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 May 2017 carissa
Frankie Newton
history doesn't repeat, it rhymes
through paper and lies
blood and wine
sins of people who don't know why
you and I
and those who die
and other such misremembered lines
 May 2017 carissa
Charlie Renaud
What is success? To some it's a desire to be the best of the best
To some they just want to be better than the rest, but it's hard to be average when you can't pass their test.
In my mind, an ongoing strife, knowing I've been a failure my whole life.
That's why I write poetry, shows I've got passion, knowing with insight, there's no need to ration.
I may not be smart and I **** at biology, but using my mind and the aid of technology, I can share with the world and now that you know it,
It's time that I share with you the birth of a poet...
 May 2017 carissa
Sally A Bayan
(haikus)

eggs aren't done yet,
deep frying oil sizzles loud,
my eyes meet pale red,

i anxiously taste
Korean strawberries......but,
..........eagerly, i sniff,

home smells of....fried rice,
garlic...coffee...petrichor,
sweet scents...wafting 'round.


   (10w)

youTube plays
Moondance by Van Morrison
shoulders sway...fingers tap.

i glow...while singing
with Don Mclean's
Starry Starry Night.


strangers knock, looking for never-heards,
at six AM?
very extraordinary!

then guards
warn us of strangers,
a bit too late!

clatter of china says,
table's ready...
wait...
rain is pouring!

where're you,
Creedence Clearwater?
have you ever seen the rain?

gosh....the dogs again!
...chased away
both cat and kittens :-(


     (14 lines)

the table...now speaks loudly
of perfect sunny-side-ups
mushroom omelet with sliced sausages
there's toasted bread......fried rice,
and fried plantain bananas, too,
all steaming hot......the aroma
......of arabica........brewing...
the many unexpected moments
that keep popping out of the blue
create a palette of bright colors
and moods for this new day...
i await more of these "unexpecteds,"
this  flow of eclectic poetry
really knocks me off my feet :))


Sally


Copyright April 23, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(one Sunday morning in April)
 May 2017 carissa
Jonathan Witte
The girl in the black
bathing suit swims
through my dreams;

her orange eyes warn
me that summer
is coming.

An inescapable
swelter of air
threads itself
through the slats
of picket fences,

crisping insects
and terrifying
an army of black birds
bivouacked in the trees.

I hear the soft explosion
of hibiscus, red petals as
bright as belly wounds,

and the heartbeat
of the dog panting,
stupefied by the heat
of a relentless star.

Up and down the street,
abandoned children call
out from the bottom of
empty swimming pools.

I slouch in an aluminum chair,
trying to get black-out drunk
on warm gin and tonics.

The tidy rectangle
of grass around me
ignites in a legion
of slender flames.

I remember the dark room
and my father’s deathbed,
his whispered, final words:
dying is thirsty work.

I strip to my underwear
and fantasize about ice.
I pray for the neighborhood
sprinklers to spring to life.
 May 2017 carissa
Jeff Stier
Where I live
crows crowd the sky
black kites in the wind

Inscrutable dark eyes
take my measure
as they pass
tell tales to the gale
herald the storm

Where I live
springtime makes her bold attempt
a moment of sun
fragrant blooms beyond measure
and fails yet again

Where I live
rain drowns the lowly worm
beats down like
the teacher you despised in school

And the sea!
The ocean has come to churn
here
miles inland

My eyes are raingrey
my spirit presses upward
the rain presses down

Yet I breathe!
The air is sweet
the moments of sun
and endless blue
miracles of the hour

I treasure these times
beneath a sea of showers
the Pacific Ocean
rolling over the coastal hills
arriving here at our door

This lush green world
whose verdant measure
is spoken in tongues
its secret heart desires the tempest
demands the rain
insists upon its prerogative.

How can I say otherwise?
 May 2017 carissa
Traveler
Do you know that feeling
When unexpectedly
A friend or family member
Exposes their bigotry?
Well, I can be very out spoken
Bigotry after all is
A cognizant distortion

I recall last summer
In the marketplace
The sun rays
Blessing the day
Children laughing
Parents smiling
My voice welcomes all
Some of the kindest people
I have ever met
Mexican migrant workers
Such a pleasure to appease
Used tables, chairs and dressers
And used shoes on their children's feet
A Muslim man his wife and daughters
All greet me with kind words
The gleam within their shopping eyes
While on guard to be reserved
Native Americans I do respect
Their culture and their lands
For after all upon their blood
Is where America stands

And with this beautiful tapestry
Hanging upon my days
I'll stand against the hatred
America's oldest plague.
I actually have my own mini flea market
I use to follow the circuit
Before my show grew to large
Now I rent parking lot and set up
If I didn't love people, I'd go broke.
  
Traveler Tim
HP Feb 16
 May 2017 carissa
Mr Himel
You are the girl with a golden heart
Gave me smile and made the start
Start of a new journey, new passion
You are my soul now, my emotion

I won't think twice to tell you something
That I'm falling in love with everything
Everything you do, you say or think
You are my drug now, you are my drink
I like to your comments
 May 2017 carissa
Mr Himel
She is the cutest smiling girl
She can never get me bored
She is prettiest laughing doll
She can never be ignored

She is the happiest blushing girl
She will always enjoy her day
She is the brightest giggling doll
She will smile, whatever they say
I like to read your comments.
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