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First Mind, Second Mind, My Third Mind

Submitted by docmaverick on Fri, 2011-12-30 08:44

One morning by my window
my first mind was made aware,

while the dew clung fast to the outside glass
I saw there wasn't anybody, there.

I squinted at the morning's brightness
straining my focus for so I could see,

but my view held empty promises
and none of them were meant to be.

About that time my second mind
began to rear it's crazy head,

to my dismay it wanted to, "play"
I considered going back to bed!

Then from my heart my third mind
offered me another choice,

Let's Pretend

Submitted by docmaverick on Fri, 2011-12-30 06:27

Let's pretend away the shadows
and erase away the fears,

we'll find solace in the future
and let the past hold all the tears;

let's pretend for just an instance
empty moments we hadn't shared,

and both of us were interested
because both of us still cared.

Let's pretend we're in the sunshine
sipping cock-tails in the shade,

and neither you, nor I could think of
any place, which we would trade;

Let's pretend we're not pretending
or that we never thought to start;

THE GARDEN OF THE FINZI-CONTINI:

Submitted by Geremia on Thu, 2011-12-29 22:30

poem updated
Il giardino dei Finzi-Contini
[The Garden of the Finzi-Contini]

On a hillside of the Emilia-Romagna
Cascading colors dark
And somber
Ivy deep green
Shrouding Etruscan faces
Screaming
Paralyzed in stone
Sinews black of Cypress trees
Shadows with no breath
Of sunlight
There lay
Protected and alone
The garden of the Finzi-Contini
Italians of the Sephardic kind
Safe and hidden
From the sounds of war
The year nineteen hundred and forty four

sound of Solace

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Thu, 2011-12-29 16:56

To you in the back of the room
Who accepted insults
Like insulin
To a diabetic

A pair of headphones
Silences taunting voices

Sitting in the last row
Watching as cliques
Try to ostracize you
For not converting
To their ideologies

The lyrics to some rap song
Playing on repeat
Became a sound of solace

You just want to paint
the boring lecture hall
With true colors
Rather than the epidemic
Of superficiality

The Birds, The Bees, and How They Settled

Submitted by emogothgirl on Thu, 2011-12-29 16:29

I guess I'm alive if that's what you'd call it
i've been waiting to set free the wish in my pocket
so, so long dirt road
i'll see you 'round
the valley, it beckons the wind as it blows
all the spiders are going to bed with the crows
'cause they settled for naught
let their own webs hold them down

this crazy mountain air must get to me
i know you're never there but you're all i see
if wishes could be, i'd happily believe
that this breeze would bring you back to me

ALIENS

Submitted by stargirl on Thu, 2011-12-29 13:56

It is an outer world of mysteries
possible alien life
are the legends true?
do these mysteries have only logical explinations?
do these strange other life forms live among us?
why don't we know the answers?
is area 51 area a real place with actual others unknown to us?
these can and will be answered.
if you believe in them.
THEY ARE HERE....

ALIENS

Submitted by stargirl on Thu, 2011-12-29 13:56

It is an outer world of mysteries
possible alien life
are the legends true?
do these mysteries have only logical explinations?
do these strange other life forms live among us?
why don't we know the answers?
is area 51 area a real place with actual others unknown to us?
these can and will be answered.
if you believe in them.
THEY ARE HERE....

why the camel isn't tethered

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Thu, 2011-12-29 09:25

Time.
The city awakens,
the sound of it breaking the
silence of December's dismal night,
wheels in motion, destiny
revolving a circular kind of death.

Oh, wilderness,
plastic gods in plastic battles,
throwaway society,
feed the hungry with the dead
Monsanto killed the seed,
farmers reap no benefits,
only words
blowing in the fallow wind...

Oh, Jerusalem,
this poem is not for you,
divided, you are conquered
from within

BY THE FIRE PIT

Submitted by scribbler on Wed, 2011-12-28 22:51

Far too cold to hear the crickets sing
on this clear November night
with moon encircled by a ring
and stars above so dense and bright

The tic of leaves the only sound
as they fall gently from the trees
to come to rest on frosted ground
while puddle edges start to freeze

On distant road the headlights glow
flickering through the oaks and pines
where pale mushrooms sprout and grow
among the honeysuckle vines

I WILL NOT FALL FOR THAT

Submitted by t. reflexion on Wed, 2011-12-28 22:29

The Niger Delta struggle started, not today
King Frederick William Koko led warriors
to General Goldie’s garrison at Akassa
He was sent on exile after his capture
Oh! I need not say, same story for others
Oba Ovarenwem, King Jaja of Opobo
Nana of Itshekeri, the nostalgic reminiscence
in far away land, my people, my kingdom

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