|
|
|
If I looked back, would I see the past
Or just the present as a jumbled mess
Are the lessons of those days gone by
As clear as I profess them to be to others
Or are they lost in the rubble of the wreckage of my life
Pinned beneath the beams that I knocked down
In my quest for self...
|
Comments [2] - Views [28]
|
|
|
|
Tomorrow, my Julie Unplugged blog plays host to the ReadWritePoem.Org Virtual Book tour and I will be sharing my thoughts and reviewing At Night, the Dead a” darkly delectable poetry collection “ penned by Lisa...
|
Comments [0] - Views [12]
|
|
|
|
©2009, reprinted with permission of Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
A SCENT IN THE WIND
Silently, she stood there,
poised, one long and lanky limb
stretched out, ready to run
or ready to show her...
|
Comments [0] - Views [10]
|
|
|
|
©2009, reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
WILDFLOWER
Disinterred, yet I tarry
where left, forgotten.
Newly bleached,
tendencies to red
now a hint of cold.
...
|
Comments [0] - Views [16]
|
|
|
|
© 2009 Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
LEGACY
"Come, fill the cup!"
the poet said
(I think to Wisdom)
He learned, alone,
he was alone.
And learned in time.
He drank
to the wise
and the unwise too
I drink to him
And...
|
Comments [2] - Views [31]
|
|
|
|
© 2009 Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THE EXCHANGE
You must.
I may?
You must.
I may.
|
Comments [2] - Views [16]
|
|
|
|
© 2009, Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THE SUN
That piece of melted amber
circled by silver,
suspended in the sandy sky,
stayed out of reach,
but no, and no,
not out of touch.
Wails of wind wound
grains of sand and sound
and then pitched,
each one...
|
Comments [0] - Views [15]
|
|
|
|
THIS is one of the reasons why I believe pot should NOT be legalized! This is a true story, written on the lawn of Driltrol Oil Tools in Signal Hill, Ca. There is no way to determine when someone last smoked pot. Could've been 10 minutes or 10 days ago and there ARE people who drive under the...
|
Comments [10] - Views [72]
|
|
|
|
© 2009, Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
IT HAPPENS IN SPRING
It happens in spring,
When leaves,
curled in soft expectation,
cry out to be touched,
coaxed to unfold
to a shy, pale green.
It happens in spring,
When the sun,
in its own new slant,
makes new...
|
Comments [9] - Views [34]
|
|
|
|
© 2009, Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THE KILL
Poised in stillness,
The trembling stillness of wary watching,
And shuddering in known anticipation,
The tiger leaps in the ripeness of time
When the kill, at rest,
Muses his own past vistories
|
Comments [0] - Views [13]
|
|
|
|
© 2009 Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
MASTER
I have sat
on the edge
of my life
with an invisible
referee
alternately daring
and denying
permission
to jump
this way or that?
Perils everywhere
This way?
Or that?
Headlong
I'm...
|
Comments [0] - Views [12]
|
|
|
|
This isn't a NaPoWriMo poem, but came to being from painting and writing in my journal the next day and I believe my burst in poetic productivity is a direct result of writing poetry, consistently, daily - just like writing metrical verse has made free verse so much more sound oriented.... ...
|
Comments [0] - Views [11]
|
|
|
|
This morning’s NaPoWriMo prompt was about searching for words… it actually went something like this…
“Write a poem today about a word trail. Pick a single word and play with its synonyms or mess around with its antonyms. Follow one word to another and...
|
Comments [5] - Views [55]
|
|
|
|
I don't feel like arguing, so here's another poem!
From the Saddle:
It began the night before
The sleeplessness...the anticipation
The wanderlust unfolding at dawn
As the machine awaits my attention
Anxious to be coaxed to life
The delicate thunder filling the air
And now...the...
|
Comments [4] - Views [38]
|
|
|
|
© 2009, Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THERE THEY WERE, THOSE HANDS
There they were, those hands,
grasping a paper,
the paper all billowed out,
and now and then they gave it a shake,
straightening out the words.
There they were, those hands,
wielding a...
|
Comments [8] - Views [32]
|
|
|
|
I put my face over the bowl of cooking oatmeal and the scent that wafted into my soul immediately wrote a poem for me.
Oatmeal scent reached from the pot
to cradle my middle-aged face
and return the wrinkled
roundness to Mrs. Elder's
smooth-Cheek squeezing fingers
My belly...
|
Comments [4] - Views [36]
|
|
|
|
OK..If you like relly good poetry, you should probably go somewhere else!..LOL I do enjoy sharing my work..well, most of it, anyway, so once in awhile, I'll post a piece and see what folks think.
I dont know why these are line spaced this way when I paste, but oh well!
An uneasy feeling...
|
Comments [3] - Views [29]
|
|
|
|
After the recent meltdown on one of my posts, I got to thinking about my writing. My creative writing, that is, and realized I hadn't written any poetry in quite some time. I guess my creativity has been poured into my guitar the last couple of years. Well, when it's there at all, and sometimes...
|
Comments [8] - Views [70]
|
|
|
|
It's cold here in New England where we're tucked close to the sea,
As long as I remember, every year, that's said to me,
"It's going to sleet". "It's going to snow!", "It's going to pelt and hail!",
They listen to the weather, then they pray predictions fail.
I...
|
Comments [1] - Views [23]
|
|
|
|
© 2009, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
AFTER A YEAR
Copper-lidded,
I waken
to
Circles unbegun,
unended,
Rings of sound
no one hears, and
Reality's undulations
Raze the edges
of disinterred dreams.
Compressed...
|
Comments [4] - Views [24]
|
|
|
|
such a burning love
ensures me a wonderful life
which offers constant joy
without a care
with heartfelt warmth
we’re safe and secure
knowing we can be secure
knowing it’s not forbidden love
feeling love’s warmth
gives my life
without a care
so filled with joy...
|
Comments [0] - Views [2]
|
|
|
|
Have you ever been to Sleepy Hollow?
I was at a very old tavern built as it was,
under an ancient oak tree, in time to see
a dark rider on a black horse, what a scare!
Have you ever been to Sleepy Hollow?
I was there for just one night on business.
After...
|
Comments [0] - Views [5]
|
|
|
|
Walking aimlessly through this life
Filled with so much heartache, so much strife
Im so lost within myself now
Theres no other way but down
Already been to my highest point
I guess now it's all low
So many tears stream down my face
You really put me in my place
Took me to...
|
Comments [6] - Views [88]
|
|
|
|
© 2008, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
SEPTEMBER
September's crickets are more insistent now
than the ones in still-remembered August.
They rub out calls in emergency sounds
Knowing,
as we do now,
They must clutch life close
and hold on fast
before the...
|
Comments [8] - Views [18]
|
|
|
|
As my years wind down to moments, the ache
The pull of life at its end, death washes over,
Red, black and icy cold, all sense’s cry
It will not end.
Suddenly a warm golden glow sparkles random
atoms to life, as vista, sounds echo and fill me.
The notes of song, voice a...
|
Comments [1] - Views [29]
|
|
|
|
So anyway I'm new to this whole blogging thing, and I haven't written a blog yet. Today I felt a need to contribute but while I searched my mind to find something clever or interesting to write I was at a loss. So I've chickened out and in lieu of something thought provoking I'm...
|
Comments [19] - Views [94]
|
|
|
|
© 2008, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THE CLOSET
They lie hidden there
in the closet of my life,
Those emotions of my humanity.
No place for them in the light
Because they are dark and deep
And would shock sensibilities
finer than mine.
So they lie...
|
Comments [0] - Views [16]
|
|
|
|
© 2008, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
PRISONER
My prison was one without walls
My unrelenting jailer me
I did not know I lived in there
Till someone set me free
My prison was a dusty one
And cobwebs drifted lazily in my mind
Like a...
|
Comments [2] - Views [10]
|
|
|
|
© 2008, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for author
PATIENCE
Before Time had been flung
upon the faces of clocks,
dry leaves and the sun
marked its passing,
But there was more,
so much more.
There was no beginning or end.
...
|
Comments [0] - Views [18]
|
|
|
|
© 2008, Reprinted by Alicen Jay, nom de plume for the author
THE BAYOU AND I
Heat-lightning punctuated
the crimson of near-sunrise
on my way to the Gulf.
The bayou,
Winding gently with the road,
was lined with shrimp boats
Still sleeping,
Their nets strung
and...
|
Comments [1] - Views [25]
|
|
|
|
Indian Magic
Lost my balance on a low cloud
over the valley that day
And fell by a fire
Built long ago by Indians
Who knew fire, and clouds,
and made them both by magic.
Magic can bring you
to the top again,
Atop the cloud
Made by the...
|
Comments [4] - Views [31]
|
|
|
|
CHARTED LAND
I float encaptured
in my own freedom
under a beheaded sky,
Nerves unnerved
by some Lydian rhythm
(a raking fingernail
across the blackboard backdrop
of blind eyes),
And grope unseeing, unseen,
for boundaries,
those neat squares of existence
thought to be....
|
Comments [0] - Views [35]
|
|
|
|
LEAVES OF LIGHT
It was one of those
crisp, early-summer mornings,
cloudless.
In the distance –
and you could see forever –
leaves sparked lights
from the sun,
each leaf its own light source.
The message was clear:
Summer is here,...
|
Comments [24] - Views [60]
|
|
|
|
Paint in Peace
I paint my way into a pretty little dream
out of pain out of worries away from misery
what’s going on behind the scenes you will never see
I won’t allow my mask to fall to be revealed to all
I smile before I shut the doors
I nod to acknowledge...
|
Comments [5] - Views [57]
|
|
|
|
Bloody Roses
Bloody roses left in vain to some,
but not me.
chained and shackled they remain,
to the flesh without gain.
viewing their hearts is no mystery,
they're just black and grey!
oh search all over and there is no pearl!
their hearts were just dust, blown away.
Gold...
|
Comments [1] - Views [53]
|
|
|
|
What makes The Empty Space unique?
With seven different community theatres in the Bakersfield area alone - not to mention all of the school and professional productions that come to town - it can be tough to keep up with our local theatre scene. And despite the various marketing tactics...
|
Comments [2] - Views [225]
|
|
|
|
Valentine's Day is around the corner and a lot of Bakersfield.com users are pouring their hearts out on our site.
As promoted in The Californian's Eye Street section, we're soliciting love poems from all you prose pros out there. Read a selection of submissions so far, or submit your own....
|
Comments [0] - Views [31]
|
|
|
|
Blessings is a reflection of Christian tradition designed into a contemporary and colorful art print. The image and poetry is ideal for presenting as a gift to anyone in need of encouraging words. Download Free and print with your computer software by visiting the following...
|
Comments [0] - Views [14]
|
|
|
|
Attention poets and wannabe poets: The Californian and Bakersfield.com are looking for a few good love poems to warm us up for Valentines Day.
So what do you have for us? A sonnet? A haiku? A full-on song? Click over to Bakersfield.com/yourwords to submit your poetry. And PLEASE include a...
|
Comments [2] - Views [45]
|
|
|
|
A Maid Before Tapestry
Gregory Clemens
In her sunlit morning room, she reads
again each word on perfect lips too young
to know a sweetheart’s kiss, her only letter from the man.
His words that found her on an afternoon
a full moon ago, she knows
His words...
|
Comments [0] - Views [33]
|
|
|
|
As many of you know, "Highway 99" is the seminal anthology of Valley poets, essayists, fiction and nonfiction writers. Published by Heyday Books's Great Valley Books imprint (with help from the James Irvine Foundation), it's the first book to anthologize the Valley's many accomplished...
|
Comments [0] - Views [18]
|
|
|
|
There's a gorgeous poem by Fresno poet Peter Everwine in this week's New Yorker. It's called "Aubade in Autumn," and it's the October 15, 2007 issue.
Everwine's most recent book of poetry is "From the Meadow: Selected and New Poems." It can be purchased directly from the...
|
Comments [0] - Views [15]
|
|
|
|
The INNER EAR Poetry Jam is a monthly event held at Fresno's Full Circle Brewery. It always takes place the 3rd Thursday evening of the month.
Forwarding this month's event announcement below...
From: bryan medina <freeh2040@yahoo.com>
Subject: Event reminder: The INNER EAR...
|
Comments [0] - Views [11]
|
|
|
|
Cross-posted from valleylitlist@yahoogroups.com
----------
Please distribute to any poets you know. Thanks!
The Philip Levine Prize in Poetry 2007
The Philip Levine Prize in Poetry is open to all poets except current
or former students or faculty of California State University,...
|
Comments [0] - Views [10]
|
|
|
|
For those poets out there..
11th Annual Tuolumne Meadows Poetry Festival
Saturday, August 18th and Sunday, August 19th
Parsons Memorial Lodge, Yosemite National Park
*Featuring one of Central California's finest writers and farmers, David Mas Masumoto, author of "Epitaph for a...
|
Comments [1] - Views [24]
|
|
|
|
http://www.pbs.org/moyers/j...
Again another eclectic evening with Bill Moyers,one that had me laughing while I cried.That is the most effective way to teach harsh subjects~the ones that would either crush our spirit or we turn away from in horror.
First up...
|
Comments [0] - Views [21]
|
|
|
|
It seems the brains of today’s society have been liquefied by television and the internet. Of course I'm one to talk being on this web site. But I'm hopeful that there are still a few literary nuts out there. I was curious as to what people are reading these days, I've found some...
|
Comments [35] - Views [178]
|
|
|
|
Suffering,
Bleeding inside,
Gut wrenching pain,
Won't go away.
Praying,
Hoping for something to take this away.
Crying,
Screaming,
Dying inside
My misery.
|
Comments [4] - Views [52]
|
|
|
|
Calico.3.1.07.carrie
Young and free
How could this happen
You lay there twisted and broken
Eyes wide open to the sun
Copper and beautiful
On hard pavement
To be passed under harder stares
I’ve watched you from my window
Following your mother
Leaping at your shadow...
|
Comments [3] - Views [130]
|
|
|
|
this is rough but important stuff... will someone please follow up by posting happy thanksgiving bunnies or something? does give one pause, i think... there is a lot of work ahead to overcome so many of these things WSB says we should give thanks for...
http://www.youtube.com/v/C7...
|
Comments [1] - Views [174]
|
|
|
1 2
