~~
All had been removed
one by one
Take all!
But do not take away this little light
Open the window
Let the wind come

I will not protest any day
will not say against you
Even when I got empty I do not want to
Those yellow crops,
Fertile barren fields
all yours

Do not want to
Never ask you for anything expensive

But in return
I want to see those yellow marigolds,
The silver moonlit of the lonely moon
And a newly bloomed red rose,
The aroma of gardenia in the air
For my awaiting beloved,
So Let the wind come

I'll give you more!
The Hidden gold pitcher of my grandma,
The Saved Silver coin of my ancestor,
Gold, precious locket,
Antics-
The Diamond Crown
– All -

But want to return
My beloved's smile which has taken from
The golden shining day where I had left her
The very Sweet Southern wind where my Spring plays
My lost grasshopper

Lost love Song
My mother's simple smile,
The paper boats of my springtime,
My grandma's fairytale
And a piece of open sky where I take a little breath

Where my kites of dreams fly
Dances with Seven colors of love
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

I was young
And you were beautiful
You were laughing
At my youth
I didn’t know
That you were lying
All I saw was naked truth
You were bored
I was a plaything
Killing time
Late afternoon
Came the evening
Shared a cigarette
Blew some smoke rings at the moon
Went inside
You made a drink
Said you needed time to think
The phone rang
I was thoughtful
Went into the other room
Turned the TV on
So I couldn’t hear
When I came back
I found you’d gone.
You left a note
Not of apology
But of conclusion
Just the same.
And a twenty for the taxi home.
You said that you were glad I came.
PwL  5/24/15

The Man in the Moon will be leavin’ soon
Officially, he retired.
But Polaris and some other stars
Are saying he got fired
The Man in the Moon would never leave
Of his own volition.
Management, cutting back on costs,
Is phasing out his position.

His quarterly reviews have not been going very well,
They say he isn’t any good with change.
When he gives his full attention, he seems to do ok,
But lately he’s been acting kind of strange,
His bosses claim he sleeps all day.
And on cloudy nights, he stays away,
(It’d be age discrimination if they said he’s getting old)
So they say that he won’t listen and won’t do as he is told.
They say because he has seniority,
That he resents authority,
Won’t show his new boss how the job is done,
And in their final summary, out of ten, they gave him three,
Said that he doesn’t hold a candle to the sun.

But those of us who know his work
Know he would never, ever shirk
Responsibility, or jobs that must be done -
At night when he works overtime,
Countless souls look up to him, but
At night they’ll never, ever, see the sun.

If The Man in the Moon is told to leave
Our lives will be amiss,
So I took a poet’s initiative
To make management a list:

Reasons Not to Fire the Man in the Moon
Who will watch young lovers kiss?
Who will push and pull the tides?
Who will occupy the space
Where The Man in the Moon resides?
Who will tell the farmer when it’s time to plant his field?
Who will lead the eclipse when the sun needs lunar shield?
Who will be the subject of songs and nursery rhymes?
Who will notify the werewolf when it’s his changin’ time?
Who will calm the sailors after stormy nights at sea?
Who will make a silhouette of an owl in the tree?
Who will light the children’s path each All Hallows’ Eve?
Who would raise vampires from their coffins
Were The Man in the Moon to leave?

I ask these questions with a plea
Knowing that, if it were up to me
And I had the power to blunt the cutter’s knife,
We’d leave the Earth and Heavens as they’ve been for all these years,
And The Man in the Moon would have his job for life.
PwL  5/24/15w

I grew up in a country
now I live in a business.
America has been stolen
and morphed into
a fascist Disneyland.
Our women are told
if they don't look
25 when they are 60
they don't exist.
Our children are taught
not to ask questions
or defend themselves.
Our young people
are commanded to go
to college, get on
the endless treadmill
of the American Nightmare
or they are failures.
We warehouse our parents
at great expense
so we don't have to face
the reality of death.
Our men sell themselves
for money and power
they can't take with them.
Courage, thrift, honor,
all replaced with greed,
the last recognized virtue.
The only remedy is to say no.
Try to remember what is important:
protect your loved ones,
love your friends,
reject the latest and greatest;
turn off your TV.
You won't change America,
that is lost for good.
But you might change yourself
which is much more important.
The rich will stay rich,
the powerful will keep their power,
the business will keep on chugging,
but you will be yourself,
a sane person in a country gone mad.
  ~mce

Poetry: A lot like wine.
Can’t drink too much,
Nor all the time,
Each wine unique -
A different taste
Sip.      It.      Slowly ……
Don’t drink in haste
Try one with a fruity flavor,  
Or maybe it’s a dry you savor,
Sample all the current trends,
Don’t be afraid to share with friends.
So all us wannabe sommeliers
Can compare it to the Bordelaise!
Don’t be content - Experiment.
Try something new!
Tasting should be fun to do!
And like the rarest of all wines
Good poetry endures through time.
Phil Lindsey  5/16/15

~

someone told me once,
poets are a dime a dozen;
yes, "we've chosen a craft
that a pittance pays"
and are most oft
recognized only
by the ashes
of the pages,
the words
we leave behind.

yet, i say write,
write today
like your life
depends on it...

for most of us
it doesn't,

but for all of us
our epilogue
just might!

so write!