Oh wondrous being
Thee who leads us from darkness into light
You, yes you who hath humility in your soul
You who like an ember in the coals
Burst forth in blinding flames
To show we lessor men the path
To poetic enlightenment
We, yes we bow low before thy wisdom
For thy are great in your wonderment
Oh
Without thy emphatic mind
The written word is but a mundane thing
Only you can put artistry in I
Only you can inspire with Oh
Master, Master mere mortals such as we
Can never hope to compare
With the artistry that is thee
Wondrous being, lord of word
Absorb me into your flock
For thou hath the poetic ability
Of my ***** rancid sock

The words in a torrent flowed
Enthusiasm then unbound
But as the poem grew
The torrent slowed
The words could not be found

Advice she sought from one old man
To guide her on the way
Keep it simple keep it short
Was what that old man did say

When a pup is born it is the norm
To stagger on wobbly legs
Made of rubber no control
Over multi jointed pegs

But given time the muscles grow
And develop more control
And as the weeks and months progress
The pup becomes a whole

And so it is with our kids on here
You must learn to walk before you run
Then in the fullness of time
The greater works will come

Thee Artiste aka Loghain Carvo

Marge and George had been married for 50 years
They made a pact
Who ever went first would come back
And tell the other what heaven was like
Came the day George was called
With his dying breath he told Marge
That he would keep the pact

A few months later Marge heard a voice calling her name
George she answered is it really you
Tell we what life's like on the other side

Well he said we wake up early and have *** several times
before breakfast
After breakfast its more *** then a sleep before lunch
After lunch its fun and games and more *** before supper
Once suppers over its more *** before bedtime

Oh George then surely you must be an angel in heaven
No he said, after I died I ended up as

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A rabbit in Central Park

Well this 2014 is finally drawing to a close
Looking back what do I see
Ebola
******
The massacre of innocent children
Countries where the bullet and bomb rule
In the name of religion
And yet amid the madness
The carnage
I still see beauty
Beauty in unspoiled landscapes
Beauty in a simple wild flower
I also see love
The old couple on my street
Married for over 50 years
Young mothers with young children
The old couple are content
They have lived and loved through times
Both good and bad
But the young mums and dads
With the young kids
What does 2015 hold for them?
Peace and happiness
Perhaps,
There is still beauty here but in another form
That my friends is the beauty in your written words
Words that bind ethnicity and religion
Into one family
That is our family, hellopoetry

I wish you all a safe and peaceful 2015


Joe

Oh!
I pray, yes I pray
For acceptance
For the offer of friendship
From thee my lessors
For as the dust color rubs from
The wings of moths
Thus my brilliance must rub onto
Thee, though, I, oh!
But
If thee choose not to give
Friendship to I
Then in the depths of mediocrity
Thee must lie
Oh
Oh
Oh
Who but I can rejoice at
Birds in herds and fish in flocks
Rejoice at my offer of friendship
So that thee also can kneel in worship
Before my throne
Rejoice, yeah rejoice in my being
I the lord and master of art

We the men of the Sussex Weald
When winters nights are long
Sit beside the deep log fire
And sing the Sussex songs
We talk of crops and fertile soil
Of rich earth turned by the plough
Of fishing boats who from harbours small
Reap a harvest from the shoals
Strong ale shared by those who care
About the Sussex weald
Yes we, we who care we will be the shield
We the men of the Southern downs
Yes we of the Sussex weald
To no man will we go on bended knee
To no man will we yield

Cold, wet, shivering
Standing miserably in a dark doorway
The one I called home
A home without lights, without warmth
A shadowy figure loomed out of the
Swirling mist
A shapeless faceless figure in the dark
Without a word, without stopping
It reached out and pressed a piece of paper
Into my hand
In the damp half light of the following morning
I looked at the piece of paper, to my amazement
A lottery ticket
A few hours later I walked into a news agent
Asked the man to check the ticket
Sometime later and still in a state of shock
I walked back out
Richer by £50,000
Thank you faceless Samaritan

To all members of Hellopoetry
(Not just my followers and friends)
Well that's another year behind us,
Another year of both good and bad
Another year of both happy and sad
A year in which I've seen friendships blossom
A year in which I've seen verbal abuse
But also love in equal measure
Verbal abuse! Yes and I've dealt out my share
Also a year in which I chose to set my challenges
Which in their turn gave us six dailies
You wrote the poems and so the credits go to you
This has been a year when I have seen young writers blossom
A year when grumpy old men like me are coming to the end
And so what does the future hold for this great site
In the coming year?
A new year when we can encompass the world
Arms linked with poetry both good and perhaps not so good
A new year when humility and not over inflated egos
Are paramount
Unfortunately I don't believe that will ever happen
You know when I used to teach several years ago
I never had failures in my classes
I had students who weren't quite as good as some others
They weren't derided because of it but were encouraged
To try in another way
Criticism yes but constructive criticism
And that in an ideal world is how this site should be
The strong helping and encouraging the less strong
Can we all work towards that goal
The majority here already do so

I wish you all a very happy Christmas and my heartfelt wishes for the coming new year


Joe

It was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stiring
Not even a mouse
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Because I had already caught him

EYE
       ARE
               ART



                         ART
                                 ARE
                                         EYE

Oh such inspiration, such brilliance. Art still lives in my words

Only when dormant brain cells copulate
Is a true artiste born
For the progeny of dormant brain cells
Were born to be great
The inspiration for I Oh and Thee
Can only be possible
If dormant brain cells meet

It flows
It grows
(Yeah **** flows and mould grows)
Oh, oh my mother spread her thighs and birthed a genius
(Not sure about that, I think she was taking a dump)
I belong, I belong among the greats artistes
( At last we agree, Shakespeare and Keats are dead)
Oh foul foul world, those who cast scorn upon my wondrous talent
( SCORN!! Would I waste perfectly good scorn on you)
WHY do you hate and despise me so, mock me?
(Same as scorn, why waste a perfectly good mock)

I dipped a woodlouse in the ink
I set it on the page
Watched it craft fine works of art
I was stunned, so amazed by the words that flowed
I's and oh's there in repose as that louse moved its feet
None here could write with such delight
Such a one word piece of art
And so I set a color pallete down
Watched it work throughout the night
Oh, oh such a glorious work evolved
Of color tint and hue
A work so crafted, so wonderful
That could be challenged by so few
And upon that work of wonder
A one word poem grew
And all this by a woodlouse
Using six legs instead of two

Yeah sure I was a fool
Yeah sure I failed in school
But what the ****
The state owes me
So why should I fight to find a job
When the state pays me to be a slob
Suckers like you can pay the bill
While I smoke crack and sell some ****
I live in a welfare state
Coin the money and don't give a ****
Oh, Oh at education I wasn't good
But don't ******* me about what I need
A pump of ****** is proper food
You failed me in my time of need
Now the needles bite gives me the feed
Of slow death flowing through my veins
And at thirty I said my last goodbyes

So who is Sharina Salad?
Well she is Malaysian and a great writer
She was my mentor on another website
And but for her I probably wouldn't be writing now
Follow SHARINA

You know I have no idea
What is a cliche or metaphors?
Sorry no idea
I write from the heart
The love of words
I don't need the *******
Write what you think and feel
That's true poetry

Yes, I was there
Because like many of you
I have been there
Charging into shot and shell
The stench of blood and **** permeates the air
Do you really think death is so quick and clean?
No,  no , hold your mate while he's crying for his mum
Pick up the mangled guts while you tell him it's OK
Yes. Cry for him today for its not an unmanly thing to cry
For when tomorrows battle joins
It might be my time to die

The came down from their misty mountain hold
Short of stature but oh so bold
Helms of beaten iron on their heads
Belts of gold on girded waist
Sword Axe and hammer, the tools of war
Oaken shields also worn
They came to beard the dragon in his lair
Bring rescue to a maiden fair
Held in fear against her will
In that rancid caven deep in the hill
Each warrior knew of the danger faced
But would not retreat as coward disgraced
When the searing flame of hell released
Would burn the hair and singe the face
For these were warriors of a race so old
They the dwarves from the misty mountain holds

What is the perfume of life?
The smell of fresh mown grass
The rich aroma of freshly turned soil
That beautiful milky buiscuity smell of a young puppy
This then is the perfume of life

When I was a kid Christmas started on about 20th December
It was a time of surprise, of belief
The anticipating of what was to come
Sadly now Christmas starts in early October
Shops filled with baubles
Second rate American films about Christmas
Where has the Christmas we knew gone?

He who plays his own trumpet the loudest
Usually can't play more than three notes

The axes sang their bitter song
And the blood flowed
Blood of innocent, gentle men
Men who pledged their lives to Peace
But...the Axe bit deep
Heart blood shed
And a man of god died
All in the cause of conflict and belief

But.....but have we not learned the lessons
From the errors of our past
Innocent men who only sought to help
Now beheaded in the dust
I don't care your religious views
Of your beliefs and vows
But I do believe in the sanctity of life
And mans right to be heard..
No matter what religion you follow