contemporary poetry

Coming Ready or Not

POSTED IN contemporary poetry May 4, 2014

Coming Ready or Not

“I’m coming ready or not”, you call;
I scramble one last time,
To find a dark secluded spot
That I can claim as mine.

The time for hiding’s over
Yet I’ll play this game awhile,
I’ll let you come and find me
And greet you with a smile.

Come and get me, if you please
I’m ready for you now,
I’ve longed for you to find me
Just no one told me how.

How to find you with my heart
My eyes have blinded me.
It’s taken me so many years
But now I truly see.

copyright 2014 Mandy Edwards

Dreams That You Dare To Dream

POSTED IN contemporary poetry May 1, 2014

Dreams That You Dare To Dream

Once in a place in a far away time
Inside a space from where grew perfect rhyme
Beyond the realms of a blink and a sigh
A poetess grew wings and took to the sky

In to the sky like an eagle she flew
Above cloud cover still heavy with dew
Beyond the stars giving way to the morn
On wings rose tinged with the blush of the dawn

Setting her sights on the edge of the world
Steering her course as her karma unfurled
Out of the darkness and into the light
Out of the dreams that were guiding her flight

High above oceans and rivers and ranges
Safely away from all possible dangers
Driven by powers once quietly sleeping
Looking for him with her heart in his keeping

There in the distance she saw the rainbow
Colours more brilliant than seen from below
Stunned by its beauty she paused in her flight
Just for a moment to bathe in its light

Slowly with care through the colours she flew
Finding those bluebirds and skies always blue
As she looked down from her heavenly high
She saw land once heard in a lullaby

Knowing her journey was now at an end
Wings barely moving began to descend
Closing her eyes as her feet touched the ground
The edge of the world she had finally found

He came up behind her, no longer a myth
The one she had flown across time to be with
He turned her towards him and tilted her chin
Then lowered his mouth and took her soul within

Wrapped in the cloak of his loving they walked
Through quiet moments together they talked
Finally united to never more part
Home was the poetess, Home with her heart.

from Wanda’s page

Wanda Kiel Rapana

Land Of My Birth

POSTED IN contemporary poetry May 1, 2014

Land Of My Birth

Oh Mississippi, my beloved Mississippi
How I long to bathe in your dark rich soil
Where my life was spent in great toil

How you dare to say can I feel this way
This place that brought me such pain
Labelled by slavery, cruelty, and shame

In the Delta’s belly we were thus conceived
Breed like animals because of others greed
Compensated by death for our sweat & toil
My ancestors’ blood fertilizes the rich soil

Oh Mississippi, my beloved Mississippi
Labels shan’t cover your Magnolia trees
Or the sisterhood created from your seeds

The cruelty of men shan’t dim your beauty
It is the blind I fear that refused to see
That Mississippi is an integral part of me

Though the master’s whip plotted my course
And I borne him brown babies to till his fields
I cleaned his house & breast fed his young
And by his hands our children were hung

Oh Mississippi, my beloved Mississippi
You are my mysterious womb of birth
Every mother knows labor pains hurt

How can I not understand your worth
My heart is planted deep within the soul
Of a sisterhood more valuable than gold

Oh my beloved Mississippi, Mississippi
I am not blind to your natural treasures
Even if men cruelty is still raging strong
It’s to you I yearn to come back home

Copyright

12 / 28 /05 – 1 / 02 / 06 Linda Jones Malonson

Springtime

POSTED IN contemporary poetry April 30, 2014

Springtime

A hoary old man, winter lingers, untill
he grows tired and relents, he gives way
to Lady Spring. She yawns and stretches
to longer light, the sweet air of spring
kisses winter and waves him goodbye.

She wears a new dress and recites poetry.
From southern oceans her zephyr blows
breathes new life into naked trees: bursts
dormant sticky buds and opens translucent
green leaves, adorns cherry apple and pear.

A spring bride, in her train, fragile blossom
forms many tiny fruitlets. The Forsythia
spreads rays of sunshine. The frogs, free
from hybernation, wrestle in the pond
an orgy, on which their survival depends .

When V skeins of geese fly honking towards
Romney marsh my heart greets Lady Spring
The ladybirds settle like tiny red blisters
on the fertility of a flourishing nettle patch.
The proud cock pheasant swaggers down

the lane, a drab hen bouquet in his wake.
The ra-ta-tat-tat… of woodpecker’s verve,
echoes percussion over gently undulating
green hills, where lambs gambol, the ewes
chew grass, while two llamas stand guard.

A farmer plants seeds trusts in summer sun,
autumns harvest.Spring dances in our hearts.

Gael Bage

In the valley of names

POSTED IN contemporary poetry April 1, 2014

In the valley of names

My names haunt me.
All the history,
all the connected lives,
gypsies and witches,
kings and sailors,
criminals, peasants and warriors
All the friendships,
foes and lovers.
Every syllable
an ancient inspiration,
a prison,
a poison,
a reviving breath
in the valley of names.

Garnet Shaw Robbie

City Rhythm

POSTED IN contemporary poetry March 28, 2014

City Rhythm

Where is the rhythm in this city,
The heartbeat rule in every step
Where individuality fades
Into our common identity,
The single beat that binds us, yet
Is for us an empowering aide
Saving us in its security,
Releasing us from that fisher’s net
That tightens with each coin paid?

This rhythmless meandering roar,
This awkward cadence, disturbs my peace
Like unpredictable arguments
That rise in an apartment next door
Jolting you each time you fall asleep
Reminding you that life is torment
And that recourse to the civil court
Only adds to the discordant heap
Of rising civil defoliant.

I want rhythm like a prisoned man
Yearns an end to his imprisonment,
To carry his claim to dignity,
Who simply longs to take a noble stand
And live a life of calm contentment,
Shake his neighbour’s hand in amity,
Walk in open space on a safe land
Where there are no horns or whistles sent
Lauding his inferiority.

Garnet Shaw Robbie

Hail Poetry Slave

POSTED IN contemporary poetry March 12, 2014

















Hail Poetry Slave
 
Hail thou poetry slave, rose from dust and ash.
Armageddon's passed, rush now from the Cave
In phoenix flight; fly; flee this mortal caste.
Lift your wings of light, o'er this shadowed grave -
 
Parched, bleached of colour, hues that once held fast
Over man and age, over kingdoms brave,
Even til their breath left them at long last,
Turning back to sand. In their dying gave
Reason to rejoice, birth from that life past;
Yesterdays illusions finally frayed.
 
Sincere is the blood of the now outcast.
Love tends its tender saplings in this day
Atop mountain heights laved in Sunlight vast.
Verses do recount and sages do say:
Each of us receive; each is called to task.
 


Garnet Shaw Robbie

Oneness

POSTED IN contemporary poetry March 10, 2014

Constellations

POSTED IN contemporary poetry March 10, 2014

Constellations

        I

        Heavenly constellations
        written ‘cross the sky
        speaking a language of light



        II

        This, who I am that you see
        is as old as you
        beginning as time began



        III

        Be patient, sincere and wise
        befitting a man
        in possessing your proper share



     Garnet Shaw Robbie

Prisoners

POSTED IN contemporary poetry March 10, 2014