Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CK Baker May 2017
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!


duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
Jack Jenkins Apr 2017
A country that the world left behind
when rubber could be made by man.
The country that slaves found home.

I love this country
that I haven't set
foot on it's soil
yet.

I want to walk it's
dusty trails into
rainforests and
hidden tribes.

I want to sing with
all the vagabonds
ragamuffins &
castaways.

It's a country unknown
a frontier to discover.
A place to call home
maybe...
Surgí en mi patria, tiempo después,

bajo la luna de Xelajú,

hoy te tengo en mis raíces quetzaltecas

Y te llevo en la sangre por tus recuerdos gratos.

Despierta patria en la que nací,

pues tanta violencia te ha agotado,

despierta pueblo, pues te a enfermado

gente egoísta y corrupta.

De las ruinas surge, más fuerte,

patria mía despierta a aquellos

que siguen nublados con los ojos sellados.

Pueblo levántate, pueblo trabaja,

pueblo llénate de sabiduría,

no dejes que te olviden, ¡Guatemala levántate!

Conciudadano, hermano mío,

se honesto, fiel, honrado

y no seas un ratón mas en en este nido de ilusiones.

No dejo de cantar a mi patria,

alzo mi canto junto a la bandera celeste y blanco,

con el corazón en mi pecho gritando: ¡Guatemala despierta!
Sometimes i observed the people and I realize that they are asleep should i wake them? or it is that I am also asleep?
Darrel Weeks Mar 2017
This England rises an falls
It is the way of the reddest rose
To offer its unfortunate beauty
And whither and die
It's funeral is diarised
Voices raised in joy
Are tears against broken dreams
Are we laughing ?
Are you laughing ?
032417

Tayo ang makabagong henerasyon!
Tama na at bumangon na pagkat
Natutulog ang Diyos at wala Siyang ginagawa.
At hindi ako naniniwalang
May pag-asa pa ang bayang Pilipinas.
Para sa akin,
Bilang isang disipolo,
Bilang isang Pilipino,
At bilang isang anak ng Diyos,
Hindi na tayo makauusad pa.
Hindi na tayo makababangon pa
Ipagsigawan natin sa lahat na
Isang kahangalan ang
Paglingkuran ang ating Panginoon.
Tumayo para sa bayan,
Ipaglaban ang pamilya,
Mahalin at pahalagahan ang sarili't kapwa,
Mas piliin nating
Umasa sa iba at hayaan ang araw lumubog nang wala tayong ginagawa
Kaysa sa
Magbago ng pananaw at magbagong buhay
Kumilos at tayuan ang pananampalataya
Pagkat ang dapat at tama nating gawin ay
Lunurin ang sarili sa hapding dulot ng mundo.
Talikuran na natin ang kapwa Pilipino,
Ayos lang na itapon ang bawat pangarap,
Hanggang dito na lang tayo,
At mali na sabihin at paniwalaang,
Makababangon pa tayo bilang isang lahing may iisang mithiin.
Na makakaya pa nating tumayong muli.
Pagkat ito ang katotohanan,
Wala nang pag-asa ang bayang ito.
Wag na natin linlangin ang ating mga sarili na
Magkakaroon pa rin ng malaking pagbabago.
Kung lahat tayo'y makikibahagi sa pagsulong,
Hindi natin maitatangging
Wala na tayong maiaambag pa.
Wala na tayong magagawa pa at
Hangal lang ang magsasabing
Buhay ang ating Diyos,
Tayo ay ipinag-isang bansa.
Read upwards
CK Baker Mar 2017
lady craighead played the blues
on a stand-up samick
in the ***** room
along side the parsons project
and squabbling dogs
and night moves

stairs creek
up the mezzanine trek
wool sheets slide
on finished floors
little angels
play late into the seventh
(a closing match nearing
the midnight hour)

croaking toads and cicada
sing in the blue moon
musty smells and mothballs
settle deep in the vault
the kettle boils
and cat coils
as the pump house rolls
its heavy drawl

the red phone rings
and bird clock sings
(behind the ruddy stall)
a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez
employed heartily
by the incomparable master jack
marble toast burning
wringer wash churning
chris craft running
near the old carp canoe

rooster calls
and west wind squalls
rustle through the porch screen door
chicken *** pies
and rogue flies linger
a rocker chair placed
near the  sepia face
(softened by the intricate frame)

donkey in tow
(with a fastened ***)
maggie in her dreams
of green tambourines
the nocturnes
reflections
and whispering gospel bells

tractors pull on
the grinder stone
horses lay still
in the mid-day sun
a trump card is fingered
at the furnace click
(crosswords and puzzles are next!)
while the sparrow
and that **** rabid fox
are drowning
deep in castles well
Colm Mar 2017
Behind every dusty picture frame
And written on every window pane
Within this empty house of mine
You will find
The quiet little secrets which I left inside
Before I moved back to the city
To a place where I needed to be
In order to continue my life of ease
Want to know if it's true? (:
Alan S Bailey Mar 2017
Addiction to this
Way of life, this country pride,
While others love it
Next page