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 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
---

he
promised
me
the
stars
but
all
he
gave
me
was
a
pocket
fu­ll
of

*G
L
I
T
T
E
R
**``···*** <^>``··**
***``·♡^>>··**``···***^<>··``**
**``···^^~~***--::"",,,****

---
 Jun 2015
Sally A Bayan
(an acrostic of 10W X 5 lines)

D-addy, like an idol, rarely closes his eyes...he is
A-lways patient...eagerly hears us...though tired from work, he
D-elights in our silly, lively, sometimes significant, or even stalemated
D-iscussions...he even joins in, and contributes to our childish
Y-abber........he's our idol...our friend...he is our DADDY!



Sally
Copyright June 20, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***...my five granddaughters, expressing their feelings through me...***
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
Acrostic

~~~=<♡>=~~~

Fourtitude
Abounding
    **T
remendous
Heroic        
        Enriching your
   Rapscallions

(us...)

thanks dad!
£♡¥€
you loads!
SUCCESS!
HE LOVED IT!

He has a great sense of humor TOO!

---
example prose poem:

The world looks lovely in the setting darkness of time and as I gaze into the mysterious depths of my soul, I ask, Oh Lord let me linger a little time more. Whatever may be, will be, whatever I search for will be, with God's help, even with broken hearts, lots of soul searching, and heavenly intervention what will be, will be. There will be much distance to grow, sometimes we have to be prune to bloom, to grow in life. Yes I am ready to be better, a better person in the eyes of the Lord, I know I have my faults and I know I am a work in progress, for the Light shines brightly and holds our hearts in His hands... In the meantime the hurricanes of our lifes will fly on by, swirl us around and land us in a marvelous wonderful place that holds our very happiness. You see there is no easy walk to freedom, no matter which way we turn, we must work for it and many of us will have to pass through the valley shadow of death, and might not come out alive. But we still hope and pray and work to strive to be a better person. In fact, when God's light shines let it shine on us... and then we will reach the mountain tops of our desires....
The prose poem is a type of poetry characterized by its lack of line breaks. Although the prose poem resembles a short piece of prose, its allegiance to poetry can be seen in the use of rhythms, figures of speech, rhyme, internal rhyme, assonance (repetition of similar vowel sounds), consonance (repetition of similar consonant sounds), and images. Early poetry (such as the Iliad and the Odyssey, both written by Homer approximately 2,800 years ago) lacked conventional line breaks for the simple fact that these works were not written down for hundreds of years, instead being passed along (and presumably embellished) in the oral tradition. However, once poetry began to be written down, poets began to consider line breaks as another important element to the art. With the exception of slight pauses and inherent rhyme schemes, it is very hard for a listener of poetry to tell where a line actually breaks.

The length of prose poems vary, but usually range from half of a page to three or four pages (those much longer are often considered experimental prose or poetic prose). Aloysius Bertrand, who first published Gaspard de la nuit in 1842, is considered by many scholars as the father of the prose poem as a deliberate form. Despite the recognition given to Bertrand, as well as Maurice de Guerin, who wrote around 1835, the first deliberate prose poems appeared in France during the 18th Century as writers turned to prose in reaction to the strict rules of versification by the Academy.

Although dozens of French writers experimented with the prose poem in the 1700s, it was not until Baudelaire's work appeared in 1855 that the prose poem gained wide recognition. However, it was Rimbaud's book of prose poetry Illuminations, published in 1886, that would stand as his greatest work, and among the best examples of the prose poem. Additional practitioners of the prose poem (or a close relative) include Edgar Allen Poe, Max Jacob, James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, Amy Lowell, Gertrude Stein, and T.S. Eliot. Among contemporary practitioners of the prose poem are: Russell Edson, Robert Bly, Charles Simic, and Rosmarie Waldrop.
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
---

there is a crack
a crack in the clay
a crack   in the vessel for
water today . it is quite small
it's hard for to see . it's always
in you . it's always in me . the
master carries this vessel
for to bathe and to wash
and another sound
vessel which

is balanced across
his strong broad
shoulders . one on each
side . with a stick for to balance
both for the ride . the man dipped
his pots . w ith water to seek . but the
*** with t he crack in it began to leak
as the m  an passed . on his way to
his **  me . the leak in the ***
began to flow
W                                  
A                       ­           
T                                  
E                ­                  
R                                  

S        ­                          
P                                  
I                                  
L                                  
L                           ­       
E                                  
D                    ­              
down upon the verge of the path
where there were trees, flowers
and grass . the master looked back
where he had been . one side was
withered . but the other was green
a riot of colors from the blooms and
the trees . told that they had had
water . the master was pleased
so he placed the cracked vessel
in its own special place . and
walked away happy . With a

smile on his face!


soulsurvivor
(C) 6/21/2015
This poem illustrates how
even cracked vessels have an
important place in the world

I hope that this is not too
difficult to read :-*

---
 Jun 2015
Sia Jane
And in that moment I believed in us
    we were in love,
        Ah God,

And how I dreamed of you & those long days in
love,
         love,
                  lovers from the start
                roaming so free, those stars,
                we were lunar lovers
                that night of the eclipse
                a full moon in the sky
                little did we know
                our ghosts of the past
                would haunt me haunt me

That's when I learnt the art of absence, Ah
    God is this love,
    God is this love,
       Ah Thee

And the death defying pull that missing
you,
         you,
                  could only ever know of
                  or fear to know of
                  but O I sensed a presence
                  and goosebumps formed on my skin
                  and an echo formed in my chest
                  and I felt connected to nothing
                  Ah me, I knew God of You
                  had dreams in store for me

So next time you walk beside me
My eyes wide open
Let it be known
    then
Embrace me tight
    light the path to Eden
    that day

In Your arms Lord God
     (forever)

  © Sia Jane
See "Hymn" by Jack Kerouac for reference <3
 Jun 2015
Chris


Rain still falls
upon my shoulders,
green leaves slow dance
with crystal droplets
to the enchanting melody of
saturated skies singing,
spider webs wear liquid diamonds,
shimmering chandeliers swaying
like silent wind chimes on the breeze
and puddles act as mirrors
where I see my smile
as I head down a muddy path,
leaving lonely footprints behind,
walking towards the sunny day
*that is you
 Jun 2015
Mike Hauser
My daddy turned life into living
By raising ten ornery kids
A righteous man, daddy was given
I only hope to live life like he did

He was brought up on old mountain wisdom
That's the best kind of wisdom he said
Don't just hear with your ears but also your eyes
But don't let it all go to your head

Don't trust no one named Uncle Sam
Cussing don't make you a man
If you see your brother in the gutter before you check with another
Be there to lend him a hand

Don't pick a fight if you ain't planing on winning
Don't ever miss church on Sundays
If your caught in a storm and can't make it home
Get down on your knees boy and pray

Make sure you take the advice of your mother
And that you show your sweet sister respect
If you've had your fill of a good home cooked meal
Give a hungry man what is left

My daddy brought us up on mountain wisdom
You can always fall back on when there ain't nothing left
A word to the wise, not just your ears but your eyes
That's what my daddy always said
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