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> MM's Represented Poems for 2009, Best of luck!
Cleo_Serapis
post Jan 2 09, 07:35
Post #1


Mosaic Master
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Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Feb 12 09, 10:11
Post #2


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Mar 1 09, 09:09
Post #3


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Apr 2 09, 19:50
Post #4


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post May 5 09, 19:32
Post #5


Mosaic Master
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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



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 Maclagan


In 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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Jun 1 09, 18:37
Post #6


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Jul 1 09, 18:14
Post #7


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Jul 31 09, 17:59
Post #8


Mosaic Master
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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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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
 
+Quote Post  Go to the top of the page
Cleo_Serapis
post Sep 1 09, 18:43
Post #9


Mosaic Master
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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



SEPTEMBER SELECTIONS:


Tunnel Vision by John Macleod


Bobbing 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 Maclagan


In 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?


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Oct 4 09, 18:20
Post #10


Mosaic Master
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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



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!


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Nov 15 09, 12:39
Post #11


Mosaic Master
Group Icon

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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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Cleo_Serapis
post Dec 1 09, 18:34
Post #12


Mosaic Master
Group Icon

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



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.


·······IPB·······

"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 Rings

Collaboration 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. Kanter

Nominate 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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