Section C 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 Different Tastes] Poem by Bri Edwards

Section B this month contains only 3 poems NOW; it's true,
BUT If I take the time, it will soon have more than a few.
Why, I don't even have one of mine (me, Bri) in 'B' yet.
But I have poems waiting for 'C', so BUSY I need to get!


I've been STRIVING to bring 45 fine poems a month to you,
not counting 3 ‘Section-intro' poems, (I hope are read by a few) .
For 'THAT' I'll always need about 35 PH poets' fine cooperation,
because MOST of the poems aren't of Bri's (that's: ‘my') creation!


So, if you are so inclined, send me your poems, up to three,
to use as I see fit each month in Sections A and B ……and C.
I'm always grateful and always acknowledge the author to be sure.
And if you suffer from insomnia, my/our showcases may be your cure!

(February 20, 2017)
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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! ]

PLEASE PROOFREAD your poems! :)

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

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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5 -? ?

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ETC. (up to 15)
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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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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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Thanks for joining us in Section C for February 2017! See YOU in March?

Bri :)

Bri Edwards …………..aka Brian Edward Whitaker (in the ‘real world')