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preservationman Jul 2023
Shocked
Devasted
Loss for words
Talent, Tony Bennett
Moment in one’s life and time
Tony Bennett had a singing voice that attracts
Melody in tact
San Francisco wonders
New York City lights dim
East Coast and West Coast connected
Tony Bennett has gone yonder
Beyond our reach in elevation
His charm
Years of enrichment
The preserver forward
Mr. Bennett wants the world to move onward
Old Blue eyes
Always wise
Remembrance always
Cherished thoughts
Fans with tears
Tony Bennett’s Heaven preserver
Heaven’s target
Bulls eye Faith
Mr. Bennett’s music will always live on for many years to follow
Thank you for inspiring our hearts
The world’s loss
Heaven’s gain
Embrace
Until the time comes and we meet again
Andrew Geary Dec 2014
Heads bob over waves, another couple
passes. Bennett on his bath towel,
burying his fingers in the sand,
legs pointing toward the sea.

Tries to escape through summer’s haze,
but only recalls the room some years ago:
students speaking of Antigone and he
finally uttering a thought, but his thought
Is thought superfluous. A silence entering
Bennett. Bennett becoming that silence.

But suddenly he is here again,
watching the muttering old man
with his metal detector.
The old man stops, his ugly
voice hushes, and bends
down to grasp the Earth.
He wonders what is there.
Emily Tyler Jul 2013
You were one of those boys
Who I'd known since I was 4,
And who got confirmed in the
Christian faith
Six weeks ago.

One of those boys
Who joked around in class
In a way that made the tescher smile.

One of those boys
Who I was happy to have in my squad
For gym
Because I knew we would win
Team Handball.

He was a guy
Who was completely comfortable
If I referanced second grade,
Even if my memory
Embarrassed him.

Someone who was so happy
To go to highschool
And be on the football team,
And who had already made friends
With all the players.

And he was one of those boys
Who we all knew
Would be the one to score the winning goal.

I thought that he would always be there.
Because boys like Bennett Rill are rare.
R.I.P. Bennett James Rill, 1998-2013. We started off eighth grade with a death and ended the year with one. Bennett was electrocuted on the last day of school while reaching to catch his friend Luke when he fell off the roof of Fox Mill Elementary.
I hope theres football in heaven ❤❤❤❤❤
BB Tyler Sep 2014
In my hometown there is a road named
East Bennett.
Tonight, after work, under trees and streetlights,
I wondered if my whole life
that sign has been influencing me
subliminally;
as a wide-eyed child
and even now
driving by on the highway.

I'm leaving for Philly in December,
and Alan Watts
and the Tao Te Ching
are all I can ever seem to read.
martin Sep 2012
Take a butchers at this me old Chinas.
Slip ya Plates o' Meat into ya Jacks,
brew up a nice cup o' Rosy,
and if you haven't got a ****** what I'm on about,
feel free to fire me off a Jimmy Nail
and tell me it's a load of old cobblers.

Can you Adam an' Eve it,
I left me Dog 'n' Bone on the Apples
and when I went to call the Trouble 'n' Strife
some joker had Half-Inched it.

But that's not the worst of it.
When I got back to the Cat and Mouse
she'd done a bunk in me shiny new Jam Jar.
I couldn't believe me Pork Pies!

So here I am all on me Todd,
me only transport a ****** old **** van ****.
Gordon Bennett!
I'm goin' down the ****** for a few Britneys,
gonna get totally Brahms and List
and blow a big fat raspberry at the whole thing.

Tomorrow's another bale 'o' hay.
butchers hook = look,  china plates = mates,  plates 'o' meat = feet,  Jack the Rippers = slippers
Rosy Lea = tea,  ****** doo = clue,  Jimmy Nail = email,  cobbler's awls = *****,  
Adam & Eve = believe,  dog 'n' bone = phone,  apples & pears = stairs,  trouble & strife = wife,  
half-inch = pinch,  cat & mouse = house,  jam jar = car,  pork pies = eyes,  Todd Sloan = alone,  
**** van **** = bike,  Britney Spears = beers,  Brahms & List = ******,  raspberry **** = ****,  
bale 'o' hay = day.

I imagine for those who don't know about it, Cockney Rhyming Slang seems improbable. Originally conceived perhaps to confuse eavesdroppers, its heyday may have passed but it is still widely used in its heartland, the East End of London and beyond. Some words are used commonly all over the UK,  sometimes without the user realising the derivation, in fact I grew up saying "give us a butcher's"  and "boracic" (boracic lint = skint = no money) among others.    Also, as in Britney and Glorias (Gloria Gaynors = trainers) new ones are still being coined.  A bit of an oddball me old chinas, but I hope you enjoyed this little taste of chitty chitty  (bang bang = slang).
Emily Tyler Sep 2013
It was supposed to be fun.

New school, new supplies,
Thin, neon highlighters glowing inside
Vera Bradley backpacks.

Skinny folders assigned to
Pointless subjects,
Which would be fattened
With pointless homework
By the end of the day.

It was supposed to be fun,
And for a little while, I forgot.

I forgot until History.

The new teacher hadn't lived here
Longer than a week,
Which was why he was
Excited
About teaching.

He had on a brand new tie
From Banana Republic
Which was obviously tied
By his wide eyed fiance.

His classroom was bare, as he explained,
"Don't worry,
I ordered posters yesterday."

The teacher wasn't the problem.

The problem was,
Between Richardson
And Roberts,
He still existed.

At least in the school system he did.

"Ashley Paulette?"
"-Here."
"Abby Richardson?"
"-Here."
"Bennett Rill?"

And my life shattered all over again.

The silence felt
Deafening.

Remembering how he wouldn't be there.
Not ever.

"Bennett Rill?"

The teacher was confused, looking around the room
For someone
Who was buried six feet under.
Someone who the teacher might've thought
Was sick, or vacationing.

It was supposed to be fun.
But then I remembered
One of my really good friends, Bennett, died on the last day of school last year. There are more poems about him on my page.
When for the Muse shall I wrangle those Songs
And carry them Gently to your Heart's place
First my Errors make Pure; Then Right my Wrongs
To listen, dear Talent of Promising Grace
If such my Words be too Quipped for your Pick
Since I, abandoned the Once-Supporting Friend
Shall I bite Sincere; Then hear your Voice unique
By Faith my Cloudy Attitude amend
Then crank this Ampled Recorder to Like
Which by Prayers fast weave a Chuffled Tune
To capture those Drums; From Snails such Elves devise
And summon the Crowd to revere you soon.
That is my Wish; Though Hoodwinked I become
Blow Notes for your Pen; Such Pen your Gift's Sum.
#emilybennnett
Vivian May 2014
the wind whips
at your back like a
slave master;
the water trots
at your feet like a
dog scorned;
the pavement shoves
at your being like a
puberty-struck bully.

this violence is what you
live for, the constant
back and forth, back and forth,
of man vs. nature vs. man vs. self
round and round and round
you go,
laps at the criterium, muscle memory
firing, lactic acid eliciting
yearnings of tranquility you
push yourself on
just one more, just one more,
never allowing yourself respite as though
you were fleeing
Death herself.
BB Tyler Aug 2010
It's easy to say things when they don't mean anything,
and that's how I've always gotten by.
But then I said something that ripped off my skin,
and my sea-soaked beauty didn't want to give in.
She ****** me, I ****** her,
we danced all night,
I wrote her a poem,
when I forgot how to write.
Shannon Curry Mar 2010
smiles revealed during September,
leads to words throughout November,
and greater things come in December

now its May
and some days
it feels like I'm falling apart,
because my love can do nothing to mend your broken heart

things have a way of coming back to us
what was the name of that song by Yes?

well it's only the second sighting of you this week
wish we could sneak
back to your place,
but everyone can tell
by the look on my face,

its a Thursday

I love the buttons on your coat
and the way you can't hold your smoke
corduroys and shades of blue

driving down the road
there is a sound
but we both know, it's just the snow

just abdicate your objections
they incapacitate my affections

I don't need to ameliorate my attendance rate

I'm losing every ambition that I thought I ever had
no one even notices
no surprises, no surprises there

deja vu for you
I'm certain this future isn't true
I just can’t say adieu
copyright Shannon Curry
o·cean
ˈōSHən/Submit
noun
a very large expanse of sea, in particular, each of the main areas into which the sea is divided geographically.
Andrew Geary Dec 2014
Is present once again
in his blackened room,
hears songs in the trees.
The window glows: the sun
reaches all, and doesn’t care
about your comb-over.


Darkness leaves the world,
life refills the street:
cars commuting, bodies shifting
across concrete, passing
familiar others. Emil enters.

He watches the girl
over there: greasy black hair,
paled skin. She is pretty
in her damaged way.
Emil shoves away
Those thoughts, bites
into his McMuffin:
these are getting better.

Slow through the park,
Emil lingers. Joggers in their routes,
a Frisbee keeping itself in the air
until sputtering in the trim grass–
Emil overlooks everything.

He sees the marks glow
underneath his secretary’s
sleeves. He staggers over,
smiling, “I heard what you said,
that your girlfriend broke-in
and bit you in the arm.
If you need to, you can
stay at my place
for a while.” She smiles
a smile Emil’s been aware of
since middle school,
when girls wouldn’t even look
at him and his acne-scars twice.

He opens his door, and walks
within the black, only outlines
of things show. He flips the light
switch. Only he can alter this world.
midnight prague Apr 2011
I would like if I could, to venture out
into a baroque cave where the walls are translucent
and all that surrounds it are rivers of coherence
and incoherence
where I can scream, and when my echoes
radiate they bounce off on me and touch
the spaces in between my fingers
bizarre and ornate
rococo chimes lift my spirit
progressive, regressive
subliminal rising, into the sea of whispers
and final decisions  
and crazed hands
and melting lips
and bruised knuckles
and fighting wrists...

I subsist to consist
of the fluid that makes me up
lavender barely breathing
flowers/continue/endure

hang tough, low by lakes of conspiracy
and hate/ block eyes/ shed those ill states

I carry this entity/essence/life gentely
in my arms like a ancestor. mother .
press its head against my skin and give it everything
in my blood filled hands, sinful/blessed/ tiered creatures
I feel beautiful in these worlds.

eyes closed in sleep, palms spread forth
oceans cleansing, I feel like an infant
stomach twists and hearts bat burnt wings
and learn to fly

I radiate.full hearted. eminence spoke to me
through her portal of solid grass and dieing trees
in the outskirts of the vagabond, slowly unraveling
like a child speaking
slowly growing like new love
stricken instantly
I am in
between Cleopatra and Mark
between Orpheus and Eurydice
between Odysseus and Penelope
between Elizabeth Bennett and Darcy
between Salim and Anarkali
I shiver in that love
that breathes in determent
and breathes out fragrance  
  

temperate plasma hooked onto
the grind of my woman I beat like
the robins breast/ trembling in awe
like a living leaf blowing in the winter wind
resisting/giving in/ perishing/ breathing
to the sound of this beautiful life
Ut
[Dedicated to Allan Bennett]


I

Hail to the golden One
Seen in the midmost Sun !
Hail to the golden beard and golden lips,
His whole lige golden to the finger-tips !
Hail to the golden hair in golden showers
Hiding the eyes like blue blue lotus-flowers !
His name is Ut, for He
Hath risen above all things that be.

II

Ardent and white, the Lord
Whirls forth a strident sword.
Its blade is broader than the great World-Ash ;
Its edge is keener than the lightning flash.
Brighter than all the lights of heaven, it whirls
Out in a chaos of creative curls
And sheathes itself in Me,
Arisen above all things that be.

III
Even as the burning tongue
Og God to God that clung
Dissolved his being to a nameless naught,
Brake all the wings and waves of time and thought,
So in the quivering flame that hurled
Its founts of life to the remotest world
Supreme stood Death, and sware
Destruction to all things that were !

IV

Child, father, warrior,
I worshipped thee before ;
Friend, bridegroom, now I yield me to the rod.
My God, and very God of very God
As breath, as death, as all, as naught, unknown,
Known, is there not an end, when one alone
Stand I, and thou, and He
Arisen above all things that be?
captured in the psych ward, a special case comes in to the HDU





since florence jones was put on seroquel, she had weird finger movements as

well as weird sudden movements in her sleep, like she was pushed down the stairs

and she went into the mental health building to abuse them that they take better care of her

you see every time florence watches a TV show, she would act on it and her flat mate lived in the

dark ages with her because there were certain programs that thru shouldn’t watch

but flornce just sat there looking at her hands, and she saw them having abnormal movements

and then she watched an episode of prisoner, and for about 20 days she dressed up as b smith

and then vera bennett saying to all the rich arrogant screws out there is room to reform, because if b smith

can move from inmate to prison guard and it wasn’t just in her imagination, oh no, she would bash an old

***** on the street and steal her security pass and after that she said she would never do that and

the police took her to the HDU, where ron diagnosed her with multi personality disorder and kept her on

seroquel where she will be monitored just to make sure these delusions she is getting to go away

and florence said to ron at the point when he said, do you want me to contact your parents, she jumped up

and said, no, they aren’t my real parents, i was led on their doorstep when i was 3 months and i was too

young to know what they looked like, and ron said, i know, but it would be handy and nice of you to have

the people who raised you and florence said, they did a hopeless job of raising me, i never got to do anything

i wanted to do, and then ron said why is that, and florence said it started from disney land, they promised me

i will go to disney land, but i got grounded and they cancelled the tickets, and then i wanted to go to adelaide

to watch the christmas pageant and they said yeah, but then i got grounded again and we didn’t get there

they said i needed help, but i said, i was just being a normal kid, ya know want this want that, and ron went away

to check her records and rang her parents and they said, they took her bushwalking every weekend and

they took her to the melbourne zoo as well as phillip island to see the fairy penguins, and we had  to say to a few

of her wild and wacky suggestions, simply because we had no money, but i assure you, we never led her on

and ron said goodbye and went out to the HDU, and said, are you sure your parents did this, because they

explianed that they didn’t have enough money to go everywhere and florence said what crap, they have you

twisted around your little finger because they never cared for me from day 1 and ron said i will put you on

serence, both these drugs together will push all the anger out of you, and, yes your fingers are moving, but

that will cure in time, and then florence said, ok and afterwards told the nurses to get ******, and not bother

to get dinner to het, because she hates hospital food and ron bought out the dinners as well as a counsellor for

florence, you see, florence could hurt someone, so trained counsellors are employed to stand outside her door

in shifts and then ron came back out to deliver the medications and charlie chaplin said, is my medication threre

i am tired, ron said hello tired i am dr ron and ron went home, stopping at the wood fired pizza restaurant bought a pizza

and went home to lose himself in front of the TV, trying to figure out how to cure Florence
DC raw love Dec 2014
We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them

Alan Wilson
Canned Heat

Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience

Janis Joplin

Jim Morrison
The Doors

Brian Cole
The Association

Billy Murcia
New York Dolls

Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse

Gram Parsons
The Stooges

Gary Thain
Uriah Heep

Elvis Presley

Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears

Keith Moon
The Who

Sid Vicious
*** Pistols

Lowell George
Little Feat

Jimmy McCulloch
Wings

John Bonham
Led Zeppelin

Darby Crash
Germs

James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders

Pete Farndon
Pretenders

Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army

Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids

Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy

Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone

Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead

Steve Clark
Def Leppard

Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls

David Ruffin
The Temptations

Kristen Pfaff
Hole

Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon

Bradley Nowell
Sublime

John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band

Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins

Billy Mackenzie
Associates

West Arkeen
The Outpatience

Nick Traina
Link 80

John Baker Saunders
Mad Season


Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler

Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy

Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band

Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot

Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons

Kurt Cobain
Nirvana

Dee Dee
Ramones

Robbin Crosby
Ratt

John Entwistle
The Who

Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto

Tim Hemensley
GOD

Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen

Rick James

Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot

Ike Turner

Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson

Jay Bennett
Wilco

Michael Jackson

The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold


Paul Gray
Slipknot

Mike Starr
Alice in Chains

Amy Winehouse


We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand
Have love in your heart for all
We are all one in the same
Robyn Apr 2013
I am Mary
Looking upon Lydia with disdain
Oh how I'd love to look like Jane
But truly
I want to be Elisabeth
I am Mary
Waiting for someone to answer me
Oh how I wish I was the same
But really
I want to be Elisabeth
I am Mary
And I try to be the best
Oh how I try to tease and jest
But truly
I only look a fool
I am Mary
Holding myself above all else
Oh how I'm told to be myself
But really
I want to be Elisabeth
Unnamed Nov 2013
I'm having a Jazz Affair, I'm sorry to admit.
Michael Buble has a voice, a sound full of grit.
that makes even me, sound and strong,
think to myself "I might be wrong."

I'm having a Jazz Affair, my love it's true.
Even though I will always love you.
The sound of swing and Tony Bennett,
gets me so I almost forget it.

I'm having a Jazz Affair, but you'll always have my heart.
It's sad but true, Jazz is an art.
Some music is faster and more compelling,
but Jazz just keeps on singing, and loving and telling.
Nat Lipstadt May 2013
S3

Sleepless, Shuffling In Stockholm

Somewhere in my body,
A bifurcated clock ticks,
Two clock faces,
White on black,
Vice versa.

Mixed media messages,
Crazy train station internal,
Brain activity fevered,
Arrive/depart according to
Somebody else's schedule,
Somebody else occupying,
Every street of my body

Lying asleep,
Typing these words,
It is the middle of the night,
Bright daylight suffuses the room
What part of my metaphysical schema,
Ain't jet lagged legally,
And poetically entitled to be
Stockholm Syndrome Confused?

Times have really changed,
Oh my, when you propose,
Let's go to Stockholm,
Anything goes!

So my schedule reordered
In the land of either all
Light or Dark, twenty hours four,
I turn to my boon companion,
Who soothes at any hour,
My music, my Nano,
And I find myself, musically,

Shuffling in Stockholm.

Meatloaf and Piazzolla,
Muddy Waters and Purple Rain,
Marvin Gaye and Pink Martini,
Beethoven, Straight No Chaser,
Beatles, Stones, Bennett vs. Buble,
The lack of sleep a permanent fixture,
Courtesy of this Bach-us admixture,

So should you see a gappy, khaki, clad tourist,
Meandering o'er the islands of this charming city,
In Ingmar Bergman fashion,
Black and white erratic,
Alternating, swaying and shuffling,
No tongue clucking,
Nah, he's not drunken,
Just dancing while sight seeing,
In a sleep deprived manner,
Someday a movie to be,
Sleepless, Shuffling In Stockholm
A/K/A
S3

June 30 ~ July 2, 2012
Stockholm, Sweden
Seb Tha Guru Jun 2022
No my name’s not Bennett , but I’m really in it.
Never one to just go with the flow,
I’m just trying to win it.

Not wanting my relationship to be a situationship; it’s dangerous.
Can’t even see the monsters that you’ve made of us.

Raising up.
Raising brows.
Cover up my own smile.
Thinking I could fill the void by having me a second child.

My hearts full.
Full of emotion.
Full of neglect.
Full of myself.
Full of my friends and loved ones that are left.

Feeling out of touch, I’m trying to change my life and run it up.
The marathon continues , but I can’t be no runner up.

Dumb it down.
Sound it out.
Passion’s what I’m all about.
Crazy, but I want a happy home before I get a house.
Feeling by myself but it’s like ten people on the couch.

It ***** for me.
But soon I’ll reach my clarity, guess lucky me.

Stuck to me.
Looking up the definition of custody.
My words and my heart’s all I got left, don’t give a **** to me.

I need a hug.
Find comfort in myself but I can’t see the love.

Back and forth with self worth.
Thinking bout my son’s birth.
AMB, this thing will last forever long as I’m on Earth.
Almost had that took away.
I’m suffering like every day.
Mentally I’m in maze, trying to fix these evil ways.

Evil thoughts.
Thought about it all when my last breath was caught.
Almost in a hole for real, my demons had a hold of wheels.

Heal just to rebuild, but I ain’t got the time, I pop a pill.
Things been wrong for so long that I can’t even taste a meal.
Chasing thrills.
Heavy with the consciousness, maybe I am too chill.

Rolling down the steepest hill, premeditate my own will.
Ellis Reyes Apr 2013
During the Depression little Evie
sewed dolls from Granny's quilt scraps.

World War II knew her as Evelyn.
Builder of planes, defender of freedom.

Cousin Bobby called her Auntie,
He moved in with us when he was 12.

44 years of first graders adored Mrs. Bennett,
who read them stories with love and expression.

She was Dad's one and only Sugar.

Now,
one breath later,
she is

the deceased
the body
the cadaver
the remains

Nothing more.
Trevon Haywood Sep 2016
You will not break my spirit burning bright,
turn my day to terror'd night
you will not break my cities tall and proud,
run my family underground

you will not break me!

you will not rob my leaders of their will,
clergy of their faith,
you will not peel stripes from my face
poke holes through my stars

you will not get away with this!

you will not turn my red, white and blue
into painful black and blue,
you will not break my children's acrid innocence,
my freedom to endure,
you will not take my mother and hold her hostage,
break my back first man, 'cause I'll seek justice

I'm an American!

My colors do not run,
I'm black, white, brown, yellow and tan
I'm an American!
You broke into family's home
killed brothers and sisters
one day I will get you
because I'm an American!
and
you will not break me,
you will not break me,
you will not break the hope in my child's eyes
peace will prevail to your surprise,
love is strength in numbers,
your will is bound by hatred

America slumbers no more,
the giant has awaken and
years of complacent, fat-cat politics
is now down to ***** out heretics
I got *****
I got *****
I got ***** swinging from the hips of
Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull
ready to bounce you out of your holes!

I got soul,
I got soul
I got soul like no others got soul,
got soul like Tina Turner, James Brown,
Ella Fitzgerald and the New York City Fire Department

I'm an American!

I got heart,
I got heart like no others got heart
I got heart like the Tin Man found
I got heart like Tony Bennett, George Foreman,
Marlon Brando, Jesse Owens,  BB King, John Belushi
Johnny Franco and the Miracle Mets!
I'm an American!
I'm an American!
and
you will not break me
you will not break me
you will not break me!

Frank Messina. 9/11/2016.
It's not just any kind of poem, the 9/11 poem
Eris Mar 2015
He'll love you more than he loved me because with you, you're perfect. Being your everything it's the greatest thing he can give to you.
                                    
I just want to say a few things, I want to tell you how lucky you are because you and him? You may as well be a perfect match and with that I want you to appreciate him. Appreciate his presence because girl, that's what I'm longing for. Show him how much you care and how much you admire him despite his imperfections (I tell you though you'll find beauty in them too)

I could never compare to you. The way he looks at you, it's much more meaningful. You are the sun, moon, stars that give him warmth when it's cold. When he thinks of you he just can't help but smile because you are his sunshine, something to look forward to everyday. You will be gravity that holds things perfectly in place, you will be his queen. All the things I never was and never could be will be you.
You will be his Juliet,
his Cossette,
his Elizabeth Bennett.        
And I
Will be no one.

Take care of him, love him with a love greater than mine. If you can.

Sincerely,
The girl he loved before
My mind is just sooooooo messy. My thoughts are killing me. They're drowning me, torturing me, cutting my heart and skin exposing my faults, downfalls and my shortcomings when it comes to loving him.
~
December 2024
HP Poet: CJ Sutherland
Age: 63
Country: USA


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, CJ. Please tell us about your background?

CJ Sutherland: "My parents both college graduates from St. Paul’s Minnesota. 4 days after they were married in a Catholic Church, they ran away to California. Mother, age 22, started having babies one after the other, a total of 5 children. As a young child, I thought my mother was dead, anytime I mentioned her, I would get a shove, a kick, a shaking of the head from my siblings.

Dad remarried; a make up artist with Warner Bros. Studios. She was unable to love another person‘s children. She was a mean wicked stepmother. She had one child, together they had two children. His, Hers and Theirs. The move from Burbank to the San Fernando Valley Tarzana was considered country. We had a ranch style house, a guest house, swimming pool with the slide and diving board and a pool house barn chicken coup for 200 chickens.

Age 10, a lady screamed at the house: "You can’t keep my children from me." My stepmother threatened to call the police. Looking out the window, holding my elder sister‘s hand, I said who is that? In a small, trembling voice, my sister said mom. We had a very tumultuous childhood to say the least, but it shaped who we were, and who we would become. I had a lot of questions. For a short period of time we were able to see mom and it was evident she was not well. One day she was gone, no explanation. She was dying of terminal cancer, but we didn’t know that yet. She stopped all treatment and became a homeless person in downtown LA Skid Row.

Age 19, her mother (grandmother) was dying and tasked me to find her daughter, my mom. I searched every alley, soup kitchen with an old photograph grandma gave me looking for mom. For months nothing. The last place a Thrift Store/ woman’s shelter where females could get feminine products, I found her. She came home with me for 2 days then told me she had to go back. She was in a hospice care with some Catholic nuns who told me she was dying; throat cancer; 46 years old. We had her back in our lives 3 months before she passed away. I struggled with all that happened, but life goes on.

All of us siblings excelled in school. We all maintained a 4.0 grade average. We all had aspirations to achieve careers. I was on a fast track to Medical School. I graduated high school age 15, started Jr. college and completed occupational courses for certification medical billing and coding specialist. So I can pay for college, I married at age 16, had a child at 19 and divorce at 21. My first husband was 5 years older, yet he was still a child. I swore off men.

Love at first sight. I am at husband number two. He told me he loved me after a week. He asked me to marry him. I told him he was flipping nuts. “I don’t even know you!” Looking in his eyes I knew he was serious. He had not met my child yet. If he could not love her as his own child as much as I loved him, I would not continue the cycle of the wicked step parent. Over the year they bonded. Two weeks before the year was up, he was down on bended knee. We have been married 39 years and together for 42.

I finally was accepted to USC. My dreams of becoming a doctor, we’re so close, 2 weeks before starting school. My husband‘s work moved him 5 hours away. Decision: divorce husband, become a doctor or stay married and change my dreams. We’ve had many adventures along the way, moving further up northern California, getting away from the rat race."



Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

CJ Sutherland: "I started keeping journals at the age of 12. I’m currently on my 98th journal. Effectively I’ve captured my entire life and those around me in the moment. Life inspires me. My father invented the 5 cent word game. Pick a new Dictionary word, it must be 3 or more syllables and use it correctly all day long.
When you achieve that, you get 5 cents. We all had a 5 cent jar. Looking at all of those nickels was a testament to education. It was more than the money, it was improving our lexicon."



Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

CJ Sutherland: "I hear a word or phrase on talk radio or music lyrics, I quickly have to write it down because it triggered a thought, a poem, a rough draft. I have pen and paper around the house when these moments strike to capture before they’re gone. While I’m on my daily walks at the park, I speak into the phone to capture inspiration. Then I put them in draft format. Currently, I have 51 poems in draft format, in different stages of completion. BLT's Webster’s word of the day challenge can be easily inserted at this point with the perfect word."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

CJ Sutherland: "Poetry is not something I do, it’s who I am. My ultimate goal is to compile a book of poetry. I would like to have at least one poem of every type of genre to broaden my horizon. I am published in 3 anthologies. I am a Poet Laureate with the International Poet Society. I was up for poet of the year three consecutive years. Florida hosts a week symposium with open mic to read your poetry, as well as classes on every aspect of poetry imaginable. I’ve received many accolades trophies, ribbons, coins, all in the quest for perfection. I too realize a certain amount of this was a scam when Poetry Books such as “up-and-coming poets”, “who’s who in poetry“ would feature me on the front page. Look beyond vanity and begin to see the light. While they are published books for purchase, they are meant to sucker the poet into buying several copies for their family and friends.

The poetry site crashed several years ago and I lost about 300 poems. I have been on other poetry sites whose purpose is for winning contests and publication in periodical and magazines. It’s a lot of work. Even with all of these accolades, this recognition is more precious to my heart. While somebody could read a poem and decide they think they know what it means and find it worthy, but to be able to know the back history from the poet and why they wrote that particular poem I find much more enriching. I wish everybody would fill out their bio or at least write foot notes why they wrote that particular piece of work."



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

CJ Sutherland: "My favorite American poets:
1) Walt Whitman; Song of Myself.
2) Emily Dickinson; Because I Could Not Stop for Death.
3) Robert Frost; The Road Not Taken.
4) EE Cummings; I Carry Your Heart and To Be Nobody, But You.

British poets:
1) Alfred Tennyson.
2) William Wordsworth.
3) Elizabeth Bennett Browning.
These are just off the top of my head.

While at the University I took classes in American and British literature, thinking it would be easy. It was harder than my medical studies. I loved the backstory of how the poet became who they are today."



Question 6: What other interests do you have?

CJ Sutherland: "With so many kids we made Christmas gifts. I started crocheting at the age of 12; the yarn given to me by the little old ladies at the church. My first blanket was 276 granny squares. I wish Sean one stitch to granny stitch. I’ve been crocheting for 51 years. I can see anything and make it without a pattern. I have two grandsons who moved into their own homes with their wives, they are both getting blankets for their new homes. So far, I’ve made four lap throws for watching TV. Each of these blankets take 3 to 4 days. I’m pretty fast.

I’ve done a lot of other things quilting, embroidery, canning. I make candle and soaps, and I’m on my way to be coming an herbalist. I cook every day from scratch. It’s a lot harder to make food for two people than it is for me to make dinner for 20 people. Bread making is my new passion. The art of artisan bread it’s definitely challenging. Jams and jellies are great gifts. I even make my own laundry soap for 2 cents a load. My creativity blends itself in many genres, whatever suits my fancy."



Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much CJ, we truly appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! We are thrilled to include you in this ongoing series!”

CJ Sutherland: "Thank you to Carlo for featuring me as the 22nd recipient of HP Spotlight. I hope everybody gets a chance to share their story. There are so many kind poets on this site I am lucky to call friends, I hope everybody checks out the different challenges such as BLT's Webster word of the day challenge."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know CJ a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #23 in January!
~
Joe and Rose’s Children

Joseph’s plane was shot down near England during  WWII
John was assassinated in 1963 of November Twenty-Two

Rose Marie Mary had a lobotomy because she was acting aggressively
Kathleen, wed Wm J Robt Cavendish and she later died unexpectedly

Eunice married a great man,  Lieutenant  Robert S. Shriver
Patricia wed actor Peter Lawford, their marriage wasn't forever

Robert wed Ethel Skakel, he was another that was assassinated
Jacqueline Bovier felt sure that the Kennedy’s might be hated

Married to Stephen Edward Smith
Jean was wed to him until his death

Edward (Ted) late one night drove off a bridge at Chappaquiddick
Reporting the next day about Mary Jo Kopechne was quite horrific

Ted was married twice, first to Virginia Joan Bennett  1958–1982
And then next until his death Victoria Anne "Vicki" Reggie too

Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
Who Am I ?
Well I Am a young women by the name of NIKIA ALEXIS HATWOOD - BENNETT-HARDY.....
Who AM I ?
A STRONG DETERMINED PERSON is who I am .
Am I everything that my parents or everyone else wanted me to be ?

No I AM NOT.....
Who Am I ?
I AM A CHILD OF GOD
AND I AM A LOVING -KIND HEARTED PERSON.....

WHO AM I ?
A UNIQUE INDIVIDUAL I AM
AM I A STRONG POET ?
YES THAT IS WHO I AM!

WHO I AM?
A UNDERSTANDING, PAIENT PERSON .
ALSO A RELIABLE PERSON is WHO I AM?

WHO AM I ?
A LOVING DAUAGHTER
A LOYAL FRIEND
A WONDERFUL WIFE
A CARING / DEVOTED MOTHER
A EXCELLENT STUDENT

WHO AM I ?
I AM ALL OF THOSE ABOVE AND MORE ...

WHO AM I ?
I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES ME UNCONDITIONALLY ON THIS EARTH.....
WHO AM I ?
I AM A MOTHER OF TWO .... A UNBORN AND MY DAUGHTER NEVEAH AMIRIA MANYOK!
WHO AM I IS NO A QUESTION .....






















WHO AM I ?
I AM ALL THOSE ABOVE AND SO MUCH MORE
Anon C Jan 2013
On the corner of Nansemond's Parkway and Bennett's Pasture
a heartbreaking scene can be found
almost appearing to be a mass grave
for such a small, innocent intersection
how many lives has it claimed
stones, flowers and crosses rest serenely under the trees
masking the horror that must have occurred on many an occasion
I wonder
how many more will you claim, little crossroad
could I be next
as I pass each day

— The End —