THE WALL OF POETRY - Hello Poetry

Apr 2015

Grizzo

Too little,
The rabbit,
Bukowski,

counted,
scheduled,
realized

that the clock
is unkind
and fate
unkinder,

In college
I went home
regularly

but the work week
doesn't have winter
or summer break,

and this town
isn't home yet
but it's the closest
thing to it,

Nights like
this I smoke
cigarettes on
my porch,

think about
what being a good son
is,

think about the nights
I didn't show up
for dinner when my dad
got home from his
forty hour weeks,

but it's all the times
I was there that bother
me the most.

NaPoWriMo #21 No prompt

#life #work #fathers #sons #bryangrissom #grizzo

Apr 2015

Grizzo

Wealth

Thirty years of monthly
payments for a roof,
garage, and backyard,

The house burns down
the day you pay
it off,

A brand new model,
heated seats, leather
wrapped steering wheel,
more speakers than
you can hear,
pride and joy,
taken from you
by some careless *******,
focused on "Me"
not focused on red
lights or stop
signs.

The frame is bent,
airbags deployed,
the insurance
writes you a check
and sends a form
apology with next
month's bill.

The newest clothes
aren't so new,
once they're washed
twice,

but we base our wealth
on fleeting things,
wood, status symbols
and cotton,

We pay ourselves
by saving money
already spent,
and paying old bills
so we can have new ones,

Wealth isn't tied to these
temporary things, easily
replaced by more
work and money

No

Wealth is created,
easily sustained,
by good night kisses,
road trips just because,
and matching shirts
for family pictures,
things that make us
remember how to be
happy,

because we are all temporary,
but our love is
not so easily
replaced.
So even if
you rent, or
you take
the bus
or you have clothes
in your closet for years

The time spent
with people you love
wil always cover
you until the
next paycheck
you've already spent
anyway.

NaPoWriMo #22, No prompt

#love #time #family #wealth #work #bryangrissom #grizzo

Apr 2015

Grizzo

Birds of a feather

There's a bluebird in my heart
too,

but unlike
yours

I like to let mine out
from time to time,

I let him spread his wings
I let him sing

his songs to me
& to the world,

My bartenders like him,
he's how I've gotten most
of the ****** into my bed

and he doesn't mind the smoke,
everyone needs a drag
from time to time,

He's the one
who prefers Jameson
and told my tongue
to not drink
much else,

I don't hide him,

But I'm not mad
that you hid yours away

I'm glad you did
because as much as you
inspire me and make me
want to share my songs

with the world,

I'm glad I'm not as angry
as you made yourself out
to be,

I get it, the image
is everything about
what seperates the men
from the boys,

and at this point I think
I'm all grown up
and we're stuck together
with the same fate,

So I let my bluebird sing
Bukowski,
because more than anything

your songs taught me

how to ****
what the world thinks.

And thank you for lying
to me

You old, drunk *******,

Because you let your bluebird
fly, you know it

and may the gods bless you
for not even trying.

I love you
*******.

Just one question,
Are you crying now?

Napowrimo #24 Write a response to a poem

#napowrimo #bluebird #bukowski #bryangrissom #grizzo

Apr 2015

Francie Lynch

Born With a Golden Voice

She was going on
About something,
But the metaphor
Wasn't universal.
Not like,
The funeral was as sombre as Cohen.

When I heard, ... blah, blah, yada, yada,
My attention span snapped,
Started thinking about those born
With a golden voice.

Tip of the fedora to L. Cohen

#voices #talking #leonardcohen

Apr 2015

poetessa diabolica

Bled upon pages of deliverance

The healing powers of poetry

   cannot be overlooked, nor denied,

aspects of life's absurdities & wonder

unfurled in translatable surrender

juxtaposition of souls midst passages,

  written words of purged sentiments

sharing humanity's scripted similarities

        bled upon pages of deliverance

Apr 2015

Sally A Bayan

BUCKETS

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

At the threshold, or doorstep
Of a ship...a gallery,
A house...a library,
It could be a forest, or a museum,
A new school or shop, a church,
An office, a factory,
On entering a new city, or country,
Take a bucket, or two
It's all up to you
There are lots of new stuff to learn,
Leave eyes, ears wide open
Be free to explore...don't worry,
Mind is a sponge,
A lot it could absorb---it is eager, for
Discovery is an adventure,
It beckons,
Knowledge awaits,
Just remember---discernment is vital.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It could be a birthday bash
A wedding, a wake
A seminar, or convention
First day of classes, new job
Or, a simple get-together
Where awakenings and enlightenment occur
Where you meet new faces, new friends
Old friends to reunite with
Maybe, someone to fall in love with
Could be somebody warm
Or cold...may be aloof
Brave...may be broken
Discernment is always vital.
When standing at the threshold of a heart,
Be more sensitive
Be more careful with your bucket
No one feels the air there, except you
No one knows what could happen
at the end of your visit
For, discovery is always an adventure
It beckons....knowledge awaits
It could build...or break a future.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

So put your hands in your pockets
But keep the fires burning
Be thirsty for knowledge
Of poison, better beware
Keep in mind: discernment is vital
It's all up to you...for,
At every doorstep
There await buckets.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sally
--------------

Copyright December 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

#future #adventure #discovery #buckets #discernment

Apr 2015

Mike Essig

Circe

Remembering Greece,
I imagine you there now:
naked, skilled in spells.

Your toes in the sand,
your bright green eyes radiant:
island conqueress.

~mce

Another form that is new to me. Be kind...

#senryu #circe

Apr 2015

Francie Lynch

Born to Mourn

I'm a born mourner;
Not a whimperer,
Or whiner;
Don't cry for me,
Don't worry for me.
Let me mourn.
Although an orphan,
A singleton,
I'm better off
Than all the dead poets,
Stacked one atop the other,
Babel high.
When that high,
It's a sudden drop.
If somethings human
Should locate
Forty percent of my bones
Sometime down their road,
Then you can worry about me.

Apr 2015

Francie Lynch

Cellmates

Begin with my skin,
White, hairy and thin;
But for my brothers,
I'm much like all others.

Dig deeper to bone,
Europe's our home.
Trowel down to my marrow
You'll uncover our Congo.

We travailed
Down our paths,
We share the same cells,
Have the same origins,
Hear the same knells.
The one difference lies in
My white, hairy, thin skin.

#race #prejudice

Apr 2015

poetessa diabolica

She's like deliquescent caramel

She's like deliquescent caramel,

the cool side of a pillow

        to lay your weary head,

subtleties of springtime &

          warmth in wintertide,

whispering hope upon lush

        Zephyrus pipe dreams,

    mellifluous nymph with wings

                 of a butterfly warrior,

softly determined,

    unfailingly true-hearted,

      whilst relentlessly ferocious

  Wise, yet sometimes struts

        blindly in the light,

      as dulcet tones of a cello's

           melodious marmalade

            in sentiment's tender fancy,

she's beauty, charm,

         knowledge, poetry,

               utter strength,

               & humane weaknesses,

she's twisted and ethereal,

           her aura sublimely captivating

     you may covet her body,

            you'll never possess her soul