Sing Anew, O Freedom, Poetry by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Genre: Rhyme, Political, People, Society

Sing Anew, O Freedom
by Jonathan Baltzly

O, hark! Let Freedom sing

Of times anew, times to be

Of days forgotten, days lost

O, see her embark, taking wing

Flying upon all that lives

“Joy!” She exclaims!

Dark clouds near, now disappear

Light shines in heaven

Let the earth be illuminated!

Freedom and Justice, her friend

Liberty her companion

And more gather in the skies

To sing a new, yet familiar tune.

She is not satisfied,

For Mankind has abandoned Truth,

Her closest confidant.

O, hark! She sheds tears as diamonds.

Joy continues to be silent to her cry

Happiness left the land long ago,

But has promised to return.

“O, Love! You abound in hearts and minds

Perhaps Hope will heal Mankind.”

She sighs again, with Liberty at her side

Patience shows her face;

She is followed by Grace,

And finally Strength,

The legend that trampled Evil to its grave.

Strength lifted up her voice

“O, hark! Today is the day!

Let us join once more

We may face War,

We will serve with Honor,

We will uphold Peace,

And Joy will follow in our wake.”

Freedom stood, looking to the North

“Verily, Strength has proclaimed

And lamented words heard before,

From the voice of Truth itself.”

Thus was the resurrection of Truth,

And it came forth

From the heights and depths

To reclaim its rightful place.

 

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Anxiety, Poetry by Shellie Palmer

Every breath I ever take those moments my hands
tremble and shake. I can’t control it, want to lose it all, then
reminded of my faith. The Lord steers the way.
I will never control my inner self, it just
doesn’t work that way. Anxiety, what’s it all about anyway?

Genre: Mental Health, Anxiety, Depression, People

Anxiety  by Shellie Palmer

Every breath I ever take those moments my hands
tremble and shake. I can’t control it, want to lose it all, then
reminded of my faith. The Lord steers the way.
I will never control my inner self, it just
doesn’t work that way. Anxiety, what’s it all about anyway? It’s a
normal kind of life. I have my happy place and along the way there
is grace. I get the poor pitiful you, nope!, not with me I’m better
off independently free. Anxiety won’t ever take hold of me. I’m gonna
have those day with a cloud over my head. I push it far far away the
light is just up ahead. Anxiety, don’t let it be. It’s nothing more than
uncontrolled feelings. In my heart I see nothing less the Lord gave
me a voice to be there. Together we’ll stand strong, we will just be.
We know what it’s like to have anxiety.
@7:21 pm
Tuesday, Jan. 26,2016

 

 

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Assumptions, Poetry by Denise P. Isaac

Life in this world has become

So foreign with its people and style

Everything real taken as fake and

Because the majority will do it

Somehow you believe I will too

Taking no time to

Genre: Life, People, Relationship

Assumptions by Denise P. Isaac

Life in this world has become

So foreign with its people and style

Everything real taken as fake and

Because the majority will do it

Somehow you believe I will too

Taking no time to

study me

learn me

know me

You who are of

Presumptions

Assumptions

Presumptuous

Caught up in the cycle

Of hunting

Of fronting

Of wanting

Something

Someone

That you know nothing about

But yet longs for it

Because it appears to you

To be attainable

To be obtainable

To be Available

However, it’s degradable

To even have such a

Mindset that involves me.

 

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Knock on the Door, Poetry by Pamela Cotter

Knock on the door

Not going to answer it this time

It’s a tap in my life

Help to make the days go by

Genre: Rhyme, Relationship, People

Knock on the Door
by Pamela Cotter

Knock on the door

Not going to answer it this time

It’s a tap in my life

Help to make the days go by

It comes on again

Like a winter storm holding my hand

Its hot like a knife

But would cut you deep inside

You walk away

But the pull closes you in

You need to stay behind.. the curtains again…

It’s a knock the door

It s a knock from the past

You walk away and sigh..

Not this time..not ever this way

Then, with a rush.. a sensation combs your veins

It climbs inside your blood and washes through

It whispers yess. U need it again

It whispers yess.. put on that black..again

Knock on the floor

Your souls meet face to face

It doesn’t disappoint, you history plays again

This time its going to last

As you climb your next hill

This time it will be

As if u never said… I do.

 

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Bowser Complex, Poetry by Mica Scotti Kole

Can you blame me for wanting shiny things?
Down here where the only light burns,
licks against the slime of old walls?
Where the back of my throat is scorched
by the fire I spit to keep you from here?
Flickering, inconstant light—no, friend,
I haven’t stolen the stars for their power

Genre: Nerdy, Persona/Personality

Bowser Complex
by Mica Scotti Kole

Can you blame me for wanting shiny things?
Down here where the only light burns,
licks against the slime of old walls?
Where the back of my throat is scorched
by the fire I spit to keep you from here?
Flickering, inconstant light—no, friend,
I haven’t stolen the stars for their power
despite what the mushrooms have told you.
I crave them, that enduring glow, I have tried
my best, to hide them from you, but it is no use.
Even down here where walking the floors
means you might fall through, where falling
means another notch off a life,
you return, with your funny hats,
again and again, and you find them. So this time,
I’m going to sit and wait for you at the end,
keep them all in one place, see how far you get then.
And while I wait, I’ll follow the sparks of blue torches,
flickers of light on my first-stolen star,
darting among the slow-moving others
that spin with their soft points to watch her—
captive again, she is tired of calling your name.
Dancing in the kitchen, behind the stained glass,
she bakes a cake for me, lets me place the cherry
at the end, lights the candles
with her brilliance, and when you finally knock on my door
she is righting a too-big self-portrait of mine
hanging crooked from a pipe
on the wall.

_______
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His Red Rattle, Poetry by Chris Biscuiti

He tries so hard to grab his red rattle
Staring intently as his hands reach out
One day soon he will win this next battle
Previous victories leave me no doubt

Genre: Rhyme, Family, People

His Red Rattle
by Chris Biscuiti

He tries so hard to grab his red rattle
Staring intently as his hands reach out
One day soon he will win this next battle
Previous victories leave me no doubt

He might not be able to smash his cake
But he’ll definitely love the flavor
With all he’s accomplished make no mistake
It’s been a year we will truly savor

He’ll have birthdays where he blows out candles
and unwraps all of his shiny new toys
One of these years he’ll easily handle
all the goodies given to birthday boys

This year we get the best gift there can be:
Six months without spasms and seizure free

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POETRY, Poetry by Caiubi

but bitter
more bitter
a keepin abstence
well said from who looks
shiping the simple silence to burning words
a pray

Genre: Life, People, Society

POETRY
by Caiubi

but bitter
more bitter
a keepin abstence
well said from who looks
shiping the simple silence to burning words
a pray
a flame as an answer to the world
mute river
deaf move
inert stone
the matters is the poem
imperious hand in a missin work
brings to incandescent spirity
and all call thought incinerated act
water throught abort a will
to you
to everything
to a glorious achivements that only one can do
this poem
gathering mountain of shame
waiting to raise a mirror hand
and nothing
suspect of amnesia
lying absorved
desperade

don’t be afraid
play an end
blink love
crimson leaf

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saint irreverence (about Iggy Pop), Poetry by Tara Keogh

iggy silver leather
sexy slither and destroy
withers into
wriggles and writhes
across the tv eye
in real fun time
for his war zone
world serenade

Genre: Music, People, Rhyme

saint irreverence (about Iggy Pop)
by Tara Keogh

iggy silver leather
sexy slither and destroy
withers into
wriggles and writhes
across the tv eye
in real fun time
for his war zone
world serenade

pop goes the system
implode
explode
reload
all around
it came full circle
to enshrine you
holy and high
fin’ly recognized
as king of the game

punk rock
generator
agitator
tortured man
barking mad
as a hatter

the mercury’s rising
this brother’s on fire
the fuses are fizzling
desire is sizzling
glass is shattering
shards are scattering
as shadows frieze into
scorched scenes
of sublime obscenery
when he vanquishes
with vanguard vulgarity
as saint irreverence

and now he’s legendary
an incendiary tendency
to trash the tolerance
of the bourgeoisie
yank the leg
of the leviathan
undercut uncle sam
incarnate
as he creates
chaotic
melodic
cacophony
catapulting carnage
at the
humanity insanity
and
fucking the man
on his
rude
boy
crusade

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