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MOON OVER CAROLINA (May humor contest)

Submitted by scribbler on Wed, 2012-04-11 08:52

On this clear spring afternoon
from my deck off toward the east
I spy a Carolina moon
as pale as sourdough bread yeast

The sky is shared by setting sun
although the sun is in the west
moonrise to east has just begun
as white as any virgin's breast

That moon above a flower bed
just before it's time to sup
leads me to yell at neighbor,"Fred!
Be kind and pull your short pants up!"

*don't blame Me, Barb inspired me with Her moon poem lol

gravity

Submitted by Starlight on Wed, 2012-04-11 08:34

Words spoken to mean nothing
Such a waste of breath

Deep down I know there's something
I can recognize on this earth

Something...
Like you
...being a speck of blue
In my never-ending sky of gray

Yet I can't help but think...

Of the unknown face of the moon

Of the tongue like an angry wave
How easily lies can roll off it.

What is it then, to feel safe?
When they fester so in my head?

So when there is something I can recognize
...
Then...

You can wake me up

Love Lies, Bitter/Sour

Submitted by docmaverick on Wed, 2012-04-11 06:45

Promises with sentiment,
selflessness portrayed;

lustful motives so, hell-bent
with the goal of getting, laid.

Only half with earnest hearts,
the other half don't care;

but, they're the ones throwing the darts,
with such accuracy, it isn't "fair"!

Sorrows coerce, heavy hearts to break
as unions fade away;

bonus points, are what they "fake",
when there's nothing left to say.

Each time-line turns, bitter/sour
sadness, refusing to stop;

Workshop: 
More Meter

Tolerance and worthy intentions

Submitted by Cloudthings on Wed, 2012-04-11 01:47

My deep affection reaches for your heart sometimes
Like a birdsong from a willow
You have batted, distracted, at the delicate intention
Like a bothered youth at summer gnats
And yet there springs more sweet consideration
Tolerance, at least in time
And appreciation further to embed more bonded warmth and comfort
I would offer butterflies of tenderness and trust
Yet you would have less fragile ministrations
We may bestow less concentrated pleasantries at times
And yet in all my understanding, gathered over years

THE AUTHOR IS DEAD

Submitted by t. reflexion on Wed, 2012-04-11 00:35

Letters play zigzag pattern in my head
Like this world in which we come to live in
Poetic talents gifted in diverse ways
Some to follow and others to lead on
As reflected in works of the Congress
On posted poems of teaming multitude
A unique stream dancing before our eyes
Where myriad promising writers grow up

African Untouched Glory

Submitted by Barbara Writes on Tue, 2012-04-10 23:07

In Africa elephants roam freely
grazing open pastures of vegetation
Where white pillows cling to blue skies
Touching a green flush carpet of grassland

Native men dance for future brides
adorned in beautifully printed alfgans
to the tunes of their island women singing
Along the wide open dirt road never ending

One day I hope to vacation Africa's homeland
and enjoy the natural earth in it undeveloped form

Ironies

Submitted by William Saint George on Tue, 2012-04-10 12:40

A gross irony perpetuates
in the surrounding mists
that intrude like rays of night
on a season of blighted hope,
and sundering sense from morality

-Vain goes the fists against the foe
who is not without, nor far in distant hell.
worn is might and wind is turned to woe-

I suck at what I hope to bring to being,
and being is a curse from birth to death.
And even then, ridden with grave lack
that pitches intellect against a divine right;
like a candle sets the mists of night alight

HE HAS ME!!

Submitted by AmmaKonadu on Tue, 2012-04-10 12:33

Once upon a time...
I stood before my one true love
And spat in his face
That heart-breaking cliche
..."It's over between us"...
Yet in that moment, he loved me.

Many turns back when I packed up my bags
And moved out of that Mansion he gave me
Acting out in ways worse than words
Saying...
"I met someone else"...
All through it, he loved me.

Archon dionsyia

Submitted by Esker on Tue, 2012-04-10 08:28

mists fall
t he cry of birds
the silence of the city walls

even the great voice of
the sea is hesitant
and murmurs dreams

and a crown leans
as the world
listens

It Darkened Daylight

Submitted by judyanne on Tue, 2012-04-10 06:33

 

What would I see if riding on a light-beam?

A bi-dimensional plane, or a geometric point?

I'd view the universe's wondrous mysteries agleam

and know the very blueprint of the Ancient One's own thought

 

Deliberation led to a great insight -

the formula that Albert Einstein shared

by linking energy and mass and light

-- now so well known - e equals m c squared

 

~~~~~~

 

The powerful ignition darkened daylight

then morphed into a deep eternal scream

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