Enjoy these poems and please email the poets (where applicable) and give them some feedback!
SENSE OF SMELL The pollen filled air flirts subconsciously with my senses. Trying to recognize a smell is always such a difficult task. With every gulp of fresh air, a combination of new thoughts pace rapidly from ear to ear hoping to be packaged and presented as a new idea on something once remembered. It seems as though the breathing process leaves me with a wealth of information on nothing. Constantly locating unimportant useful tools used to predict past events. My memory searches the mind with a flashlight, looking for thoughts hidden in the corners and cracks of the brain triggered by a smell. The head detective opens old and closes new cases in a world of dyslexia. The Art Spirit (c) firstname.lastname@example.org ========================================================== FROM MAN TO WOMAN I am not you, nor do I want to be you. You are not me, nor do I want you to be me. Yet I love you for who you are, and I feel as if we are one in gladness, and in sadness. I just want you to know . . . I will always be with you. Chuck Reimer (c) email@example.com ============================================== IF I HOLD MY HEAD STILL If I hold my head still vanish all thoughts I can feel the vibrations of your beating heart I can feel the pulsating of your loving spirit as it reaching out to me across so many miles I can hear the music of your life giving laughter so easily acquired yet still priceless and irreplaceable If I hold my head still I can touch you with my mind feeling the heat of your desire warming the depths of my being If I hold my head still I can’t help but wonder Will I capture a moment and extend it to a lifetime of true happiness Carmelita (c) BoNitaLita@aol.com ============================================== SOUL SEARCHING Life is playing games with my mind, I can't seem to find my way. I'm looking for something I can't seem to find, I'm looking for a brighter day. With each passing day, another dream drowns, and I go on another whimsical journey. My sun eclipses, and my smiles become frowns, I start to dislike being me. Life has me caught up in an unusual situation. My life is so disturbed and complex. It's filled with endless chaos and aggravation. I don't know what's coming next. My mind says stop though my body keeps going. I'm getting tired of running this race. The tension is rising, and confusion is growing. I can't seem to find my place. I fall to my knees and look to the skies, "Lord anoint this lost child." He embraces my soul, and wipes my eyes. "My child, I was here all the while." Angela M. Jones-Carr (c) Angela.Jones-Carr@siemenscom.com ============================================== CIVIC CENTER A pandemonium of homeless victims surrounded by city, state and federal agencies a park, no longer a park buildings monitored by security officers people requesting? no demanding, "spare change" officials earning astronomical incomes. Feces strewn on streets and in alleyways urine soaked sidewalks assault the nostrils faces displaying despair, anger and hurt bodies clad in tattered, soiled rags foul language, wine and drug abuse all manner of illicit and licentious acts. Fear for those employed here anger at the homeless, constant reminder of man's inhumanity to man hope? no. Prayer to survive another day to continue walking by, not hearing not seeing, not feeling the pain, hating the sights, the smell of desperation, loathing, but always returning to the Civic Center. Aqeela El-Amin (c) Aqeelaw@aol.com ============================================== DUNGEON Eight days in a dungeon, my demons and me, They rage and rage, until I cannot see. My Lord is with me as I write, He was there through my darkest night. Freedom, you will find is not a place, It will come from a smile on a pretty face. And deep within your soul you will find, Freedom, has always been in your mind. Eight days in a dungeon, my demons and me, T’was torture and torture, to set them free. This from a super lover so kind, Which allows me to finally have, PEACE OF MIND! Ronnie Clark (c) firstname.lastname@example.org
|NEXT:poem of the week---->||| tell a friend about this site|