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 Oct 2015
Mike Essig
Often I awaken
into a world
different than
the one in which
I went to sleep.

It's nothing
dramatic, not

people with
green hair or
cats who speak
fluent Latin or
leaves that fall
upward in autumn.

It's only a
slight difference,
everything just
an inch or so
out of kilter:

like the first
moment of
consciousness
after an acid trip
45 years ago or

the memory of
a girl I should
have kissed,
but didn't or

a slight breeze
from the distant
wings of angels

or especially
like Monet's
endless *******
lily pads
floating at
Giverny

always seen,
but always
different,

simply
challenging
me to notice,

to wake up

to be alive

that most
important thing
of all:

just to
          notice.

  ~mce
Anguished lavish
laureates has driven
me slightly mad

tangerine lemon rounds

Erudites of oolong parties
flying on the wreckages
of forgotten sideral castles

ice cubes crushed in the psychadelia

Nuances of never tomorrows,
slicky dew drops
glistening
jadded wells of deep thoughts
callin'
green algae lakes
emerging

Pale planes oozing
silvery Neptune forks
n'waves flyin'from above

witchery wands in love with wondrous comets

Thou sparkling dispersive
master machine mind
feedin' on
oak wooden spoons
tightly, tenderly
sippin'
magnified tinder
from thy glances

daemons of thy unconsciousness breathing

me *******
flow and ebb
thou chest ebb
and flows

bonvivants bountyful beams

The inflamable black
powder burnin'
to take off
like a swift rocket
like a swell day's
endless delight

The gold
The pink
The brave new horizons


Openin' grunges and volcanic
desires
pinnin' lovers, gluein' them to-
gether in a desperate gloom
of unforgiven erotica

And The Poems
who make you tremble
as a luscious cream on the top
of Thou Vicious Beauty

*fenderstrater jaguars silent roar
 Oct 2015
Akira Chinen
A simple life full of simple things
Is worth more than all the crowns
Of all the kings
 Oct 2015
raine cooper
i think how we need to be loved as adults stems from our childhood (or lack thereof).

if you were abandoned, you need to be smothered, to know every second that you're adored. but as a child you were always alone, so the very love you crave makes you feel suffocated and crawling white knuckled to get out.

and so this war rages inside of us, until we have exhausted ourselves & perhaps those who were brave enough to extend their hands.

©raine cooper
 Oct 2015
Nat Lipstadt
A Birthday Poem for Sally B:
what-matters-can-neither-be-created-or-destroyed

~~~

the principal thing about principles,
like the concept of time,
that in time, with time,
they come to reflect our
immutable essence's own best reflection,
come only, round or square
come only, too little too late
come, too much too soon

so the simpler, the better,
so the matter
of what really matters
needs capture in some
capsulated summary form,
a daily vitamin for the soul

so I thank you for
the gift
of your birthday,
the anibersaryo of a day of naissance,
this one solo, kakaiba,
among the many,
a present presented to the world

*so on this particular day,
we must thank you
for the wonder of wonder
that justifies existence,
for what truly matters

cannot be created or destroyed,

and your matter, mass,
your presence's  Grace upon this earth,
graces the hearts of thousands,
today and forevermore

this is what matters and
can never be recreated,
can never be destroyed...

~~~
Oct. 24, 2015
6:24 am
dispatched from NYC
~~~
Oct 6, 2013      October 20, 2013
The Banyan Tree (A Tribute to Sally)
I am a man, grandfather to four.
Adherent to the same religion,
Poetry.

Breathing through mine eyes,
Exhaling carbon words,
That with time and pressure become
Poems, verbal musical notes upon life.

Each motion, from tiny to grand,
A capsule of expression,
That if examined under microscope,
Familial DNA, interconnected tissue,
Discovered, tho logic says,  
Time and distance render impossible.

But this is a diamond
This is a writ to be slipped
Upon the finger, the heart, the essence,
Of the only Banyan tree I have hugged.

This poem but a fig,
In the cracks of kindness,
The crevices of caring,
It has slow germinated.

You dear, Sally,
My host,
A building upon I can lean,
When wearied spirits uproot
My surficial composure.

Your seeds carried from east to west,
By a fig wasp, a bird unknown,
An ocean voyager, of indisputable vision, strength.

This seeded messenger, word carrier,
Supplanted in me, and your pupils,
Jose-Bolima-Remillan
Xavier-Paolo-Joshh-Mandrez
Whose very names breathe poems,
in others too, like me and Atu,
Seeds to become new roots, but you,
Our Host official and forever
Planter of trees of loving kindness.

You already know with love and affection,
I call you Grandma Sally,
And when you ask, beseech,
I cannot refuse.

Together we will will banish the sad,
Acknowledge we, that life's ocean,
A mixture of many, even sad, a necessity.

But I promise that will turn it into
Something simple, something good.
For you have asked and I answer you
Right here right now - your wish,
My objective, deep rooted like you,
Like an old banyan tree,
Your roots spread far, spread wide.

So some eve, when to the beach, to the sky
You glance, smile, no matter what, troubles dispersed,
For the reflection of you, seeds, full fledged trees now,
Bending skywards, in search of your rays of expression,
Your maternal wisdom rooted, spread so wide, globally,
All over this Earth, is visible from your
Beloved Philippines.


---------------------------------------
In her own words..

I am a widow,
with five remarkable granddaughters....
all beautiful, intelligent girls.
It is such a waste not to write....
each morning that unfolds is filled
with things to write about....
the people, the birds,
the trees, the wind,
the seas,
everything we set our eyes on,
they are all
poetry in motion.
Life itself is poetry,
I always have pen and paper within reach.
My past experiences are a
never-ending source
of ideas and words for my poems....
I shall write until time permits me,
"til there's breath within me."
-------------------------------------------------
A banyan (also banian) is a fig that starts its life as an epiphyte (a plant growing on another plant) when its seeds germinate in the cracks and crevices on a host tree (or on structures like buildings and bridges). "Banyan" often refers specifically to the Indian banyan or Ficus benghalensis, the national tree of India,[1] though the term has been generalized to include all figs that share a characteristic life cycle...
Like other fig species (which includes the common edible fig Ficus carica), banyans have unique fruit structures and are dependent on fig wasps for reproduction. The seeds of banyans are dispersed by fruit-eating birds. The seeds germinate and send down roots towards the ground.

The leaves of the banyan tree are large, leathery, glossy green and elliptical in shape. Like most fig-trees, the leaf bud is covered by two large scales. As the leaf develops the scales fall. Young leaves have an attractive reddish tinge.[6]

Older banyan trees are characterized by their aerial prop roots that grow into thick woody trunks which, with age, can become indistinguishable from the main trunk. The original support tree can sometimes die, so that the banyan becomes a "columnar tree" with a hollow central core. Old trees can spread out laterally using these prop roots to cover a wide area.
 Oct 2015
brandon nagley
I feelest the thunderstorm rolling in
As tis death is catching up with me;
The waves of brimstone, coldness and the depth of the dark sea
Awaiteth me below mine unworldly feet.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Be who you want to attract,
Before you start "searching" for the right person,
Be the right person,
Find yourself,
Be comfortable with who you are,
Find happiness within you,
If someone is the only basis of your joy,
I'm afraid,your joy might be a mirage.
Sorry but its only in fairytales where frogs get to kiss princesses lol..

23-10-2015 huh,I thank God for this.had no idea this one would turn out to be a daily poem,I'm really touched like for real,didn't see this coming..but I must say,I've been waiting for this moment,guess dreams do come true :D ,..thanks for taking your time to read my poems and for the comments and likes ;they really encourage me,thank u very very very very very much people. :*
I am proud to be a child of Christ, whom died and rose for me.
For without his sacrifice, all of my poems would be worthless.
About only dying here without any hope or joy or love in them.
But he did save me and others as well, so I do have true Hope.
So yes I am proud humbly proud of having been rescue by him.
For I am not saying this with pride but he has humble me with his love.
So yes I am by far so grateful to be a child of the True Living God.
I have seen so many wonderfully made and Awesome family.
That are my family through Christ my Wonderful Savior.
Muscatine High school had some Extremely  wonderful people,
The colors were purple and Gold, I was bless by many there.
I am proud of being an Iowan as well as an American then and now.
There was and is so many wonderful people that I went to school with.
I been being taught so much by Christ as of lately and we all are place.
Near people or as now with the internet we can do so much more.
God place so many Awesome people in my life then and now too.
I been blessed and my school had some caring teachers there too.
We learn so much more in school as well as subjects from the people that surround us as well.
 Oct 2015
Jude kyrie
Meet me in the middle
By
Jude Kyrie

Meet me tonight my love
Please
Meet me in the middle
Between today and yesterday
Where breaths were sweeter
and the sky was bright with hope.
The music was old and melodic
The passions were strong and endless
The end was the last line of a movie

Now  I know  the needs of life
Its hunger for things of passion.
Looking down a tunnel
I seek the light.

So meet me my love
Come meet me
Between today and yesterday.
For today is too cold
And yesterday too warm
So meet me in the middle.
 Oct 2015
brandon nagley
i.

Tommorrow
O' tommorrow;
Bringeth me closer to mine love.

ii.

Tommorrow
O' tommorrow;
Telleth Jane I'll be looking from above.

iii.

Tonight
O tonight;
I prayeth to seeith mine empress in mine sleep.

iv.

Tonight
Wherein it's mine soul;
She doth keep.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
 Oct 2015
brandon nagley
Thou knowest nothing
Until thou art ready
To dieth for love;

Until then
Thou knoweth not
What love is.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
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