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 Oct 2015
r
Hello Poets.
I received a copy yesterday of my good friend Timothy's new book "Reflections in Short Poetry". An excellent book with some of Timothy's finest poems.  Many of you are already familiar with his work. The book is very affordable and now available at lulu.com (by Timothy Salter). I highly recommend it. Congrats to Timothy for getting off of his **** and doing what many of us would like to do. Check his work out here at HP, too, if you aren't already familiar with his writing.

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Reflections in Short Poetry, by Timothy Salter, at lulu.com
 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
Mike Hauser
Received my copy of Timothy's first book of poetry today (Reflections in Short Poetry) and am already thoroughly enjoying it! There's nothing like having pages to turn...
It's pictured in my cover photo and can be purchased from lulu.com.
Thank you to Timothy for this wonderful book!
 Oct 2015
James M Vines
I call on you to join with me. I ask you to help your fellow man. In a rain storm give someone shelter. In the snow make them a warm place to sleep. In the heat of the day give them a shade where they can rest. When they are lonely give them a friend. Offer your extra change to buy someone a meal. Let them know that you care, show them how kindness feels. Remember your neighbor who has no one, stop by to say hello. Drive out the darkness and the loneliness, let true mercy show. Together we can make a change in humanity one kind act at a time. If you join me we can make things better, through kindness and caring and bring the world hope once again.
There is no body who can lie like a person who want to sleep with you, they can promise you heaven and earth mean while they don't have money to buy themselves underparts.

believe me men's are criminals they can steal your viginity and let you linger around the world with no values ,they can left you with tears and celebrate that they got your juice and they ended it,or they can left you like a Prado with its wheel at the back and watch how beautiful you can be after that.

your body is precious don't let anyone play your mind like a team that play same ball and what happens when it burst they through it away and get a new one, so your life  is worth than opening your legs.

why because you will be treated like a piece of toilet paper where everyone pass and use it and after that is useless, please girls, don't say I didn't warn you.

I would like to remind those who lost their viginity that the is a time to regain it,just stand your ground and speak out,my body is a temple of God and so if you want me,merry me,we are not animals to sleep around.

because the more you bow for men's is the more they trap you like a rat and ****** transmitted diseas  will be your risk,nature is nature but without respect is a disaster, keep your skirts tied or your trousers zip closed please.
 Oct 2015
Melissa S
First Degree** ~ For the love of good food and drink. I love watching people eat the food that I have prepared and really enjoy it. This time of year is also very special with all the fall aromas in the kitchen and all around. I love mixing fire whiskey with an apple flavored beer Mmm so good.

Second Degree ~ The love of nature and our furry little friends. The unconditional love they have for us is amazing. I love all the euphoric senses of nature.  Watching a beautiful sunset or leaves turning colors, listening to birds sing their hearts out, tasting a snowflake as it falls on our tongue, feeling sand and water on your toes, and smelling the crispness of fall air and the smell of seasoned firewood.

Third Degree ~ For the Love of Poetry. We poets see the world differently.  We choose how we want to see it and our own reality of it. We can see things in fantasy or the factual. The world is our playground and we are constantly at play and being creative.

Fourth Degree ~ The love of family and friends. Having two beautiful wonderful souls as my sisters.  They are my best friends. My son having grandparents and cousins galore who adore him. My friends and family have helped me in so many ways and it's always good to reciprocate when possible. I love the feeling I get when I can help someone.

Fifth Degree ~ The love of a spouse. Your other half. When both people are in tune with each other they can make beautiful music. This is a work in progress for me. We have our good and our bad days but the love is there no doubt.

Sixth Degree ~ The love that I have for my child. This one is the easiest and the best love for me.  I wrote this when my son was born-
The one thing I will never lose touch with is that sweet little face looking up at me. No single word not even Love could possibly be enough for what I feel, nor will it ever be.

Seventh Degree~ The Love of God. I would not be able to experience any of these other degrees without this one first. He has seen me at my lowest and yet has still loved me. The love of god is full of grace and mercy.
This is my list to my happiness. I want to encourage you all to make your own lists. I want to see them.
 Oct 2015
Helen
there is an initiative
on Facebbok
for the Black Dot
to be displayed on a palm
of those suffering with
Domestic Violence
who can't speak to you
because the cause of their angst
is standing behind them
fist raised, aim true
they're not allowed
to speak to you
but if you see that
Black dot,
and their eyes are bleeding
at you, please call the police
if you know them, if you don't
ask for their phone number
which is traceable too.

Supportive entirely
to that end
I propose an initiative
in support of a Blue Dot
a dot on the hand, of those
that suffer just as quietly
every single day
Those that live in denial
those they love and live for
might get better some day
I would like to place
a Blue Dot
on both my palms
and any who see it
on me
would just hold my hand
in theirs
letting me feel a connection
Knowing they understand

Black Dot/Blue
unable to speak truth
there is no doubt
Suffering is a real thing
the coloured dot
needs you to reach out
I wish the Blue Dot was a real thing (for me) I wish harder the Black Dot becomes famous internationally, and Domestic Violence is not just a SHE thing, we need to listen to the Males too...
I was in a car accident in September.
I suffered a severe concussion.
Though my body is rattled and
bruised, I believe will heal fine.
I am getting extensive therapy
and treatment.
My brain on the other hand is having
a bit more difficulty pulling it together.
Words don't line up, thoughts are
confused jumbles of messy patterns
that don't make sense sometimes.
This is very scary to me.
As I write everything on my tablet
or my android phone, looking at the
screen hurts my eyes and my brain.
I am very sad as of late. Have been
crying (more than usual). Head
hurts all the time. Getting lost a lot,
like when I drive etc etc etc. Writing
backwards. Everything written,
looks like it is at a slant (yuck).
And I have developed a Very significant,  
interesting stutter. Fascinating really...
All I want to do is sleep...
(which I have become very good at)
and to be held...
(just isn't in the mix right now).

I may try reposting some of my
old work at this time, until I'm better.
I will do my best to check in on the Dailies. 
I need to stay away from reading and
commenting. : ((  : ((  : ((   At least for now.
I am Sure, I Will Get Better!!!
☆●♡♢♡●☆

I need you all to know how much
I've come to Love and Appreciate my HP Family.
One of the best gifts I have given
Myself. Also, I am trying to join
Kalypso and Gang with Our collection
of Poems on Sound Cloud.
If I can ever figure it out
♡ Peace and Love ♡
▪○●☆♡♢♡☆●○▪
Christi~ MoonFlower~ Fluer de Luna
 Oct 2015
CA Guilfoyle
When I travel far from crowds
find myself grey, in the raining clouds
I run far into the cedar woods
of green and mossy loam
with birds, I fly from storms
deep in a world
sweet with maidenhair ferns
soft the moss, to touch
as newborn rabbit's fur
many the hour
under sparkling trees
of yellow maples glistening
the chirping words, of smallest birds
that I can never see
echo sweet, I dream and sleep
sink into perfect peace
beneath the rainforest canopy
 Sep 2015
Nat Lipstadt
there is a poem lurking
in me tonight,
accompanying me from nighttime
into the muddled currents of the wee hours,
awaiting for an ending
of this, this vigil,
or perhaps,
ejection from the birth canal

where and whence, it irritangly demands, is
my commencement,
the origination of its peculiar species,
to eternalize it,
tattoo a unique number
upon its wrist
in a ledger of words

they sent me a message that the
DedPoet is in deed
dead, gone, cremated

but that is not the poem
stalking me
right now

for now
vanilla numbing of the heart,
sadness that this fellow runner
of my human-writing race
is no more upon the track

but that is not the poem
talking to me
right now

every flutter of eyelash
is a line,
a forgotten fragmented verse,
a lost and gone forever Clementine,
even before the thought completed

numerous sun ray titles flash
but few are caught,
though all glimpsed in dazzled shining glory

the hook, line and sinker,
themselves, yeoman poets all,
have nothing to show

oh woe is me,
oh woe is me

there is a poem lurking
in my chest
yearning to be free
by being created

I know it not yet
in any form recognizable,
so well as it knows me
from our shared womb,
now torn

5:08 am
Sept. 30, 2015
Come Home Great Wind
your absence saddens
the hearts of many people

we no longer
share the blessed
abundance with you
at the dinner table
the bread of our lives
has grown stale

the rooms of our house are
bereft of your laughter

the music of your
voice fails to adorn
our ears

your songs of
happiness have
evaporated from
the air

your beautiful smile
no longer lights the
dim hours of the day

your certain friendship
is a sharp loss for all who
who trust in your love

there is a great gap
in the hearts
of those that love you
all are crestfallen
that you are not
among us

Feeds Us with Maize
fills her serving bowls
with tears of anguish

Blue Fox swims
across oceans in the
search for you

Little Feather
soars with heartache
in his flight to find you

Lighter than Air
leaps atop
the worlds
greatest peaks
hoping to discover
the crag you may
have fallen into

Clouds cover
the keen vision
of Moon Eyes
he detects no
sight of you

Startled Bear
traverses endless
roads seeking you
all he finds is the
emptiness of
his heart

Sweetpea waits
by the door, hoping
you’ll soon step
across the portal
of a loving sanctuary

Dearest Great Wind
we know your benevolent
spirit is large, your selfless heart
open and eager to care for the
Good Earth and
all God’s Children

when you have
finished filling
the sails of
bold schooners
traversing great lakes

when you have swept
the streets of leaves
marking the march
of a new season

when your exertions
have melted the
snow of winters
hardships

when you have completed
scattering seeds across
the Great Plains so we may
sow next seasons bounty

when you have filled
the lungs of a newborn
with a first blessed breath
or anointed the infirmity
of the aged with a tender touch

when your compassion has
kissed the fevered forehead
of a homeless mother and
nurtured her children
with a gentle breeze

when you have filled the trumpets
hailing righteous justice and
alighted the soothing flutes
with a healing balm

come home Great Wind

we know you are at
home in everyplace
you travel

every village and tribe
welcomes you as a
beloved sister

we ask you to return
to your ancestral home
where you grew
into the loving presence
you are today….

fill our banners
with the pop of joy again

ring the wind chimes
with the echo of your presence

fill our hearts with
the melodious love
of your songs

your bed is prepared
a wholesome meal awaits
Sweetpea remains
vigilant in her watch
the family circle
waits to embrace
you again

Great Spirit
if it be your will
align her compass
to direct her home

steer the weather vanes
to the cardinal points
to show her the way

Come Home Great Wind….

Selah

Music Selection:
Jimi Hendrixs
Wind Cries Mary



Easter 2015
Oakland


dedicated to the spirit of Meg
and a prayer to lead her home…

Great Wind is Meg’s Indian name
Feeds Us with Maize, Heidi
Blue Fox, Glen
Little Feather, Patrick
Lighter Than Air, Nish
Moon Eyes, Ned
Startled Bear, jbm
#FINDMEG
My daughter Meaghan Elizabeth McCallum has been missing since March 10, 2015..... This is a prayer to lead her home....

— The End —