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What haunts my dreams
It's the monsters, those rabid things

Monsters disguise themselves so well
When they put on their human shell
You can't hardly tell
That under the skin a monster dwells

Yes my child monsters are real
On your soul they'll make a meal
Your spirit they will steal
Make it so you'll never heal

Once they get ahold
They'll never let you go

They well continue to dwell in your dreams
As they stomp around, those rabid things
My very dear friends and wonderful, international tribe of poets:
When I first joined you all here last August, I was in a time of deep solitude, culturing inner silence.
It became an ideal time to make real progress with my writing.
The part I had no idea about then, and that has become such a treasured part of my life, is the growth and blossoming of new friendships
with many of you!
On June 2nd, 2016, just over a month ago, I felt an innocent, spontaneous impulse to open up, once again, to the world around me.
After all that immersion in transcendental bliss consciousness, life began presenting me with beautiful new opportunities, which has in turn lead to the most fantastic job I have yet had the honor to call my own, in which I am able to express and employ
all of my particular set of talents and abilities.
Hence, then, my long absence, and my enormous, growing admiration for those of you who have families, jobs,
and also contribute excellent poems here!
*May the force be always with the poets, the writers, the thinkers, the artists... all the good and sincere well-wishers of our dear world family, and of our precious Mother Earth.

(I have just re-written this poem that speaks to my present experience and frame of mind, and thought to offer it again in this context.)


Eyes of Light

Momentarily, two eye-shaped
places in these thick grey clouds
stared directly at me, and there it was:

"Always be truthful.
Always be kind."

Just that.
A reminder.

Slipping down into the place
beyond all words,
feeling knowingness
seeping
into my bones,
residing in quiet bliss,
at home
in my own authenticity.

The lamp at the door shines,
both within, and without
residing, just being,
knowing, in the the words
of Julian of Norwich:
"All shall be well,
and all shall be well
and all manner
of things shall be well.”
©Elisa Maria Argiro
To keep a poet happy
First off... naturally...
You must give him time
Time to write
Time to rhyme
And three square stanzas
Every day
Keeping his writer's block
At bay...

His pen and paper
Must be fixed
Or a computer
In the mix
A thesaurus
A rhyming dictionary
Or perhaps the classic writing
Of a visionary...


Don't forget the light
To see his words
You also have to listen
He wants to be heard!
Some structure and a clock
To see the time
Avoid writer's block
And help him rhyme...

Here is the recipe
For his feeding
If he has the block
He needs to be eating!
A pinch of metaphor
A splash of color
An image or two
Then add another!


But dissing folks
Has NO allure...

Nobody wants to eat

MANURE !!!



The Girl Who Loved.You
SoulSurvivor
(C) October 10, 2014
There are many female
Poets TOO!!!
Just put a She/Her etc
Where indicated!

It was a great pleasure
Working with TGWLY...

She is a sweetheart!  ♥
 Jul 2016 Randy Mcpeek
cgembry
I dreamed up a world
Where reality had tilted
And the sky traded places
With the sea
We walked on streets
Of fluffy clouds
Caught stars in fishing nets
While gazing up at celestial waters
Making wishes on flying whales
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