RHYME IS THE RHTHM OF NATURE

Jan 2011

jeremy wyatt

Yeah buddy still going strong
you and me don't get along
seen your work you were the best
now I am here so join the rest
seven days left you heed me well
there ain't no heaven but you'll go through hell

From roadkill, I posted this for a facebook buddy?
Said it is for the Wordplay.....

Jan 2011

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

ONE OF THE BEST POETS ON THE SITE

I am one of the best poets on the site
On any subject I can write.
I may lack Neva Flores poetic grace
Or Rue’s literary or linguistic ace

I may lack Denis Barter’s classical touch
I am as useful as telephone hutch
My poetry is as simple as a common man’s speech
It is within every reader’s easy reach

In the literary circle I have considerable space
In my friends’ heart some cordial place
I don’t know much about meter
But I can write a poem on electrical heater

Some poets think My poetry sounds Victorian
I am undoubtedly not a sectarian
Some critics may feel my poetry is out dated
I think it might have been over rated

I am an instinctive and innovative poet
I am at the threshold of becoming great
If you think I am right bless me
If you think I am boasting curse me

This poem is just for fun.My opinion about fellow poets is true.It is not fun

Jan 2011

Timothy Mooney

Feets

When I was wee my feets was small.
They found no grip, I'd trip and fall.
I'd stumble bumble left and right
From morning sun to bed-time night.
But as I grew my feets did too.
They grew out of both sock and shoe!
And when I slept they grew some more.
They grew right out my bedroom door!
They grew right out onto the lawn
And when I woke my feets was gone!
I sat there scared within my bed
Just wondering where my feets had fled.
Did my feets go out on a trip
Along the Mighty Mississip?
Were they stomping Kansas corn,
Or hanging ten in Californ?
Hiking in Saskatchewan
Or Yucatan or cold Yukon?
All day long and into night
I worried of my Feets's plight.
Worried that they'd never phone
To tell me they was coming home,
Worried that I'd be bereft
Of both my feets, the right and left!
And so I pictured my two feets
Just wandering dark Parisian streets,
Or alleys in the south of Spain,
Or freezing in the Russian rain,
Or separated in Des Moins
Without the calf, the knee, the *****!
But wait! Hold on! What's this I see?
I'm such a goof, oh silly me!
I did not lose my big old feets!
They were just sleeping 'neath my sheets!

Jan 2011

Timothy Mooney

Preacher

O, I believe there might be something out there we can't see.
Some Cosmic Orchestrator or Supreme Divinity...

But why would it be calling you, just you and you alone?
If It's just all-so-powerful, it knows to use the phone.

I really see no reason, there's no reason I can see
Why God would bother calling you, and never ring up me.

But then again I'm just a simple man who won't define
The wherefore and the whatnot or the mind of The Divine.

Yet still I have a doubt or two that you've heard Holy Word...
Your actions speak much louder, Sir, than anything I've heard
From your lofty pulpit where you rant and proselytize
And tell us God just told YOU all the things we should despise.

But then again I'm just a simple man who won't define
The wherefore or the whatnot or the mind of The Divine.

Jan 2011

jeremy wyatt

Vincents Plea...

A cat came into my dreams last night
a great big ginger beauty
but instead of curling up
he lashed his tail all snooty
"I saw you thursday night"
he said, with a tear-stained muzzle
he wasn't pleased at all with me
but why? Wow what an awkward puzzle
"Haggis in your arms, that's what!
How dare you do this to me?
there's only space for one of us
upon your boney knee.
That lad is such a fighter
he chases me all day
he bites my **** till it is plucked
I try to run away!
Ok I sometimes taunt him
push my **** into his face
but understand you silly man
your lap is Vincents place!
Room for us both? That is not true!
Remember my huge belly.
Balancing me upon those legs
Is like juggling a jelly!
I know I snuggle up with him
when it's cold and mum's not there
but already Haggis is snuggling dad
I almost have to swear.
So keep away my skinny pal
from my naughty feline rival
'cos the battle to keep your lap for me
is like the struggle for survival!"
Hmmm..he has a point I guess
he was a wee bit worried
that Haggis causes him so much stress
I think he'd have him curried!
I see them snuggle on the bed
and butter wouldn't melt
I know if Haggis comes to me
Vin will give me a belt!

Jan 2011

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

A POET'S POEM

Can a poet write a poem
For the sake writing a poem?
I think he will certainly can
But it becomes mere fun

A poet needs to be emotionally touched
His creativity is incredibly recharged
A beautiful poem is instantly released
And the reader is immeasurably pleased

Unless something touches his heart
There can be no creation of everlasting art
Spontaneous overflow of emotions is poet’s natural part
It makes his poems immensely smart

A poet can't always write at his best
He needs to pass the readers' test
If jaded, he needs considerable rest
His poem becomes the seeting sun in the west

Jan 2011

Timothy Mooney

Tears Not Wasted on a Creekside Stele

Who was it carved these lines
In ancient hand
Faded now
By sand and wind
And patient Time?

Whose voice on chiseled stone
calls on to us
Covered now
With mossy virtues
Lost, unknown?

Should I now in my crewel
of saddened heart
And remorse
Add a stitch
Of love eschewed?

Should I wield stick and stone
And worry down
into this rock
My ****** tale
Of love unknown?

And ages hence, some thousand years
when this creekbed
sits up high
Will some fellow
read my tears?

No. I will let my fingers roam
these runic forms
Singing loud
The loss we shared
Beside this stone.

Jan 2011

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

RURAL FAIRIES' PLANTATION

Rural fairies with their soft hands plant the corn
To make the black earth green
And turn it into a delightful scene
The green corn turns yellow in the morn

The corn sprouts from the earth
Like Jesus gets eternal re-birth
The farm becomes greenery
I wonder at nature’s nice scenery

The earth becomes a green carpet
And becomes astonishingly beautiful to look at
Plantation of corn is nature’s great citation
It becomes a golden carpet in rotation

I wonder at the beauty of plantation
It is more beautiful than Keats’ quotation
More enjoyable than any musical sensation
I think it’s God’s mysterious revelation

Jan 2011

Judy Ponceby

Being Cheeky

Skipping through the forest,
Laughing with delight,
Glimpsing my sweetheart,
Off to the right.

Sneaking up closely,
Taking a peek.
Watching him moving,
I do not speak.

Silently climbing,
Up and out on a limb.
Taking some acorns,
And grinning down on him.

Watching him move,
unaware of my perch.
Thinking how funny,
He's going to lurch.

Taking careful aim,
Then glancing about,
I whack him on the head,
And he gives a shout.

Laughing, and swinging,
Out on a limb.
Hanging upside down,
And grinning at him.

First he was scowling,
Looking quite mad.
Now he is smiling,
And, boy, am I glad.

Still hanging there,
My knees over the limb,
He approaches me slowly,
And I get a kiss from him.

His hands on my face,
His heart in his eyes.
Kissing so sweetly,
With fun undisguised.

Slipping from my perch,
I settle in his arms.
Feeling so safe,
Loving his charms.

Not a thing could be better,
than being this close.
with his heart to my heart
his nose to my nose

Jan 2011

Judy Ponceby

Summer Fun

Hip hop, gonna stop
on the bright blue square.
Run, jump, fall like a lump.
on the green ground bare.

Laugh and dash, and water splash
in the sunshine sparkle.
Smile and giggle, toes they wiggle
in the black mud darkle.

Playing silly, warm and chilly
dusk is setting in.
Wandering home, all alone,
in the tub again.

Splish, splash, clean in a flash
jammies on real quick.
Bedtime story, oh the glory,
on a dreamland kick.

Jan 2011

Judy Ponceby

Land **!

Man the lanyard! Over the sea!
To lands unknown to you and me!

The wind blows south, my merry men.
The ale flows free, to heaven then.

To Sea, to find my heart aflame!
To Sea, to find the dragon's claim!

Salty air, on dark stormy winds
Fair, rock our ship, to pieces then.

Tossing freely, dancing wildly,
Spinning to the rhythmic pounding.

Passing time on deck and mast,
From the crow's nest, we hear at last.

Land **! Land **! Captain!
The very land that has been sought.

Rivers of silver, mountains of gold.
Paradise for Pirates, so I'm told.

Jan 2011

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

OH! MY DEAR CHILD

Oh! My dear child
Your ways are so wild
You **** my milk
And kick my breast

Oh! My dear plant
I give birth to you
But you make cracks in my heart
I think it is nature’s part

Oh! My dear eagle
You kick me with all your force
And soar high into the sky
You need to kick me to fly high

Oh! my dear human beings
He tried to serve you
But you tried to severe Him
Your ways are always cruel
But His ways are eternally Royal
You should eventually wait for His trial

Jan 2011

Louis Brown

A Dark Windy Serenade

The wind plays a music that swells my despair

Paints darker the setting of my lonely lair

Where I would recover from dreams kicked aside

My eerie tormentor comes back like the tide

Whistling and keening from high pitch to soft

Stirring the pigeons awake in the loft

Screeching a branch on my window of stars

Playing the drainpipe in monotone bars

Resting and racing then altering course

“I saw your loved one” says its haunting voice

Routing the season of flowers and sun

Clearing the path for a desolate one

Copyright Louis Brown