My favourites - Hello Poetry

Nov 2016

phil roberts

The wind shuffles the long grass
And the broad green reeds
Shifting and rattling
By the rippling black water
Chuckling water fowl splash
Swans and cygnets hurry past
And the weather is on the turn
It's time to be heading home

The last of the daylight creatures
And the very first of those of the night
Are sharing this half-way hour
The sky restlessly moves and changes
And bruised clouds rush over head
Like the rubbed eye-lids of a child
A weary teary child
Going home and ready for bed

The slack and glossy water
Laps at the stone beneath bridges
Echoing with the ghosts of barges
And spits of rain flick the air
Studs of cold hitting the face
Turning a collar to the cheek
And urging aching feet
Home-fire yearning me home

By Phil Roberts

Nov 2016

spysgrandson

her white words

white caps, near her shore
nothing more--those and voices
in the breaking waves

she alone hears,
as code deciphered,
their scribe, she is

faithful to the crashing
rhythm, in which she reads
the dance of the dead

countless fishes' swishes,
harpooned whales’ wailing, myriad men
mourning, as vessels foundered

white caps, waves, sand
symphony she alone hears, sees, smells
and understands as dirge

For Vicki B, though I don't remember why...

Nov 2016

wordvango

in ***

wishing I had just gone fishing
instead of drinking
sank a worm in the pond
I didn't so I am thinking
of you

finishing another round
now getting logical again
a song comes into my head
I can't find the name of it
you drown

me on the end of a hook
in the pond and mesquite
swirling river of Tequila
like a cricket
in a bream's mouth

hungry on the bottom
of the creek

Nov 2016

r

Dreams of wild geese

November comes
with the wild geese
in their V like memories
of an arrow flying
too close to the sun
and their feathers shining
as their wings beat as one
drum in the distance
signaling that winter
is coming, and the cold
days will keep us inside
warmed by the fires we crave
deep in our caves painting
and dreaming away.

Nov 2016

nivek

fleeting fame in a fleeting time

to be notoriously kind
now that's a reputation
to be remembered for.

Nov 2016

phil roberts

IS IT ME?

Edges of shadows
In the corners of eyes
Too fast to see
It might be me

Is it true
What you see?
Is it real?
Is it really me?

You do not hear my voice
Or know the colour of my eyes
You would not know me in the street
Or recognise my accent
Should we meet

And yet
You have seen my soul
In the words I write
And even the spaces between them

Those who care to look
Can know my story
My frailties
My vulnerabilities
My reality

This may be my curse
And my gift to you
Whatever it may be
You know that it is true

By Phil Roberts

Rewrite of "Curse and Gift"

Oct 2016

Karina Norris-Veirs

Red Dirt

Back road red dirt
Sipping Zima with the jolly ranchers
Hanging with the guys
The girls just too much drama

Having to be carried in
Only 17
Momma shaking her head
Waste basket and a hair tie for me

Growing up small town
Cruising the drag
Drinking at the tin barn
Watching fights turn into love
Memories were made
The ones that'll never fade

Had my first boyfriend
From the rival town
We were the talk of everyone
Twenty years later
Giving it another go round

Had my first kiss
Parked by the y
Being carried in again
Momma just shaking her head

Cruising the red dirt
Mesa's all around
No guardrails to protect
When my heart was broken and down

These are the memories
Ones that'll never fade
Hitting that red dirt
Even to this day

Oct 2016

Doug Potter

Bone broth

She boils animal bones
for one day, up three
times a night to check
the rolling calcium

and within the mineral water
she believes are the dreams
of cultures like Jews
rising from

mass graves, missing faces
from family portraits, no
violence against young
or old;

she drinks.