When The Heart Speaks - Hello Poetry

Sep 2015

Darcie Fitzpatrick

Truly there is no such worry
which shall turn your heart
away from this moment
where at present last
we can not find any other truth
yet to savor right now and
leave today and tomorrow
a distant thought to be
either forgotten or yet had
so we stay present of mind
and bring calm to those around
for never shall there be
a reason to make all the cards
come tumbling down

#freedom #present #noworries

Sep 2015

Christi Michaels MoonFlower

♡ Ode to Joe ♡

In Loving Memory
Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
8-31-2015
☆●♡●☆

Tonight my friend could not
breathe. Lungs ravaged from
long ago. Served our country as a
young man. Shoulders, hip n' leg
bones broke by the jungles below.

A Harley Man through
and through.
JFD's became his Corps.
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force.

One of the smartest men
I have ever known.
Could recite passages from
long ago. Abreast of topics
from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable.

A brother to many, a father to one.
Devoted to all he loved.
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!

Joe was my protector,
as I was a wild young thing.
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17.

Accompanied first date with
my husband 30 years ago.
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe.

The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years.
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him.
I weave Love between these tears.

☆●♡●♡●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

☆●♡●☆ Ode to Joe ☆●♡●☆
This poem was written upon Joe
entering Hospice in April 2015.
His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015

Poem for My Joe

#love #passing #dear #vietnam #agentorange #truefriendship

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

Eternal

In awe and pride, the
Eternal 'neath her “Star Wars,”
Shirt was our design.

This was the first poem I ever wrote about him - my son.

#love #haiku #son #eternal #starwars #fatherhood

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

She's Poetry

She purrs on my couch,
     But she’s not my cat.
     She’s simply –
         Waiting; and
          a’Happy barbed anxious,
          Come the , “tap-tap-tap,”
          Of this something-sort-of
          “Poetry.”

She scratches her ankle,
     For even the mosquitos admire her.
     She’s entirely –
          And perfect;
          Ivory a’constellation freckles,
          Come the, “tap-tap-tap,”
          Persistent, patient in the face of
          this something-sort-of “Poetry.”

She smiles seconds and seconds again later,
     For the music, the words and I.
     She’s the one –
          The One;
          That makes me whole,
          That mothers our son,
          And is the sun, the star atop my
          “tap-tap-tap;”

She’s Poetry.

Cliche title; maybe even a cliche poem. That said, I had to leave for work again - trains, planes, and automobiles, anything so long as it'd get me back to her.

#love #poetry #life #heart #muse #moments

Aug 2015

Sarah Mulqueen

Autumn Bliss

The dew drenched garden on a crisp Autumn morning.
Birds singing their song as you start your day.
Mist rolling over the Hunter Hills & down the galley, creating a lite fog throughout the town.
Your shoes become slicker with moisture, flicking drips into the air as you crunch through the leaves on your walk to school.
Teeth chattering as you make your your journey, steam rising from your mouth a constant reminder of the porige you had for breakfast.
Young & oblivious to the beautiful scenery that surrounds you.
The days when the worst part is facing possible detention.
If only I knew then just how easy I had it.

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

"...who's there?"

If each and every grain were a
Year,
Than every knock would be an
Episode,
So came the story that is my
Door.

And,

One – was the loudest pound,
“Authority,”
When the P.D.’d nearly warped
Hinge,
So came my first night in the
Clink.

Two, three, and four – Love, only
Love,
And one of two later;
SLAM!
Or one silent escape, fled and
Sundered.

Five – was the knock that never came.

Six – “tap, tap, tap,”
Mom,
It must have been my mom, or rather,
Obligation
And she’d swear to my sisters, “he’s
Ok.”

Seven, eight, and nine – Deliveries,
Disguise,
Pizza, Chinese, pizza and not so
Famished
Anymore; fuel for the guts, guzzle for the
Words.

Ten – came a' “gamechanger,”
Tear-smeared-mascara,
And two hands atop your
Abdomen;
I knew atop the water your freckles,
You’d never need knock again.

So if each and every grain were a
Year,
Than every knock would be an
Episode,
And this would be the story, that’d ever
Be our door.

Looking at the door and looking back through the years - I remember every face and every "legend."

#doors #tale #legend #epic #wood #portal #knocks

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

Her "red" book

Olive suits born red-dripped sagas,
Sing Mao’s song atop an oracle, “state.”
So parade smiles smeared sneer
And the lips kissed only one night prior.
Thus enticed the lady-soldier, the, “enemy,”
Liminal and it leads me to revive
The one time I’d hollered,
The one time I’d vanished
And the last time I’d ever love.
You can’t forgive me, I understand;

But please know you’re the only one
Who’d ever made me pause,
If only to swelter amidst the swans of a pond’s
Serenity, unbeknownst the encircling chaos,
So waited, atop the altar with only one question,
The one I’d never answer;
“Could you leave it all for me?”
I think, I really think and still fail to solve,
The equation wrought, if only plus lonely,
And’d offer the only answer I’d ever known –

“No.”

Years ago I fell for a girl in the Peoples Liberation Army (China's military) - that went really well, aha! Why do I always place myself in impossible situations? Oh, and "red book" is a reference to Mao's required reading in Chinese political classes.

#love #passion #soldier #travel #wanderlust #china #scribe #cowboy

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

"Xiaolian"

The *** stood stars on end, so to,
whispered, “play with me,” and in
haste we fled. We explored,
discovered, and devised something
bright, half something else sinister,
notarized – black roots pinned a
pink-scorched Mohawk, and
reciprocated, my wild “Mao-Mao,”
or so she’d named the hair on my
arms. The moon endured whilst we
knifed each other with each and
every gasp and sutured wounds left
prior lovers. I’d only come across
her name near the end, “Xiaolian,”
though the tattoo ‘top her leg, told
me, “Lola.” Come what mothers
christen us innocent would be a
poems in and of themselves,
addendum, the delirium aged and the
dance of neon atop our waterfall
soaked bodies - epic.

Lonely nights in Liwan; though loneliness + loneliness = hallowed.

#love #lotus #neon #waterfalls #xiaolian

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

Come lament, cured fireworks

One, of the two chairs, thrones under
Chinese twilight’s a’swirl and vacuous
come my evening’s stroll. Where once
two men would tinker, tea, and tease
atop a’board of chess, only one remains,
and that one would ‘ever cry. Tears that
only grey’d make, fears that only age
could stake, and a pecking order with
number nigh. I knew, come wail and so
entered the fireworks, flowers atop
promenades near, that the last game of
chess was just the other night. The last
cup of tea was just the other night, and
the one left behind thought about the
“night,” as we all do. When’s mine a
coming? When’s mine a’coming? Just
when is my night a’coming? So that I
may see you again, dear friend, let me
see you again.

For years I've observed the gentlemen playing chess nearly every night - nevermore. Rest easy and sleep well. I only hope that this poem adds to your immortality; written an unknown, but written, an admirer.

#life #death #tears #friendship #chess #when #age #tea #brotherhood

Aug 2015

Liam C Calhoun

Summer's Spent

I grow tired of summer
When the festival lion rears head;
The bleeding, the beating,
Been on “E,” and seeming, since June.

I grow tired of the summer
As it’s somewhere to the left,
Maybe up and maybe down.
But never nigh or near.

So, let pale moon sleep.

I grow tired of the summer,
Fall, winter and spring
It makes no difference.
Still I tire.

I grow tired of you, wherein I listen,
I ache, I’m adrift, and the dreams,
Shared atop our first flower,
Seeds beaten snow, have died.

So, let the two stars still and weep.

I grow tired of the summer,
A death and decay,
So crucified, that first modest wind’s
Dragonfly.

I grow tired of the summer,
Sustenance and another,
Wherein I’m devoured, abandoned,
Limbless, and left to dream.

I'm tired; so very tired.

#life #summer #exhausted #tired #moments #spent