NEW
A poem is a butterfly,
thoughts growing in a cocoon.
‘Till ready for the right time,
to bust loose in its entirety.
The beauty that is within
will be discovered
only by the one who dares to look
at the potential it posses.
Kevin Frost
A Fantasy of Glass
A fantasy is like a glass
It sparkles in the morning light
As the sun goes down it glows in the moons sight
It’s up to you to fill it
When you do, it has a different sound
Don’t be careless with it or it will smash on the ground
Be cautious when you try to pick it up
For broken glass is sharp and you might be cut!
Jesse Merrill
Lady Black
Life is a picture,
of an old lady wearing a black dress,
saddened by death.
She’s a wrinkled woman of many years.
The black dress has lasted generations,
sown up with brown twine.
She stares ahead into the blackened foreground.
Her frail, white hair, frizzy and held down by a white bonnet.
Her eyes still staring,
her frowning mouth,
tell the world her sadness.
Many a times she has worn this dress.
Every time the dress seemed to get blacker.
A frown devoured her smile,
the wrinkles consumed her face.
The old lady leaves the picture as if she’s flown away,
leaving a chair behind and a black foreground.
It’s another person’s turn to wear the black dress.
Amanda Cyr
Who Turned Off the Light?
My thoughts are an amusement park
noisy and lighted, when I’m in the dark
They buy cotton candy, they ride the ferris wheel
Go ahead now!
round and round you must go
until you have completed your tasks
When they are done they leave the park
Thoughtless and empty I stand in the dark
with a ticket stub folded in half
tucked in my pocket
The park is now empty, forgotten, dismissed
but because of the ticket, the night will be missed
Always save souvenirs
sometimes they’re the only memories we have
-P.Q. (Pat Quinn)
“ Is” Poems
The Holocaust is like an uncontrollable thunder storm.
Every drop of rain is like another innocent Jewish life being terminated.
Every frightening clap of thunder is like the terror in the eyes of every Nazi.
The furious blow of wind is like the liquidation periods during the Holocaust.
this is the Holocaust, a rumbling storm without any cure or signal of stopping.
Love is like a complex maze that everyone must solve in their lives.
Your heart is like a tangled phone line, a pain to unravel.
Your body is tied in knots, ready to be untied at any loving moment.
Your mind is like a marathon runner, with a confusion and compassion.
How can I solve a problem like this you say ?
I did and soon in your life it will be your time to solve the maze called love.
Rodney Brown, Jr.
AUTHORITY’S LURE
Power is a wave.
It starts out small, quiet, unnoticed.
Then it begins to grow,
and it draws attention.
Now it is out in the open for all to see.
It beckons to those who would desire it.
“Come and get me.”
And they come.
They paddle out
on their newly polished boards.
They slowly rise up
as their confidence grows.
They ride the wave,
and it is euphoric.
But the wave grows too big,
and they are plunged into the water.
They try to break free,
but the current seizes their bodies.
They lose all control over their fate
as they are consumed by the wave.
They are the latest victims of authority’s lure.
John Haberzetl
Hate is a seed, planted inside your heart
Sprouting from deep within a foreboding forest
The long dry branches reach out, grab you by the arms
Calling to you, asking you to aid them
In feeding the ever burning fire
To keep piling the logs on, urging the flames to leap higher and higher
The dead leaves cast shadows over your face
Making you no different than the others
The same as the ones you hate
This seed grows and grows
Until it no longer is a seed
But the tree of hate that stemmed from that seed.
The brain is a blank piece of paper
Just sitting there, waiting to be filled
Filled with the knowledge
You take in each day
Adding new wrinkles and creases
With each new concept learned
Empty space you hold inside
Carrying it with you forever
Without it you’d surely perish
It holds the strings
The very keys that unlock the door to your life
Holding secrets that only you may know
And with it, you can do anything
It is just the beginning, a starting place
To a world filled with endless possibilities.
Amy Parker
Depression Is Poem
Suicide is a valley
The valley of loss and confusion
It keeps getting lower and lower
The lower elevation is the lowest point you’ve reached in life
It seems there’s no way out, no where to turn
It’s not knowing what to do
It’s dark
The darkness is when everything in life goes from being in color to
being in black and white
It’s dreary
The dearyness is not caring what you look like or what you do
It’s cold
The coldness is feeling all alone with nobody to turn to
It seems nobody else is down there, you’re all alone surrounded only by thoughts
Thoughts of not knowing how to get out, what to do, or how to get back to civilization
Then you realize that there’s nothing you can do
There’s no way to get out of this valley and back to higher elevations
The thoughts are mind boggling there’s no way to turn
There’s nothing to do, your life is over
You haven’t gone higher out of this valley, yet you ‘ve gone lower.
Free Choice Is Poem
Love is an endless elevator ride
You have your ups and downs
Each floor is a new relationship
The higher up you go represents the most love you have during your relationship
The lower you go represents the smallest amount of love you have during your relationship
The buttons on the control panel are the little fights, problems,
and disagreements that come along the way
The lights represents the brightness that love brings to a person
The emergency phone is when you have no where to turn and you
don’t know what to do
Are you loosing your love for that special someone, is it going away?
Then you realize that the ride has stopped and yes, the love is gone.
Beth Cole
Poems
Poems are like torturer
they eat at the inside of me
clawing lake a rabid animal
eating and mangling my sides
there is also the
mack truck that slams
into my brain at 100 MPH
over and over until
I start to write
David Gary
Is Poem #1
Jobs are a shoe store filled with many different shoes.
You never know which one will fit you until you try them on.
There are big ones, little ones, and hard ones.
Some are already broken in.
They come in all shapes and sizes.
Sometimes they need to be laced or put together,
but in the end you can always find one that fits you.
Is Poem #2
The long march in the book Night is a test of faith,
the will and drive to survive.
It’s the pounding of your feet and the cramping of your legs.
It is the need to see another day.
It’s the fear of falling behind.
The pain of frost bite and gun shots to the slow.
It’s the crying of the kids and the desire to stay up with your beloved father.
The blood that drips from the wounds of the soul and the flesh that freezes in the snow.
It is the care for life.
Is Poem #3
Stress is a traffic jam backed up for miles over a bridge.
You just keep looking but can never see the beginning or what caused it.
It’s the frustration and feeling of not going anywhere, of not moving.
It’s the slowness of life in an up-tempo paced world.
Greg Kimball
Happiness Is...
Happiness is the sun,
weaving her silk of gold on the horizon,
like a gift, wrapped in lavender and emerald
that melts away into deep cobalt blue.
It is that moment which is achievable for only a second
and then flutters away, like a caged bird
set to freedom.
There it hides, just below our vantage point, waiting
for the deepest black of night to come so it can spring forth
momentarily spreading its warmth into our lives once again.
Jen Grant
Life are the rocks
that are under the ground
the coal, the fossils, the rawness of life
but if you apply enough pressure
distress
and agony
you acquire the reality
the diamonds and the unknown
of life
Trust is the zipper
on a jacket, shirt or jeans
if the zipper breaks
the clothing is ruined
but sometimes momentarily
cause when a little effort is put in
to both sides
the zipper can be mended
Cary Larochelle
Is Poems
Sadness – The Depression
Sadness
Sadness is a shadow that follows you around
It is the shadow that fills your mind and heart
as you sit in the dark room with no heat or light
It is the sight of people roaming along the streets looking for a job
It is getting up every day knowing that you and your family
will have to scrounge around looking for a few cents to buy food of a loaf of bread
Sadness is not wanting to walk out the front door
for fear of what may happen in the hours to come.
Sadness is looking out the window into a dreary wet day
Sadness is the fear that you feel in the pit of your stomach
when your child says to you, “ I am hungry.”
And there is nothing you can do about it.
Kate Thompson
Is Poems
Love
Love is a stereo.
You can turn the knobs of a stereo like you can turn the fate of your love.
You can twist the wires like you can twist your feelings.
You can make electricity run through the stereo and give it life like
you can have blood pumping at the hint of their breath.
It’s the button you can use to turn it on and off.
Depending on the owner, it can be loud or soft.
The Great Depression
Poverty is like a hill.
It goes up and down.
There are bumps and grinds along the way.
It can be steep or flat. Tall or short.
It develops over time, never in an instant.
It can be covered in flowers, or overrun by rocks.
Once you fall, you won’t get back up until it’s over.
Kim Zannini
Pain
Pain is the annoying neighbor
That comes over every so often
And is very hard to get rid of.
You could say that you want to take a nap,
but they won’t go away.
They keep talking to you even though,
You’re in bed with your eyes closed,
trying to ignore them.
That doesn’t work so you try another method.
Running away from them, it,
But it stays with you,
Chasing you because they don’t want to leave.
The frustration wells up inside you,
Causing the pain to react and become worse.
It takes a while but eventually,
the pain gets board with you and makes it way to the door.
But not until it has completely drained you of all energy.
And the puzzlement of,
Why it couldn’t have gotten board earlier?
Laura Bernier
Is Poem:
Friendship
Friendship is like a flower...
it blooms at full growth
and those who stumble upon it...
grow strong roots and stems of hope
Friendships come in many different types:
wildflowers growing in fields
long stem roses in delicate glass vases
a garden full of colors beautiful to the eye
Friendship is a song...
it can be heard in many different forms
in branches of trees high above
the tune of an instrument
the sound of a beautiful voice
I’ll sing the melody...
you take the harmony
together we’ll make a song
Friendship is a wind...
it can blow things apart and take them away
some hold on tight and pray not to be left alone...
others let go freely looking for something new
it can wake you and surprise you...
let’s you feel safe at home
One can only plant their roots...
take care...
watch them grow
For songs go out of tune...
leave you sad...
and confused
Yet tomorrow brings new winds...
which always brings you something new
Is Poem:
Sadness
Sadness is a fire...
it starts very slowly and builds
the sound snaps and crackles...
a warning for those to near
it becomes hot and warms those it touches...
turns everything that’s outside cold
devours you...
leaves you in solitude
Sadness is a leak...
that over time has been forgotten
it begins as tiny drops...
that slowly make a larger puddle
over time the drops speed faster...
and out of your control
leaves you overwhelmed...
with troubles you can not handle
Sadness is a garden...
it comes in many different types
it can be soft and smooth...
like a tomato
sting harsh like bullets...
from a mouth of a loved one
become full and flourish...
grow weak then disappear
in the end leave the grower happy...
or maybe depressed and bitter
Sadness can isolate you...
leave you alone to wonder
but sadness in only for a short time
in the end you’ll get over it.
Nicole Rozanski
depression is an ocean riptide,
with each tide that comes in it pulls you deeper into the dark unknown
your at it’s mercy, and praying that soon it will be over
you wonder if this time, this time is your last,
you won’t survive
you struggle to breathe
to stay afloat with each stroke you make to get out,
it holds you there.
it taunts you letting you think you have a chance,
and right when you think you do
it laughs at you,
it laughs and pulls you deeper and deeper
finally when you give up all hope and begin to sink you see a hand
you think this hand is one that will help you,
so you use all your strength to grab it and let it pull you out,
and you know somehow, someway you will survive.
love is a roller coaster
your afraid to get on,
but know if you don’t you’ll regret it later
As it starts to move,
the knots in your stomach grow larger and larger
you turn to look, to see what you left behind you,
you know you’ll never be the same,
and for a split second
- twila adams
A monstrous earthquake,
The quiver of a million bodies
all at once.
A tornado ravaging through
an invisible wall.
The silent death of thousands
being carried upon the wind.
A mass funeral
Millions of tiny kites,
lost strings and jaded owners.
A huge wave of air
Then silence
as thousands more detach themselves
from life.
A boat race
through the rain, the first one to the ground
wins.
The prize?
The chance to live before
death.
A tree
standing bare and alone
A graveyard spread about it’s roots.
The memory
of summer days gone by.
?????