Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2015
betterdays
awakened by the purr
of the little blue cat,
seeking warmth,
on this crisp spring morning

we, the little blue cat and I
take our breakfast outside
walking across the dew damp grass
to sit at the old wooden table

he, steps high, waggling his feet
me, i step deeply into the grass
enjoying the verdant, green smell
that rises,
enjoying the brief  commune with
nature
enjoying the return to childhood

we sit, companionably, eating
he leftover roast chicken,
me, purlioned cocoa puffs,
my son's saturday treat,
that he will surely never miss

as we sit, the sounds of the world waking
drift past us.
windows opening, the snort and cough
of an early rising smoker, cars starting
the birds chat and chirk, and the plop
of the fish as the break the surface of the pond.
the garbage trucks stop and start trek up the street.

and now in the house, the radio, and kettle begin
a shower turned on, a bass voice sings, not well
but with joy.

now the day has truly begun...
one last mouthful of half remembered childhood
and then back to the daily grind
as the sun makes it's way past the low lying clouds

the blucat, chooses to stay, out watching the birds.
 Oct 2015
CA Guilfoyle
Nightfall, dark with planets
cold desolate sky home
stars amid nebulous winds swirling
cool icing, caked in frozen states
cynosure of volatile fates
the fiery red that melts blue
tonight a slow float of milk clouds
a diaphanous transient veil
drifts its way across
the moon so pale.
Sea waves sway a boat.

Grey seagull lands on its edge --

Splashed by blue dolphins!
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
~~~~~~~~~~
 Oct 2015
Dark Smile
The other day my sister lamented that she did not look like one of those white, blonde, blue-eyed beauties on television.
This struck me for a number of reasons mainly for the fact that we are Indian girls who are neither white, blonde nor blue-eyed and it is physically impossible for us to be like that because it's coded into our genes.
Why then did my sister want to be so much like these beauties that she could never look like.
Why then did my sister want to change herself so much, change they very coding in her genes, change the very fabric of her body?
I was not able to respond to her at the time but this is my response to her.
Society's standards of beauty were created by entrepreneurs looking to make a quick buck.
They market such celebrities as beautiful and, through subliminal messages tell you that if you do not look like them, you are ugly and not worthy.
And it is so easy for them to do this because of the Westernisation of cultures all over the world.
Go to any supermarket and the first things yo will see under the beauty section are bleaching and whitening creams.
It is true that these white, blonde, blue-eyed beauties are stunning, gorgeous.
But why should their beauty mean that you aren't beautiful?
You are the culmination of years of evolution,
the stars have been planning your arrival.
Look at yourself in the mirror,
Stare into the dark brown irises of your eyes and understand that they are like pools of chocolate, understand that they are the colour of the bark of the tress understand that they are beautiful.
Caress your brown hair, run your fingers through it, you are beautiful.
Look at your caramel-coloured skin, don't you just love the colour? It's deep and sweet and beautiful.
Your body, the vessel of your soul in beautiful and every step you take is magical and your voice sounds like a bow playing perfectly on a violin and your laugh ringing out sounds like wind chimes in a light breeze.
Don't you understand?
You are a ******* masterpiece.
Don't treat yourself any less.
When the sun slants
on wings smelling fish
fly the cormorants
to where the home is.

Their memory is a lake
with bountiful food
bill's all the take
that makes living good.

In between the catch
when enough seems done
find a dry patch
hold the wings to sun.

If wishes were heard
it's all I would want
to be turned into a bird
and what else but cormorant!
 Sep 2015
Joe Cottonwood
badge
     of birth

face
     in a hole

begging
     kisses

basket of lint
     pool of perspiration

dried flower
     in soft hair

bath time
     bubbles gather

touch of your mother
     for life
 Sep 2015
Jayanta
Someone observe darkness on the edge of the territory
Where our turret is located;

Everyone looking into it for decoding,
Decoding the darkness of our bastion and territory;
Talk shows are going on...
Everyone is quarrelling with their own view point...  
One is trying to profess.... ‘darkness emerging for a new embryonic......’
Another one counter act.... ‘darkness means light don’t penetrate ...
... how can you expect some new without stroke of light .........?’
In between someone tweet ... ‘as they behave differently we call them dark....’
Another tweet comes in .......... ‘it is not baryonic.........
.......try to assess the mass..... You will get the answer....’  
Debate goes on
Anchor asked for a break

Add comes in.....
..... illuminating the results of health drink to spout brilliance...
two and four wheelers run on.... as if going to search darkness in cosmos....

Put off the TV.......
Stand in the balcony......
Street light elucidate the road....
As if, try to cover up the darkness with gloss....
One pedestrian coming back from a wine bar.......
......and outcry.....
..... all of you are sinner......
Don’t cover up this with light and gloss
Let it be dark as dark matter
Where
Stolen light and gloss unable to penetrate.....
..... let it be remain in the history as murky.....

Night bird crossed the light post ....
....and strike a chord to everyone that deepness of night is growing...
Back to bed room  
Laying in bed and put off the eyes expecting a new morning.....
I'm a firm believer in the sixth sense of animals and their ability to portend the future 'sometimes' . Many cases exist , farm animals included , of strange occurrences just before an Earthquake , Tornado or Hailstorm !
Animals have the ability to pick up emotional signals from human beings as well ! We had a quarter horse that could pick up fear , a dog that would hide under the bed an hour before a hailstorm , and a pet pig that would squeal and hide from someone it didn't recognize ! Then again I had a Rooster once , that picked up on my depressed state of mind an flogged me good with its razor sharp spurs one afternoon ! I questioned his ability to see the future later on that evening as I rocked on the front porch and picked out his barbecued remains with a wood tooth pick and a cup of hot tea* !
Copyright September 20 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Sep 2015
Elisa Maria Argiro
The moon, just now
is a cradle full of milk
pouring sweet glowing soma
into our drowsy hearts
rocking us so deeply into sleep
and the gentlest of visionary dreams
©Elisa Maria Argiro
 Sep 2015
James M Vines
When the rain falls, some people might become depressed. Some might want to sleep and wake when it has passed. That is fine for some, but not for me. For on a rainy day, I see what others do not see. On a rainy day, I watch the earth become clean. I see the debris of life washed away. I see leaves falling off of trees to make way for new spring buds. I see cooling of the earth from a hot summers day. I see puddles where children splash and play. I see rebirth and hope being watered by the tears of the sky. So the next time you are feeling Blue and your skies are turning Grey. Just remember that its not so bad on a rainy day.
Next page