Again

Again Water protests Rain like ugly masses Pounding grass in angry turmoil In May. JO's Blog

My Kind Of Problem

The kind of problems I have to face
are problems of conflict like the whole human race.
Problems quite large, that fall from afar
Share my problems

Word Catalyst Publishes Chapbook

Click on the cover for more info.

Check out Scot's latest poem, A Beer With Bukowski

Breakers

The mood rose and fell in gray unruly waves. The dreamless sleep broken by the drip from the tap, more

On The Outskirts Of Love

Love just needs a face sometimes So baby come on over tonight and let my night ballad sing you there where desire ... entire poem

sorry for the wrong link, it's been corrected now :)

Stone Age Politics

I'm quite adept at throwing stones
as a part of each attack.
My enemy is battered, bruised
Please continue reading Stone Age Politics.

Glass People

The glass people live on the dark side of the Moon and they ring when struck by photons. more...

Memorial Day

Three hundred fifty And fourteen Days to wait for this One time a year To lay down our pencils And remember those Who lay down their lives

Refraction

we are
empty promises
and grudges long gone
made from gray paper
and broken coin jars
we are sitting in the corner
and we’re waiting for home
waiting for the night
that we don’t spend all alone

A waterfall of

ashes

crash against my skin

Read more at The Shore of My Dreams

Peace among Men in Siwa Oasis

Everything we need is here. There is water, both salty and sweet. more

Glimmer

we ground to dust
what we found in your room
when your late-night lust
made bathrooms into ballrooms
your gown was ripped
but we sold it for two beers
and a pack of cigarettes
candles in the aftermath

Writing Home

He sits with a blank postcard The guys are all right but I hate the weather We shelled another town today more

shoe shine man

smeared
black wax
on empty shoes.

zombie
just arrived
dirty clumping steps. more

Singly

though our fathers let us know
just how tall it grows
we could never climb it
we planted seeds
magic weeds
and let our spirits flow

Whispering Secrets

I walk my heart gathering bits of sun.
Lacy trees sway their limbs in swift hello
while I pleasure in this world of just one
adrift in flower sea orange yellow.

Bird songs drift by on breezes soft yet warm,
air ballerinas twirling on tip toe. ...more

Like Every Day

I'm back to square one
just like before.
Opportunity knocks,
I open the door.

Pleading

Pleading
Petulant red tears
Prayer lightning, turbulent skies
Petals exuberant
Poised to obscure a rose's face
Passing by with quiet secrets
Possessed.

JO Blog

A mother’s love knows no bounds…or is that boundries?

By now, I’m sure you’ve heard about the crazy mom in Missouri (talk about the ’show me’ state) who set up a fake MySpace profile in order to torment her teen daughter’s rival. Mom decided that the best way to help her daughter negotiate the tricky waters of teenage angst and the pressures of puberty was to assume a fake identity as a ‘hot guy’ in order to then send harassing and humiliating messages to a young 13-year-old girl. The victim of this vitriol became so distraught she ended up committing suicide. Talk about socializing bad behavior. Life lessons to include clever ways to employ lying, cheating, intimidation and dirty tricks to get what you want — I guess mom just wanted to be sure that her daughter had all the proper skills needed to lead a successful adult life. If you somehow missed this sordid piece of Americana, please read on… MySpace Hoaxer Indicted in Teen Suicide Case A 49-year-old Missouri woman accused of pretending to be a love-struck teenage boy on News Corp.’s MySpace and driving a 13-year-old girl to suicide with cruel messages is being indicted on federal charges. Social-networking sites are under pressure to crack down on cyber-bullying. http://www.reuters.com/article/internetNews/idUSN1531758020080516 originally posted at: http://www.davidrheins.wordpress.com

Vacuum

Stars defined by color, shape, and size
twinkle like one million eyes
they shatter, shiver, blindly
in our way, we live, and still it hurts

Read Scot's Bukowski Could Never Be a Haiku click here

Rainy

Rainy
Spring days awash
Rushing on swift currents
Before drying out dreamy thoughts
Indoors. ... JO's Blog

Crows And Pecks

Early morn' the rooster crows.
"Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?
It's Saturday, you big dumb bird,
be quiet, don't make a peep!"
But the rooster... Click on either rooster to read the rest.

Visions

the wanton twinklings of this sidewalk
like blindspots in my mind
eyes turned to the sky

Zipingku Dam

Zipingpu Reservoir is full of tears and the dam is cracking.

Historic Haiku

A Haiku for you,
a Haiku for me--
Read this tiny, tiny poem.

Stories

EVER WONDERED, ABOUT ALL THOSE STORIES, POEMS, ARTICLES, THOUGHTS, FEELINGS IDEAS BILLIONS AND TRILIONS OF THEM ALL OVER THE WORLD THAT NEVER GOT TRANSALATED INTO PRINT AT ALL…? 2oo metaphors Broken lines Word choices Scattered Messy offices And baskets filled with paper Torn and crushed Tears Empty pens Fingers stained blue black Green and red with blood Spent Sweat washed Saltily down the drain With hopes and dreams Flashbulbs That never came World of a writer Poet Poetess Spurned rejected Volumes of language never Ever published. LIKE IT? HATE IT? VISIT MY BLOG AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK- www.ayeshathom.blogspot.com

Morning Walk

Birds chirp
in glass twinkles.
Dew-drenched droplets raining
In music to soothe my poor soul
with song.

JO's Blog

Thoughts in a graveyard

In a shaded field above a quiet town, Forgotten stones stand askew amid Unkempt grass and overhanging trees. [more]

Little Birds

The time has come
when all your eggs
have hatched, and left the nest.
They all have feathers, everyone,
though different from the rest.
They fly about so far from home,
but they’ll find their way back.
They gather now to sing for you
so glad they all are back.

Please continue reading my Mother's Day Poem.

Sun Remarkable

Sun remarkable,
how like a god your brilliance.
Mystery of life,
Light incomprehensible,
Burning sphere who would be king.

JO's Blog

Lucas

"...A dead Lucas was a salty farm. A bright Lucas, sweaty midnight..." Lucas @ Bad Silhouette.blogspot.com

Dream

Her hair is tightly wound, drawn into a bun at the back of her head- twenty bob-pins and a little gel. She is wearing a black, low-back swimsuit and white tights. And ballerina shoes of course. As we watch, she lifts her arms, slowly, softly…and then she is dancing, twirling, bending, an ecstasy of movement, so purely beautiful. The auditorium is so quiet; you can hear her arms cutting through the air, a whoosh as she spins- it is as if the air is moving with her, jumping here, falling there, flowing around her…you can almost- just almost- see it. The light is cold, white, single, drawing patterns on her black skin, her feet as light as feathers, her eyes closed- iris pulsing beneath. And yet, she radiates heat, those sitting closest, like me, are already sweating. The curve of her back, black, babelicious. A gasp as she stops, frozen in mid-step, and begins to shimmer. At first we think it is our own eyes that deceive us, then blame it on faulty lighting- but no. She is shimmering. Like gossamer, blue oil on water, silk threads in a Cinderella dress… she shimmers. Back flip, she’s solid again, bowing, turning, a hint of a smile on her lips- a private joke with herself. Nobody claps. We just stare- immobile- her fingers pat out a tune in the air- absentmindedly, distracted, her hair is slowly beginning to come undone, her skin glowing, radiating something akin to light but not the same. And then she’s gone. An empty, soundless stage. As if she were never there at all. Like it? Hate it? Give me feedback!! Post a comment and let me know what you think. Visit my blog at www.ayeshathom.blogspot.com I'd love to hear from you!

Graffiti

Many years ago, In a far-away town: I can see you. [more]

Reality

Reality, that thing that lies before me,
that thing I cannot grasp--
a lie I once believed
Get a dose of reality.

Outside/inside

Are you really waiting For a chance to speak, Or simply biding your time? [more]

Racehorses

Rainbow-arrayed vests
at ease while sleek-legged mounts
scratch hooves on rough grass
while groaning rhythmic drum beats
twisted round pent-up fury.

JO's Blog

Here I stand

my hands empty

You can read the rest of this at The Shores of My Dreams

The Almost Complete Ballad Of Tommy Houston

Inspired by the adult works of Shel Silverstein, Tommy Houston was the most notorious outlaw to ever roam the face of the earth. He murdered his first man when he was only 3 years old and was feared by the devil himself. For the first time ever, all 4 parts of the Ballad Of Tommy Houston are presented together for all to enjoy. Warning: Contains graphic content. Follow the link to read The Ballad of Tommy Houston in its entirety.

Whispers

Nature hymns
Dabbing in soft hues
Brush branches
Whispering
Respectful words befitting
A Sanctuary.

JO's Blog

Set the Stage

There are still dark patches
and painful pieces I can't fix.
That contrast builds the scene,
and its stark blacks and whites
are surprisingly and unbelievably
lovely.
She taps my shoulder;
reminds me of something
that she has just learned herself—
No one wants to
hear the highlights
without the crashing lows.
...read the rest at www.Kelley-Online.com

The Swan

Queenly white
Evening procession
Head held high
Befitting
A rare gem on blue waters
Softly gliding home.

JO's Blog