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MM's Represented Poems for 2009, Best of luck! |
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Jan 2 09, 07:35
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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JANUARY SELECTIONS:
SONNET 73 Paraphrased by Ronald Jones
The fall of autumn leaves, denuding trees, Regales in crispy crackling song-like sound. A crunching tune arising 'round my knees From boughs where boist'rous birds of song were found... The price I pay is youthful years now passed, For like their way, I too, have served my time And so accept the years I have amassed. Those waning rays, now set, forswear my prime. But still in me, you see a spark, a glow, Though ashes stifle embers, I'm still warm! So let me crunch and crackle, you must know We all return from whence we came, in form. Let love abide, despite my dimming light, And then, as darkness comes, my midnight's bright.
Late Snow by Larry D. Jennings
Emerging from my chrysalis, I see the face of Winter’s crystal tressed milieu abiding still. Her breath confronting me; instead of flower petals washed in dew.
Something’s awry, for Nature’s call was clear. “Emerge and go into a springtime’s youth!”, away from prison chambers, which adhere to limbs, still barren; gnawed by icy tooth.
I sense no respite near. With these furled wings, a flight to other climes is not a choice. Rime covered now from chilling wind which sings my dirge. Life’s verdict read without a voice.
Upon the silv’ry shroud from fate’s wry hand lies death, a rainbow frozen in time’s sand.
December Streetwalkers by Eric Linden
December darkness nibbles bits of day until there’s hardly any left, it seems, at least not much. Ice covered ponds and streams are Meccas for both young and old to play a game of shinny. Children on their sleighs go hurdling down embankments – mortal screams, as off they spill into a drift. Two teams in forts let snowballs fly each other’s way.
Electric lights in rainbow-colored hues adorn the busy city streets and stores where shoppers bustle back and forth, like bees. And everywhere you look, each avenue has yards and homes alit in bright decors; wreaths hang on doors, garlands on leafless trees.
It’s almost solstice time. How woeful nights appear to one misguided, tortured soul who works nocturnal downtown streets where lights, like bright electric stardrops, hang from pole to pole, aglitter in December air.
A speaker somewhere overhead blares out What Child is This, then Jingle Bells. “Who cares?” she thinks, and moves away. “It’s all about the mighty buck today, which I ain’t got and by the looks of things, I’ll never get.”
Salvation Army bells. Their plastic pots hold hope that expectations can be met and no-one goes off hungry at this time. Each contribution helps – five dollars or a dime.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Feb 12 09, 10:11
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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FEBRUARY SELECTIONS:
Forest Queen by Larry D. Jennings
Within my forest glade, there stands a tree so tall, the top applauds the clouds' parade with massive arms that shade and comfort me. There stands a tree, within my forest glade; encircled… here her children dwell. She grows as centuries descend into Time’s well. Her progeny, a gift that she bestows. She grows, encircled. Here her children dwell to burgeon fair as none have done before. A daughter of my womb, with loving care I’ve nourished her and let her roots explore as none have done before. To burgeon fair,
in greenest jade and golden brown. My crown! My crown in greenest jade and golden brown.
Tidy Twigs by Eira Needham
New sunrays weave; I join the avian song yet apprehension dawns; my chick has grown. You fluttered restless wings, then squawked so long abandoning our nest; my fledgling’s flown. Bereft, I stare at every cranny filled with dying leaves, once placed with expertise. Time’s fingers seem to linger. I rebuild my life, extend stiff wings, explore new trees.
Recall my chirruped warnings that you glide above the stormy clouds. I’ll prune this nest then tidy twigs, repress those fears I hide. So preen your feathers, zoom the sky with zest.
I’ll cluck around my brood in reverie, ’til you swoop home, to roost awhile with me.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Mar 1 09, 09:09
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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MARCH SELECTION:
Laughter by Stephen Pray
My laughter sings on strings, I will not fret. Sweat slides down my neck. I empathize but can't amplify without sounding bored.
Tensions strung too tight, I hum, reverberate. I am leading this duet of meter and rhyme, words carried by my mumbles such are promises.
Will you listen; will you hear?
All I fear are my tomorrows, worries left behind as I unlimber. An instrument of my description, one that plays me, it betrays me.
Voicing a concern with increasing sorrow, in anger and my shame I am retreating yet laughter still remains.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Apr 2 09, 19:50
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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APRIL SELECTION:
Kitchen Contemplations by Robin Cherry-DeWalt
The spaghetti pot talks while her fingers walk on windowpanes of steam. Perhaps one day she won't just pray and wake outside her dream.
Take a trip to France learn the language dance bonjour and s'il vous plait. Or Italy where love is free and passions never sway.
She warms the bread when she hears his tread of boot on wooden stair. Prepares his drink in a routine blink and touches up her hair.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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May 5 09, 19:32
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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MAY SELECTIONS:SADness by Eira Needham
Tinged with melancholy, chilled September air tumbles with desiccating foliage. Sun weakly embraces blues and sadness settles into a crumpled carpet.
Restless swallows congregate, trilling on telegraph wires. I watch them flock to sun baked Africa; long wings undulate until they dot the horizon. Sucked into their void, I yearn for their return.
Decreased daylight spills into long sombre nights: a body clock disturbance. I slouch through stark winter transformed into a couch potato, pigging out on starchy foods. Hedgehogs hibernate beneath last season’s wrinkled sheets, while I intermittently snooze shrouded by a stratus duvet.
Springtime brings illumination winking through dense woods. I’m lifted, listening to swallows twitter in the reeds … I sing.
Wrapped in sun’s warm shawl I’m cosseted -- a bud ready to bloom. Lightning Bolt by Sylvia MaclaganIn a flash, voracious walls of weaving flames swallow coniferous forests. Fireballs arching over brooks and waterfalls ignite woodsheds, barns, homes. Goats agonize in russet glades, their coats burning bright under orange heights. Darting flares trigger new conflagrations, whistling through brittle undergrowth cowed by enduring drought. Ravens swoop over towers of smoke, gauging nature’s insatiable guts. Hydroplanes hover above holocaust, resembling paper projectiles flung by fools. Midget mortals defying the inferno retreat from their trenches. Goliath gobbles buttress and bulwark, sandbanks and hoses, bolts over black belted roads, ultimately succumbs to Patagonian chain of mountain lakes. A colossus has drowned but will be reborn in arcane arcs over time’s infinite flow. Moon sheds serpentine rays on leagues of smoldering Andean slopes and valleys. A child cries. Its mother prostrates herself on warm cinders of her home. I peregrinate in frenzied silence as tears sear my heart, a bulk of pungent pine cones coddled in my hapless hands. A bolt of lightning... or a tossed cigarette butt? Movement by Moonlight by Leo Wyatt
The harvest mouse, fearing the first bite of Autumn frosts, searches fruitlessly. Fleet - she lurches, shrivel boned, between the shaven stalks of wheat. Seeking out the final gleanings, sharp, beneath her hurrying feet.
With luminous eyes, tail twitching,mute, the barn-yard cat - Pouncing! Her gaping jaws announcing her intent. Bright fatal flash of un-sheathed claws. She skyward leaps, feints in the air, but mouse-less, lands with empty paws.
On starlight dusted wings, the Snowy Owl blinks slowly - once. Then glides noiselessly. Unseen - she slides, talons poised, her amber eyes keen, unblinking, Sharp focused on one quaking mouse. She downward stoops – her killing - clean.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Jun 1 09, 18:37
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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JUNE SELECTIONS:
A Gray Area by Stephen Pray
No one notices his presence, pretending nonexistence. Even I, who know better, refuse that patch of gray seen in peripheral vision.
Talking in hushed tones as if he wouldn’t hear, his ears are huge, how could he not?
And each endearing step sends shudders through my bones. As in his dance, he gracelessly pounds the floor.
In the shocking silence that ripples back and forth through the room, I hear him snuffling at canapés and petit fours.
Perhaps their red-rimmed eyes block the view, or maybe as a child only I know… the elephant is there.
A Seed by Larry D. Jennings
Here in my Mother’s heart I lie asleep, sweet shelter from Her minion’s icy breath, I wait beneath Her umber skin. Too deep to hear that song; a howling dirge of death
for those, wind kissed. Light’s portals ever close! No more to feel the sunshine’s warming touch the coming showers carry down to those as fortunate as I. New life is such
a precious gift. Each Spring I’m born anew to feed the butterflies… bless eyes of men who venture near my home. Those lucky few that see my face, dew washed, in forest glen
are like my Mother’s heart which shelters me. A seed of thought, kept safe in memory.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Jul 1 09, 18:14
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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JULY SELECTIONS:
At a Mall in Bangkok, based on Allen Ginsberg's A Supermarket in California by Marc-André Germain
What fancy I entertain of you tonight, Nan, for I rummaged through swarming sidewalks under rose and azure neons with a heartache, ever sentient, scanning the dim sum shops. In my desolation, and shopping for memories, I investigated unfashionable malls, dreaming of your lamentations. What mobile phones and what umbrellas! Clans of friends shopping at night! Boys between the skirt racks, misses in the arcade! -- and you, Mr. Director, what were you doing down by the pawn shop? I saw you, Nan, alone, alluring crestfallen mistress, sauntering among the trinket vendors and eyeing the foreigners walking by. I heard you address each one of them: Hey you! Where you go? Where you from? Do you speak Thai? Do you have girlfriend? I carved my way through flashy stacks of bags and shoes stalking you, and stalked in turn in my imagination by an immigration officer. We traipsed around the subway station together in our solitude and fancies tasting plum puddings, possessing a specimen of every accessible sweet, and never entering the station.
Where are we going, Nan? The station closes in half-an-hour. Which way do your glass shoes point tonight? ( I reach for your photo, the one you gave me not so long ago, and feel both guilty and liable…) Will we ramble all night through noisy and noisome streets? Placards adding noise to noise, lights out in the shops and flats, we’ll both feel lonely.
Will we meander dreaming of a perfect love and a perfect future past the driveways of family duplexes? You knew that I could never provide that for you, and catching my reflection in a scooter mirror, now I can own that too. Long after you will have moved into these quarters, I’ll be traipsing around the subway station, a ghost of you followed by a ghost of me.
Bereavement by Sylvia Maclagan
I’m used to loss itself; it’s trivial things that smart, wear out my heart: orphaned mug on kitchen shelf, terrace table grown too long, and by its side a wooden chair, vacant. Without end, they caution strong, shadowing me in endless pageant.
I disregard remorse for churlish word, fixed angry looks... Oh misplaced books! Or grief for tenderness demurred through life’s uncertain lane. It’s the scrutiny of minor things in winter depths, an enduring bane by which my heart grows fainter.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Jul 31 09, 17:59
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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AUGUST SELECTIONS:
Sky Wars by Eira Needham
Conflicting forces brace for battle, dressed in charcoal camouflage. Prepared to swarm the sky, they mobilize and fly abreast while nimbi squadrons activate the storm.
Descending bombs crescendo; roaring booms provoke the sun to disengage his rays. Grenades explode, their flashes herald doom so startled creatures dart in disarray.
Machine guns fire, barraging foes in bursts; torrential rains unleashed soon drench the land to quench the dehydrated flora’s thirst.
New cirri squads arrive to take command, belligerence retreating. Peace pervades as sunrays rally; victory parades.
Bewitched by Sylvia Maclagan
Summer air quivers. A butterfly unfurls its wings on my bare chest. I hunger for you. Picking blades of grass beside a river where I come to rest, desire arouses me to dazzling bliss. I lick ripples from your breasts, my body surfing unimagined heights from our together nights.
Hummingbirds flirt with flowers. I feel the radiance of your kiss under silken bowers, intoxicated with jasmines’ fragrance.
When night falls, will I have forgotten your love call among those whistling reeds, vibrations of infinite chords? I know moonlit willow-trees will tempt me to tarry awhile. I’ll succumb to sensual smiles in that glade beyond, where nymphs mirror their flesh on surfaces of serene ponds.
Yet April fled.... Cool May moon! I grow old. I might lose my way among the sumptuous shapes of night. The essence of my life may be a dream. I’ll stoop like a cypress weighted with snow, scorned by moonbeams on mountain peaks.
No! I’ll sip only from your fountain: one day it will whirl me to the ocean. I’ll make love to you with fevered heart, engage the teasing motion of your thighs, your impulsive lips.
Yet now, until Morning Star departs, I’ll bask on the banks of alluring creeks.
Note: Seasons of Southern Hemisphere.
Sickle Hand by Walter Schwim
Shifting hopes like windblown sands form ordered rows of crescent moons, on which a scything wind expands her heart from un-touched drifting dunes.
When twilight slowly stills the land, the angry wind abates its blast. I gently take her wanting hand and hold her warm and safe at last.
Before the cautious morning beams paint red her perfect desert sky my briefest kiss intrudes her dreams to be repulsed with scant goodbye.
Relentless wind blows through my mind and sweeps up every tender thought. My fading footprints left behind are fast eroded, leaving naught.
I curse the those fickle pseudo moons that hold my empty arms at bay and curse the wind and crescent dunes that whisked my whispered kiss away.
Favors shift like fickle sand to cover perfect lips un-kissed, extends for love her sickle hand, that with the dawn will be dismissed.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Sep 1 09, 18:43
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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SEPTEMBER SELECTIONS:Tunnel Vision by John MacleodBobbing heads, eccentric, restive rustling feet and scintillating colours as people come and go. For most who walk are strangers and if friends do-chance to meet, it’s only scant acknowledgement to— so and so--. The dank darkened tunnel the rumble, the pound, and syncopating rattle from archway to the hall. With clear glass eyes the newborn hurtles from the womb unbound, and with red-hot brakes a’ screeching, welcomes one and all. Animated puppet dolls, sweat filled summer days, and suffocating carriages where luck fills empty seats. The unfriendly— unnoticed— stand in crowds of cramped malaise, their bodies tired and worn from the city and the streets. Wheels, slip metal brake shoes, slowly turn on rail as stimulated motors breathe out babbled blatherskite. Untethered, the silver train moves on down the chequered trail to vanish, as a ghost, with the spirits of the night. SADness by Eira Needham
Tinged with melancholy, chilled September air tumbles with desiccating foliage. Sun weakly embraces blues and sadness settles into a crumpled carpet.
Restless swallows congregate, trilling on telegraph wires. I watch them flock to sun baked Africa; long wings undulate until they dot the horizon. Sucked into their void, I yearn for their return.
Decreased daylight spills into long sombre nights: a body clock disturbance. I slouch through stark winter transformed into a couch potato, pigging out on starchy foods. Hedgehogs hibernate beneath last season’s wrinkled sheets, while I intermittently snooze shrouded by a stratus duvet.
Springtime brings illumination winking through dense woods. I’m lifted, listening to swallows twitter in the reeds ...… and I sing.
I'm cosseted in sun’s warm shawl, a bud ready to bloom. Lightning Bolt by Sylvia MaclaganIn a flash, voracious walls of weaving flames swallow coniferous forests. Fireballs arching over brooks and waterfalls ignite woodsheds, barns, homes. Goats agonize in russet glades, their coats burning bright under orange heights. Darting flares trigger new conflagrations, whistling through brittle undergrowth cowed by enduring drought. Ravens swoop over towers of smoke, gauging nature’s insatiable guts. Hydroplanes hover above the holocaust, resembling paper projectiles flung by fools. Midget mortals defying the inferno retreat from their trenches. Goliath gobbles buttress and bulwark, sandbanks and hoses, bolts over black belted roads, ultimately succumbing to Patagonia's chain of mountain lakes. A colossus has drowned but will be reborn in arcane arcs over time’s infinite flow. Moon sheds serpentine rays on leagues of smoldering Andean slopes and valleys. A child cries. Its mother prostrates herself on warm cinders of her home. I wander in frenzied silence as tears sear my heart, a bulk of pungent pine cones coddled in my hapless hands. A bolt of lightning... or a tossed cigarette butt?
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Oct 4 09, 18:20
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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OCTOBER SELECTIONS:
Forbidden Lullaby by Walter Schwim
Let my thoughts tonight caress you as the moon does to the sea with a rhythm slow and ancient in a flowing liquid glee.
May the cycles of the cosmos herald rising of a tide that will float us off together on an everlasting ride.
Hold me tightly as we venture on our voyage though the skies so my warmth will still surround you when tomorrow you arise.
For by daybreak I must leave you to atone a life of sin until turning of the heavens drops a key to let you in.
The Laughter of Children by Alan McAlpine Douglas
When life gets you down, you’ve gone grey-green round the gills; every future is cancelled, you simply can’t cope, hear the laughter of children, a cure for all ills.
Essentials have run out, never mind simple frills, you’ve reached rude rock bottom of that slippery slope, when life's got you down, and you’re grey-green round the gills.
In such deep depression you head for the Black Hills, you’re completely, it seems, out of best hempen rope, hear the laughter of children, a cure for all ills.
If, by far, cheeriest sound is massed dentists’ drills you have scope for a tope. So is there any ? Nope! When life's got you down, you’ve gone grey-green round the gills.
Gone are your dreams, des res built in Beverley Hills, there’s pain, bruised your shin, and then slipped on that damn soap; now, the laughter of children is a cure for all ills?
Ground exceeding small, by Blake’s satanic massed mills, and boon there is none, no intercession by Pope; when life gets you down, you’re quite grey-green round the gills, hear the laughter of children, my cure for all ills!
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Nov 15 09, 12:39
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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NOVEMBER SELECTIONS:
My Book by Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
The jacket on my book is soiled and worn but it's as special now as on the day you gave it to me. It has long adorned the shelf beside the window to the bay.
An ordinary child would probably have lost it long ago; I wasn't one: I heard you say so often -- notably a bird-brain. Hearing that was never fun.
I cried a lot and often beat my head against the wall to take away the pain, but nothing seemed to help like jam and bread with peanut butter; I'm okay again.
That day, spilt gasoline all over me, you handed me the book, Light one and see.
The Legacy by Walter Schwim
A Kiss, stolen between the land and sea, with spray - salty on your lips and sand, slipping through our fingers, building tiny stalagmites for laughing children.
Silken Hair, restless as the wind and waves, washing treasures to our tingling feet and your eyes that boldly rob the ocean of its fire while Poseidon roars inside his cowry shell.
Sunshine, warm on sanguine skin, lungs filled with virgin air - un-breathed, in a green forest, resting within my soul.
Your Smile, cascading naked over marbled pebbles, claiming my heart as the mountain murmurs blackly beneath our unshod feet.
These, I'd take with me.
Soil, steeped in blood, inherited with sweat; a lifetime’s toil for fledgling fiscal dreams and prayers - ever unfulfilled.
Promises - made in faith, broken in sickness and in fear of foe and fate. Curved sWords, fired in anger at vulnerable emotions; parried with semi-truths and deception, finally manoeuvring into shadow.
These, (and sorrow’s Tear as well) I gladly bequeath to those – who stay.
She by Beverleigh Gail Annegarn
She arrived in the night hauling her basket of agony. Slowly, she unpacked her heinous wares next to my bed then thrust her needles and swords, sharp and piercing into my flesh.
She dragged barbed wire across my back, until I cried, but still did not stop. Then continued to stab the wounds, leaving them suppurating.
Desperately I searched… respite did not come.
She moves with me, depleting energy, rendering me spiritless.
I am at her mercy.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Dec 1 09, 18:34
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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DECEMBER SELECTIONS:
Born of Sufferance by Walter Schwim
It's not about that desert bloom raised from adversity nor of its humble Eden stooped in anxious piety.
Its all about a cryptic glyph concealed by dirt and stone; evokes the traveller’s weary smile who treads this path alone.
It's crystal to an artist's brush, eludes your poet's eye yet softens at his brief caress this calloused soldier's sigh.
Beneath each blossom's pretty smile lie thorn and toxic bane that shepherds knew could cure or kill so heed their wise refrain.
"When strength is born of sufferance, it wields a holy grace: Do not mistake for weakness, friend, the beauty of a face."
Osmosis by Robin Cheery-DeWalt
In this high rent, low class apartment I sit edge to edge in my chair, fertilized and fat.
In your abstract kiss upon my questioning lips you became my scarecrow, tin man, and lion.
In this world of Dr. Oz and Oprah there are no maps with yellow brick roads.
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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