Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

Tomahawk Man~by Paul F. Lenzi


 

 

Tomahawk Man

poe

Edgar Allan Poe – Image from pinterest.

brooding themes settle
in deep raven inkpots
then spill themselves
rashly on Turkish ambitions
macabre in their telling
morality plays
to the unhearing ears
of beloved young
saltwater tombs
with a bellringer’s voice
degraded through time
beneath rising irony
scathed by vile anecdotes
swarming with rumors
of deviancy finding vent
within acid critiques
until conquered by death
when a rescuing worm
slithered up and devoured
the angelus chorus of
bronze tintinnabulum

 

 

(originally posted May 2013)

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

You Stole My Sunshine~by Nina Grace


 

 

You Stole My Sunshine

Image may contain: one or more people, sunglasses and closeup

You stole my sunshine
And made it into rain,
You took away my smile
And brought me pain.

I had horrid nightmares
Of hell and screams,
You took away my rights
And invaded my dreams.

You threw me back
Against a wall,
Landing violently on
My knees, I did fall.

You poisoned my blood,
Brought tears to my eyes,
Crippled my thoughts
Made me want to die.

But hey man
I don’t give a damn
I finally walked away
To find who I am.

My dreams may come alive
My soul barely there,
I am away from you
Healing my every fear.

You stole my sunshine,
But a rainbow will appear,
Thoughts of you are disappearing
I am finally getting there.

©Nina Grace

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

Westminster Bridge~by Paul F. Lenzi


 

 

Westminster Bridge

west

“Westminster Bridge” by Eva Czarniecka

(Regarding the March 2017 terrorist attack)

 

 

under gaze of the lionheart

safe in bicameral shade

cast by lord and by commoner

here struck despicable acts

an irrational violence

consummate murder most foul

in the name of the nameless

a mind-twisted loving of hatred

that terrifies civilized men

broken bodies elicit our sorrow

while courage refortifies spirits

resolved to stand firmly erect

ever watchful on guard

against incomprehensible

new breeds of threat

with a stiff upper Londoner lip

taking oath to keep carrying on

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

Letter to Adam~by Payal Sunandan


 

 

Letter to Adam

Lying on the moss bank,
pond from fissured rocks,
a fine green day beneath sun rays,
reasoning of embryonic existence,
walks unmeasured and uncontrolled
on the velveteen garden carpeted in
Eden’s grass,
postcards parlayed into letters,
attempted to narrate one,
written in evolutionary fresh breaths,
Eve on her newly found sand patch.

These mountains of regal height,
little ornaments pullulated with smiles,
visited by pairs of flapping wings
planted on archaic flying things,
numerous axioms moving through soil,
tasteless ripples gather around my face
until restored is this shiny lit sphere,
as it all grows darker and darker,
unfurls a megalopolis,
luminous blinks of several golden leaks
sparkled above big sea’s mist.

Substantiated sounds and vistas of
other beings, touched and perceived
with natural instincts,
unassailable myself in your meat-weary
arms, they whispered last night,
we call him man,
I ponder to have seen the corporeality,
noble and beautiful art distinguishably,
eternal vigilance is the price of fear,
since we are only a day old,
I have nonetheless mastered none
but fancied an unknown certain.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

Flying Words~by Hela Tekali


 

 

Flying Words

Where are you flying my words
From the sounds of my ink ,
Come to lie on my papersheet
Color its emptiness with emotion
Hold its musical rhythm with lyrics
Where will you go ?
To the place of the seashore?
To seduce it with Your glamour and lore
Imagine the blue sky calling for you
Holy clouds need to sway
Twittering words becoming small hearts
Sun and Moon watching as twin lovers
Oh! flying words pour your ecstasy on the papersheet
Dance to the rhythm of my heartbeat
Let my empty canvas with love be enthralled bit by bit.

Jenayah Hela
@Spiritual Poetry
Flying Words

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

SILENCE~by Rajendra Padhi


 

 

SILENCE

Image may contain: one or more people and closeup

I sit here
With awful questions,
The red and yellow blossoms
Glisten at me in silence,
Their scent of fresh morning
Perched around me
Throbbing my heart
Stops time in the clock of mind,
I can’t wait till evening
When the answer will spin around,
Find them not there
In the silence of darkness,
There must be a surprise
Between our meeting and parting,
We are left with so many questions
It never ends
Till we return to silence again.

Composed and copy right by Rajendra K. Padhi

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

” FOUR ON THE FLOOR ” # 53~by Michael Patton


 

 

” FOUR ON THE FLOOR ” # 53

I saw your sweet ass from across the room.
I felt my heart going boom, boom, boom.
You look like a fast machine, varoom, varoom.
Let’s take a wild ride in my hotel room.

You look so classy with your hot little chassis.
I want to take you for a spin.
Your bucket seats are a man’s wet dream.
And I can’t wait to slide right in.

Grab hold of my hardcore manual transmission.
Four on the floor and many other positions.
I’ll get your motor so hot your radiator’s hissing.
Ride all of my rides for the price of admission.

We’re grinding gears as we’re grinding our bodies.
Laying rubber on the streets to show everybody.
It’s a long, long road and we just got started.
And I’ll show you roads that aren’t even charted.

I got the right kind of fuel your body needs.
It’s got full octane and a touch of tease.
So grab my handle and give it a squeeze.
And I’ll fill your tank with my gasoline.

Kicking it now into overdrive.
A screaming engine, just my style.
Moaning, groaning, sweating paint.
Dig your tires into my pavement.

This ride ain’t over quite just yet.
A blown out motor don’t get no rest.
My tank still has three-quarters left.
And I ain’t leaving until your motors spent.

Written by
THE PRETZELED POET
Michael Joseph Patton
© 2016

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

This I Know~by Glinjo Glinjo


 

 

This I Know

When you look in the mirror do you see lines? I see wisdom
Do you see pain- I see a survivor
Do you see hurt- I see perseverance
Do you see gray- I see wisdom
Do you see a person alone-I see independence

Sometimes when we add up all the things in our lives
We forget the most important thing
We are blessed

BowDown

GlinjosComing
Gloria TiBi Domine

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

FROZEN IN TIME~by Camilla King


 

 

FROZEN IN TIME

No automatic alt text available.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 23, 2017

Do you know where your parents are?~by rldubour


 

 

Do you know where your parents are?

Image result for Do you know where your parents are?

Today’s parents are never home; they work and play too hard.

The kids are left home all alone; do they know where their parents are?

It’s seems this scene has took a turn, three hundred and sixty degrees.

The parents are much busy, forgetting their children’s needs.

All kids want their parent’s home, especially at night.

With a family sense of security and taught what’s wrong and right.

Someone to look up too, for everyday advice.

To know that they are loved and wanted, morning, noon and night

Children are out special gift to every mom and dad.

We must take time to appreciate just what we do have.

Don’t wait until it is too late and your child has gone astray.

You can only blame yourself for this, you were always gone away.

They are looking to be wanted so some will join a gang.

Looking for approval, their meaning of family sure has changed.

They you wonder, how they got like this and where they did go wrong.

We can not blame the parents; they are never home that long!

Must be their friends that they hooked up with, you are sure of this.

We can not blame the parents, when their kids’ whole life they missed.

Now we have to ask ourselves, are we a little bit self centered?

Were we ready for family life, in which we choose to enter?

If our number one priority is work and having fun.

No wonder we could never see, the damage we have done.

A lot of parents are like this and it really is too bad.

Maybe this is how they grew up, without mother and dad.

Now we have to change all this and the violence in this life.

If you want to play like mom and dad, then learn to play it right!

Today’s parents are never home; they work and play too hard.

The kids are left home all alone; do you know where their parents are?

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