Wk kortas: Favorites

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Lawrence Hall

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Election Day in Texas: Proposition 3

Pastor’s gotta have his collection coming in
No matter how many of the faithful must die
Vaccination-free for Jesus and America
It’s God’s will (so no one cares when the orphans cry)

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

The Last?

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Thomas W Case

The Last?

This could be
the last poem I
ever write.
I hope not,
but it's possible.

If it were my
last poem,
what would I want
it to say?
Wow, not so easy.

Poetry has been a
loving wife, and I
will miss her on
all those sleepless
nights, when dreams
don't come.
Writing poems have
kept me in touch
with all the harsh
pain, and all the
sublime beauty.
Both are supreme
teachers.

Poetry has opened
my ears to the
sounds of the
earth, the whispered
rush of the creek
running over stones
and sticks.
The cries of my
children in the
night wanting
their mothers'
milk.

If this were
absolutely my
last poem, I would
want it to bring
some joy and be
a bit less sentimental.
Oh well,
guess I have to
write more.

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

She's Gone.

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Marshal Gebbie

She's Gone.

Seems the time has fled like rain
My dear friend vanished too,
Vanished to the gossamer
Just dissipated through…..
One day here, gone the next
No words allaying cost,
Dismissal to the mists of time
Intangibly, just lost.

Your final poem posted
Instilling vibrant air
Of remorseless, sharp reminder
Of a vacuum hanging there.
A suspension of all feeling,
Of warmth and care and touch
The absence of your sunlit mirth
And laughter, loved so much.

A sadness hangs in silent throng
And saddened voices sing
In wreaths of trite redemption
Which angry tears do bring.

But should you have a change of heart
One early, misty morn
To once again put pen to prose
To once again, adorn.....
Replete, shall be this simple soul,
Replete again to dwell,
To once once again devour your words
Forsaking forlorn Hell.

M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
2 November 2021

A plea to those wondrous women
Who have chosen to depart the arena
For reasons of their own,
Be they fair or foul.
Consider the consternation and despair
Caused, imposed,
In the departure, the creative void,
Manifest in the dearth of continuance
Of your utter, poetic magnificence?

You are the very heart of our art.
Please, in the mist of morn,
Deem to return?

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Putting All the Hearts Back Together

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Lawrence Hall

Putting All the Hearts Back Together

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Putting All the Hearts Back Together

A child who takes a clock apart to see
Just how it works can easily be forgiven

Someone who takes a heart apart to see
Just how that works is justly unforgiven

A poem is itself.

#cruelty

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Better Odds

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Bobby Copeland

Better Odds

The lottery gives better odds
Than sonnets penned to win the hearts
Of beautiful librarians,
Who place them on the shelf unread,
So this one I'll fold up & fly,
Like some unruly boy in school,
Where you might find it underfoot
And wonder at the sort of man
Who knows no better way than this
To get back in your hands again--
Unlikely paper avatar,
Slow gliding like the yellow sun
To places it has not been seen
Since you were last alone with me.

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Clowning

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Bobby Copeland

Clowning

Considering the comical
Conception & the tragic fate,
Our clowning on a party night
Has shadings of a miracle
When even on all spirits' eve
We drink the wine that turns to blood,
Then spit it at the axe man's hood
And turn as if we meant to wave
Toward the setting evening sun
That calculates the time of day
And asks for change like errand boys
Who hold out *****, upturned hands,
Expecting less than what they need--
Repairs for broken bones and wings.

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

PERFECTION

Nov 2021 Wk kortas

Lori Jones McCaffery

PERFECTION

What a wonderful moment this is
No pain to be felt anywhere
And everything working smoothly.
I walk with ease on metal hips
And swing the arm with its plastic rod.
I have no need to *** or ****
And the sunrise is outstanding.
The dogs I meet adore their treats
And every face is smiling.

Perfection is a scary thing.
It never lasts forever
But the memory of it does.
ljm

Home fom a too-long trip and eager to read and write.