sure is I'll sleep good tonight.

(February 7,2017)

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1 - by Unnikrishnan E S


Loneliness

Separated you are far from me
Together are just me and my loneliness

You have been just a dream
Reality is just me and my loneliness

This pain so severe, of separation from you
Shared just between me and my loneliness

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Bri's Note:

This is a translation of the Hindi poem Tanhai Aur Main by KAVITA SINGH.
Kavita is a PH member also. :)

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NOW: if you have read your 'fill' from the treats above, please consider going to Section C of February's showcase ……..when it is open.

Thanks

bri :)

[aka Brian Edward Whitaker in the 'real world']