Notice: Life Contained

From clouds of inspiration in a sky of emptiness comes rain –
To soak a parched cocoon,
Which appear to be levitating
Concealing a phobia
Unexplained by life
No matter how many moment’s notice
And you may or may not notice,
Through the clarity of rain
Every drop of it magnifies – a wonder of life –
Everything that’s held within the cocoon,
Every beginning of a hope or a phobia
Levitating
Perched on the edge of dawn, levitating,
And slowly, a crease unfolds until the miracle is allowed to notice
They are not the pupa with a phobia
But a butterfly – baptised by rain
A pearl of wisdom inside a shell – a cocoon
The oyster of life
And as this story of life
Begins levitating
Through your mind’s cocoon
Where the things you notice
Are magnified by your brain and not the rain
You shatter your own phobia
A long held phobia
That your own life
Would rain
Down tears instead of levitating
Or elevating and everyone would notice
The gloom of your cocoon
The doom of your cocoon
Now a bygone phobia
Something to pay no notice
A cast away part of life
An empty shell left levitating
In the rain
Your empty cocoon no longer holds life
Your phobia can be left levitating
And all people will noticeis the butterfly baptised by the rain

(c) Gemma Hinton 14/6/15

Remember (16)

It’s the little things that
make up my personality.
All those tiny tidbits
that cling to my brain
like cereal-box stickers
on bedroom windows

The telephone number
from my childhood home
the patterns of the turning dial
on the single rotary phone
at the desk in the dining room.

The way grandmother smelled
like mothballs and
burnt coffee and
Sunday roast beef dinners and
Bible school flannel graph lessons.

The flash of fireflies on
muggy summer evenings
in the Kansas summertime
peels of children’s laughter
as we filled jars with phosphorescence.

It’s the little things
that shine as silver threads in
the quilt I am still stitching,
bringing comfort, continuity
character to my waning days.

Poem 13

I wear my heart on my sleeve,

you tell me.

I am hurt by your words

but as they sink in,

I realize they are true.

I DO wear my

heart on my sleeve.

That is because

I love hard, deeply.

I love everyone who means

something to me.

I fall in love with them:

my children,

my friends,

my students.

Exposing my heart

so openly

makes me more

vulnerable.

I am madly in love with

people who make me

laugh, cry,

feel, love.

You reap the benefits

of my fashionable heart

on my sleeve.

Feel free to tug on it

if you feel it needs

a little more love.

I can always use

more of that.

 

Eve Remillard

6/14/2014

I ALLOW

I allow you to love me
I allow you to help me reconstruct my walls, but with you in it.
I allow you to hold me and give me your attention.
Just when I thought it was to late to be love and appreciated again.
You help me heal and get my wounds close and seal again.
I allow you to show me the way to
A adventure. I gave you full access to my soul, you have the power to destroy me and turn me cold
From the inside out.
I allow your strength to feed my soul
I allow your touch to transform in my addition.
I allow you to live within me
I allow you to put my wings
And concur my dreams
I allow my signature on you
Because you believe and you carry me. You give me inspiration and my world turns bright when I’m around you. I’m not easy, but you allow your soul to deal with me.
I allow you in my world
Because you love me…
—Marquez Meriyen

Screengrab sonnet

Gently rustling leaves

dance delightfully

as if there’s a sneeze

tickling the beech tree.

 

The playful wink of the rising sun

finds me in the same position

as when the frown of the setting one

departed for dark abandon.

 

I make for a dishevelled sight,

stiff and cramped, creaky an’ all,

but I’ve been writing poetry all night

and inside I’m feeling ten feet tall.

 

Gratitude, respect and admiration

for this amazing marathon.

My thinking

I like to think the love it’s not just a four letter word. Love captives the soul of your significant other and touches your soul in the moment of the first kiss.
—Meriyen Marquez

Pop Bottle Puppeteer

O’ Storyteller, Bard of My Youth –

Please, make the dolls dance.

I cannot bear such silence.

 

 

By Karen Sullivan

Form: Lament

Hour 16: Ancient Lore

Ongoing still, the oration of an ancient story

Aging ever faster, ever growing gaunt and hoary

A tale so old and often told

Of gold for blood and blood for gold

 

Recited countless times before the jury

How warm the blood, the gold how cold

Ever echoing from glen to wold

This immortal, devouring story

 

Rose-tinted tales of valour and glory

The truth behind more dark and gory

Fear and loathing for the old

Death and murder for the bold

 

And yet a useful allegory

For those earnest and intrepid-souled

Those seeking to reform the mould

And ink another, kinder story

City Adventures

With landscapes so lovely
It’s hard to not be joyous
Immersed in this loud
Bustling city
A sense of peace
Makes its way through these city adventures

Yes! City adventures,
You know those that leave you feeling quite lovely
They bring about this tantalizing peace
Joyous
Is what you feel in these busy city
Streets… streets so loud

From the loud
Invigorating adventures
One gets lost and finds oneself in this city
This lovely
Joyous
Place… a place where in the nonstop distractions one can seek its peace

A peace
That silences the noises around and leaves you with your loud
Voices in your mind… they cry with a joyous
Yearning for the inexperienced adventures
Whose memories leave a lovely
After taste in this beautifully tainted city

In this beautifully tainted city
The misunderstood find their peace
In the most unnatural lovely
ways… They look unlike the rest, making statements so loud
One can only see the uniqueness of this city through the unexpected adventures
One decides to take… it is joyous!

Joyous
This city
and its adventures
Create this spell-bounding peace
Even in its loud
And upbeat tempo… One can’t help but feel lovely

Experience this joyous never ending peace
This city creates with its loud
Indescribable adventures… this city is amazing and lovely…

-Angelica Villarruel