Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Mar 25 Marshal Gebbie
v V v
I've always believed that
something exists beyond the veil.

But the modern age has done its best
to keep us from seeing it.

The world spins and tells us what we want
but the world lies.

The world can never provide
enough
to satiate the soul.

A six-figure income
lies

    Your new toothpaste
lies

“I cant wait until Christmas”
lies

That SSRI drug trial
lies

“If only she would love me”
lies

An early retirement
lies

A trending poem
lies

“I can quit whenever I want”
lies

Additional home square footage
lies

That new car smell
lies

Hair plugs
lie

“I’m fine to drive home”
lies

*******
lies

Any kind of cosmetic implant
lies

Anything you wish you could get your ***** little hands on
lies

There is no end to the lies
and lists of
  things that will not satisfy

for long

Only the now
is true and
fulfillment will not come

later

It is right now
  in this moment

You are alive and
you don’t need to be

You are your own gift

Embrace the now

Breathe

and

Observe
  Mar 25 Marshal Gebbie
v V v
The breeze from the east brings
the sounds and smells of the dairy
and the beginning of Fall.
On our morning walk, Sandy stops
to roll in the dewy grass.

A desert valley is no match for
a Golden Retriever, maybe
color-wise, but not ****-wise.
She bumps into me as we walk
and her coat of stickers
scratches against my leg.

She’s not what I ever intended
to love.


My father used to walk alongside
me the same way. Lecturing me as
he walked, he’d lean in, like Sandy,
forcing me to either lean back,
or drift off the sidewalk.

I’d drift as far as possible but
could never escape his thorny barbs,
many of which stuck deep,
festering in my soul for decades.

He’s not what I ever intended
to forgive.


He’s been gone a few years now
and with the passing of time
I have slowly begun to forgive,
and in the forgiving
I have found healing

nevertheless scars remain,
and when Sandy brushes
against them,

I remember.
what color is hate?

think hard, answer, not easily up-conjured,
obvious choices, careful be, exclude not, some voices,
no rush, think upon it careful, after all, hate hates variations,
it, as old original as the Garden of Eden

you desire answer, something quick, *****,
look to very nature of hate, so easy spewed,
after centuries of construction, yet, there is
nothing quick about hating, tho learnt early on

some variants of millennium length, eons short,
oh weep, at this great irony of ironies, hate is so
innate engrained, is it in the red blood, cells of the
white colored brain apparatus we all share?

unnatural impossibly genetic. don’t believe it.

hate is colorless like air, like clear water.
how else could it be so easy given, taken.
innocent innocuous is the color of hate,
easy transmitted, and never to be a vaccine

until it can be seen how we implant it within ourselves.


11:40pm
Sat Jul 11
The Bex Birthday Anthology

a very long quick perusal yields this trove,
but I know there are more
both disguised and plain hidden,
she invoked from within & without
getting partial credit

but search engine says there are too many millions of answers
to poems about Rebecca so cut to the chase and do your own

so don’t nobody get any ideas about getting their own
gift wrapped anthology cause I am overwhelmed by how,
how you all inspire me and give names to my muses,
and so I’ll just wish the northern girl that
all her happy poems
come true

who could want for anything more?
Over recent years I've watched the ebb and flow of talent coming and going through our little pond of creativity. There is a steady group of consistent writers who contribute regularly to the pool. They interact with each other amiably, encourage, enthuse and occasionally, mildly criticize the work contributed. Many demonstrate their dissaproval with a stoney silence, some leap up and down, others pontificate.
Generally we all splash around and find satisfaction in our own damp sphere of appeal.

We who dwell in the creative waters of this pond are comfortable with our lot. We are satisfied that we are in common ground with like minded people. Few rock the boat.

Diversity is the theme where the offerings range from personal tragedy to outpourings of passion and love. Political posturing has been known to rile whilst others have been brought to tears of intense sorrow. Gales of laughter occur and the odd snicker of amused connivance sneaks out from many, quite involuntarily.

We have no William Shakespeares, no Nerudas, few of the calibre of
Leonard Cohen or Emily Dickinson....but we do have layers of excellence. Inspired outpourings frequently amaze from the most unexpected corners of our gathering. There are those who elevate themselves above the many on frequent occasions but any and all of us are capable of producing the odd inspired Masterpiece.
We all aspire to produce our very, very best as happily often as we are able.

Sadly there are those who choose to retreat into the ether, vanish with their art into obscurity for reasons of their own.... leaving a vacuum in their wake...and then there are they who tragically slip under the veil of death. All of us have lamented the passing of these dear souls, recalled the valued past moments shared in their verse and their companionship.

Occasionally, a gem wades into our pond, producing work of such clarity and inspired quality, words and phrases of such unqualified beauty and enchantment that they command universal attention and amazement. These poets shine like the sun and are the focus of the moment of the many....admiration, inspiration, enjoyment and occasionally, feelings of envy. Few of these shining stars endure for long, for they recognise and realise their talent, their potential, and aspire for higher things. They tend to migrate to poetic elevations in ponds of a higher strata.

Yea verily, there be elevated ponds in this domain, reaching right to the very top! Stratified ponds in rarified air where, unless you measure up, you don't belong! Expectancies are decreed and insisted upon in these regions. Membership is limited, controlled....and expensive. It costs to belong up there and membership is not without a constant level of stress. In these waterways you are dealing with the very top echelon of performers, the egos and the prima donnas and the fancy. There is an insistence on adherence and compliance. Here you are either in or you are out...and expulsion, from this  domain at these heady altitudes, can be sudden, permanent and quite malevolently viscious.

So thee, who may aspire to soar up there with the eagles, ponder the benefits of thy current caste, breathe the clear air and sip the nectar of this pleasant province. Count well thy blessings and then consider the quiescence and the harmony of your current company prior to making any descision to venture to take that leap!

With respect and gratitude to the denizens of HP.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
24 March 2024
When I'm stuck in a poem
Do I come out wounded or healed
Are my emptiness deeper or filled
Do I smile or feel a lump
Or in that wondrous bump
I jump in the joy of crying
And cry in the joy of knowing.

You have so much to tell
And upon you when I dwell
I'm changed and evolved
The exchanges lifting me up
Adding eyes to my eyes
You take me through sunset and sunrise.

If I'm eager to listen I learn
You give my life a new turn
Each poet is a unique book
Transforms me, my outlook
The young makes me grownup
The old makes me a child..

Such is the magic of poetry!

I'm grateful you took me in
Gave my life a new meaning
Gave your shoulders to cry
Offered your heart to dry.

Life has a short span
But I'll be here and hear you
As long as I can.
An anniversary note of gratitude on completion of a decade and a year on HP. Thanks fellow Poet friends for taking me with you on this rewarding journey.
I dreamed my way here
I’ve had my cringe moments
I feel pressure, I lose perspective
I’ve wholeheartedly failed
I misspeak, underthink, overreact
I try to do the right thing
the right thing isn’t always clear
I’ve tried to hold on
I’ve let go with grace
I’ve charged ahead
I’ve stepped aside
I self-sabotage, then try to do better
I’ve self-consciously retreated
I’ve stood up for others
I’ve backed down and apologized
I’ve rinsed and repeated
I’m a chameleon, but I’ve never been perfect
I’ve under-reacted to challenges
I’ve overreacted to the ordinary
I devalue likeability
I indulge the language of play
I share my human experience
I don’t know what else to say.
Next page