With lush language and lavish imagery, Gabriela Marie Milton evokes a fantastic world ripe with emotion. Christina Schwarz, the author of the New York Times Bestseller Drowning Ruth This is a mesmerizing collection of poetry. Gabriela Marie Milton’s lines teem with life, passion, and introspective courage. Brian Geiger, editor of Vita Brevis Truthfully, I never […]
via Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings — Author DC Gilbert
Composing poetry to some is a science while to others it’s a craftsmanship. When you know the contrast between the two strategies for moving toward verse, you can pick which of the two is the most ideal route for you to get into verse. Obviously, you may likewise pick the two techniques – focusing on […]
When my babies were born I was afraid.
Their tiny brown bodies so fragile
that even a hand placed too low
or too high
would fail to support their necks
and they would break.
They grew as strong and as American as the trunks of apple trees
but still I am afraid
of the intentional placement of knees
on brown and black necks
not fragile but weakened
by these chains that don’t look heavy until you’ve worn them a hundred years.
I watched my babies as they slept
my heart stopped each time their chests took a millisecond too long to rise
but they always did rise, and then I too could breathe again.
To suffocate must feel
like you are drowning slowly
like the air is right there if you could just reach the surface
if only the blurry hands and voices begging for your breath were strong enough to break through and save you.
Instead only the black pavement held you like a mother’s chest until there was no more sky.
And the strange slow violence of your murder played again and again like nursery rhymes
like prayer
reminding us to choose between breath and fear.
he is sitting at the kitchen table
and I can hear the fridge humming
this air is thick with tension, please,
I wish you would just cut me into pieces
with that dull dinner knife you use
please cut me into pieces
until I am so small that I can fit
up in the cracks in the ceiling
or into the grooves of our tiled floor
because I cannot stand to share a meal with you
where neither of us
dare speak a word
a.c.t
@poemsbyact
Oh boy, here I am, I am the boss,
Don’t ever try, my way to cross.
This is a camera and not an eye,
You have to follow my orders and don’t ever ask why.
I am the one, who can divide zero with negative,
You might be given once in 5 years a small incentive.
Don’t ever expect a leave for sad demise or function preparation,
Because it is directly proportional to the sudden new project that needs
attention.
You cannot be my favorite unless you are my pet poodle in the office,
“I’M ALWAYS RIGHT” is the only rule in this premise.
You can’t be classified as a human so don’t dare to fall ill,
Work load you will get is directly proportional to my mood and my will.
You have to be on time and don’t ask me when to leave,
As your timings are not the same as mine, and that you should believe.
I’ll be considerate and spare you on Saturdays and Sundays,
But do not expect mercy on rest five days.
Remember, I’ll always take credit for your work,
Miss a single comma, full stop or an apostrophe and you will have to rework.
You must find your pride in fault findings and public humiliation,
Dare you fight with me and on grounds of “INCOMPETENCE” you get
your letter of termination.
So the rules are clear and welcome to my world where I am the boss,
And let me remind you, never try my way to cross.
May 12, 2020 / From Jesse’s Facebook page: “A couple of weeks ago I made a simple request: I asked if we could sing a song together from all over the world. Initially, I wasn’t sure if any of you would take me up on my offer, so I was completely unprepared for the […]
A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both. Dwight D. Eisenhower, president, First Inaugural Address, delivered 20 January 1953
via “A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both.” — Art of Quotation
We cherish too, the Poppy red That grows on fields where valor led, It seems to signal to the skies That blood of heroes never dies. Moina Michael, humanitarian, professor
via “the Poppy red… seems to signal to the skies, that blood of heroes never dies.” — Art of Quotation
How deceptively light they are, the truly decisive steps we take in life. John Banville, author, book quote from The Untouchable
via “How deceptively light they are, the truly decisive steps we take in life.” — Art of Quotation
A dying culture invariably exhibits personal rudeness. Bad manners. Lack of consideration for others in minor matters. A loss of politeness, of gentle manners, is more significant than is a riot. Robert A. Heinlein, writer, book quote from “Friday”, 1982
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 