Poetry

Poetry

  •  Fourteen – Lynette
  •  Hoboville – Paul Beethovan
  •  Untitled – Roger Houston
  •  Peace Is My Religion – Hal Bogotch
  •  Moment – Ronald K. McKinley
  •  Gravity – Jim Smith
  • Ibrahim and his band – Rex Butters
——————————————-
 
Fourteen
 
Smooth childlike visage,
Distant eyes,
Submerged in the intense dreams of adolescence,
Innocence…
 
She walks mature — and sensual,
Wispy feminine body sways with secret defiance,
A proud little woman’s stroll,
She played the game,
Loss of childhood…
 
Beneath a fold of soft young skin,
Torn flesh,
She hoards her bleeding medal with rehearsed modesty,
Tells her hundred friends,
Excited child-woman…
 
A face shining with premature sophistication,
Eyes sparkle hungrily,
Knowing smile,
Resting her curly mane on a firm, muscular shoulder,
She plays the game once more,
Fourteen…
 
–Lynette
 
 ———-
 
Hoboville
 
In Hoboville, one pack
Of cigarettes, soap and 2 beers
Are issued to each
Person arriving here!
No ordinary town – 
Pretty women flirt and 
Everyone smiles as Love Abounds.
Hoboville may not be real
But if everyone had it
In their heart I’m sure
This world would be a 
Better place to live!
 
– Paul Beethovan

—————

17:34 Monday February 20, 2012…..The fading glow beyond the windowpane Is also known as twilight. They are twain; Identical; the same; the two are one, As this side slowly turns out of the sun. Such darkness fills the room. On goes a light. My pen had lost his way. On comes the night, Tsunami of immersion, covering A host of glaring errors. Beckoning For me to venture out, to find delight In blessing littered sidewalks, where one might Go wandering, my skateboard shoes may run Deserted alleys, where a soul is prone To most likely avoid. I entertain This notion for a moment: back, again….. Roger Houston, Venezia forever

———–

Peace Is My Religion
 
Ah, what a world!
Unity and love
shine like the sun
from within.
The heartwarming breath
of lovingkindness
surrounds us
envelops us
is us.
 
–Hal Bogotch
 
 ———–
 
Moment
 
By Ronald K. Mc Kinley 
 
What knowing can not adjust
The healing molded to my knowledge
Pain of the moment
My mother’s womb tilted
Light is a wave and a particle
What have I learned
The product of many failures
I repeat the spill and rill
Dressed to evolve
Put on the plasma
On and on it goes
The passing of stars
The birth of ideas
Why cast out demons
You know them
Marked by time and absent love
The place for phase-shifted enlightenment
My words some my own
Listed by fear and sorrow
Marked the crunch and the beginning
My push powered by desperation
Food for the time
The breath of will
The lensing of my soul
Sent byte by byte
By constant tension
When I think I do not act
When I act I do not think
I come to the middle of the end
Flesh to flesh
Ego to ego
Tears sweet wash my focus compose my loss
Why is it the what and the where
Prompt on my missteps
It is never over
Only recycled used by wishing
I eat when hungry rest when tired
Cry when sad love when unloved
The beast is caged not tamed
Music and other felt flames fan
Holes in my skin let others in
And I can not get out
 
 ————
 
Gravity
 
By Jim Smith
 
They say that even a small ship
positioned near an asteroid 
can move it ever so slightly
but enough to avoid the Earth.
 
Is it also true in human affairs?
Can a person move a community,
a country, or just another person
enough to cause a better outcome?
 
Are you just riding the asteroid
wherever it may take you?
Or are you using your gravity
to nudge us to a better world?

———–

Ibrahim and his band
By Rex Butters
I sit on the smooth tile
face of Abbott Kinney
Ibrahim’s band slams
sticky beat deep thoughts
changes brains and entertains
  maneuvers a boardwalk peace tank
  splatter paint peace sign amplifiers    
 line the asphalt
 drive the beat into the feet
 of walkers momentarily given
 to conform to the rhyth
 Ibrahim Shaman sermonizing on the mic
 bass riff inches along
 catch and sweeten the beat
 youtube hopefuls dance for $1
 asphalt boardwalkers
 adjust their gaits
 to the Afro-Venice groove
 ambulation rhythm    
 white marine layer puffs roll slowly
warm sun/cool breeze
gulls slide veering between
gangly unmanicured
slow swaying palm trees
 three pelicans fly over too high
 to be noticed by walking    
     ground watchers
 Ibrahim and his band
spin it all into smoldering riff
 hotter than the sun 
    but still part of i
 this perfect SoCal day plays    
      Ibrahim and his band
    revealing the sound of life
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Categories: Poetry

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