Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Hiding from Spirits Oct31 by PoetryRoad

Anxiety stretched across a painted sky
Emotions run from screams
Shadows dance upon the graves
Behind the stones I hide
From the ancestors left behind
Mindless thoughts turned inside out
Regret fills my soul
Words never spoken cry
Pages of a book never turned
Lessons too late learned
The stone grows cold
Against my back
Darkened like the sky
Time was not the reason
Nor was the change of season
Just life in a young girl
Selfish whims and vanity
Questions chase the shadows
Regret fills the empty hole
Forgiveness seals the broken soul
The arm of death stretches
Wrapping itself around so close
The sky brings mornings light
The tears dry and I am alone
Reminded of a place called Home


Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Sand by Ninotaziz: A Talented Poet Who Blogs

  Check out a book from poets united here:


In a quiet space at the far corner of the world, there are no humans. The universe is still wondrous magic. The red sun gives way to the red moon, for the earth, though beautiful, is still suffering the dust that mankind leaves behind after a day's hard work. At polluting the air. The winds. The desert.
sand drops silently
into the desert of moons
witness to starburst
In the green verdant lush forest deep in the jungle, there are no humans. The tree canopies open up to the skies of flurrying clouds. The brooks give way to streams to rivers, laboring under the burden of progress that mankind deems so necessary. Polluting the river. The seas. The oceans.
tear drops with a splash
into the yawning ocean
gasping for air -
In the mindless stream of the digital consciousness, there are no humans. The internet is the wondrous highway that connects us all in a mysterious manner. Revolution gives way to revelation to renaissance of thought. Youtube, new media and twitter find their way to be relevant. Polluting the mind. The soul.
sable tombe -
dans le désert de lunes
voit la nuit étoilée


Friday, July 5, 2013

Cannonbal by Dave Crawley


The lifeguard won’t let me go back in the pool.
He tells me I’ve broken his number one rule.
He didn’t approve of my summertime smash—
The Sultan of Soakers, the cannonball splash.

The cannonball calls for an uncommon flair;
with legs tucked beneath me, I soared through the air.
With a splash that would make me the talk of the school,
I think that I just about emptied the pool.

I splashed Mr. Meese and his silly new hat.
I splashed Mrs. Simpkins, who called me a brat.
I splashed Suzy Smith from her head to her feet
and even the lifeguard, whose whistle went [I]tweet![I]

So now here I sit in the heat of the day.
No running. No splashing. And no way to play.
My friends are all swimming and staying real cool,
but the lifeguard won’t let me go back in the pool.