Poetry Corner March 2009

In My Dreams

by Irene Brodsky, Author of Poetry Unplugged

I love him
He doesn't know it
My heart sings
He can't hear it
My hand reaches out
He will never feel it.

I have no right
to love him
as I do,
For I'm not free
I belong to another
What more can I say?

Maybe someday?
If things change,
he will come to me.
'Till then...
I'll cry myself to sleep
and see him in my dreams!

See Irene on YouTube!

Drink to Us

Raise a glass,
Raise a bottle,
Drain the keg if you please,
Run your engine full throttle
In the cool evening breeze.
Be a friend,
Be a partner,
Be the one that I trust.
Drink a toast to forever,
Drink to us.

I can recall all the good times we’ve known,
The million and one ways our friendship has grown,
The laughter, the tears, the frets and the fuss,
So let’s toast to ourselves,
Drink to us.

Raise a glass,
Raise a bottle,
Drain the keg if you please,
Run your engine full throttle
In the cool evening breeze.
Be a friend,
Be a partner,
Be the one that I trust.
Drink a toast to forever,
Drink to us.

Never say never, and always be true.
I can’t imagine a time without you.
We’re taking our time. There’s no need to rush.
Raise your glass one more time.
Drink to us.

Dennis S Martin
http://www.iwritesome.com
http://iwritesome.blogspot.com/

A Conscious Painting

I Paint In Fragments
That Change
In Contrast

I Move From Canvas
To Canvas Expressing
The Desire
To Be A Conscious Painting
Of Inner Consciousness

The Ink Well
Of Acceptance Dries
In The Air
Of Separation

My Brush Dips
Itself in Blood
As Mental Enzymes
Turn Into Human Thoughts

Copied From Memory
Unique Mysteries Drizzle
My Outer Edges
With Magical Desires

Fresh Beliefs Become
A Colorful Vibration
Of Expression
And My Nucleus
Entertains
A Family Of Nuances
That Shade Themselves
In Dreams

An Art Form
Of Timeless Motion
Captures My Multiplicity
In Free Style
And I Rest
On A Easel
Of Eternity

http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/

From my 2009 Short Sleeves collection of Spirit Songs, which should be in print sometime this year.


Let Her Go

She comes to him in the dead of night.
In dreams that bring him to his knees.
He’s forty-five now and in the dream.
But she’s still seventeen.
So young, so fine, so free.

Then he’s awake and he’s shaking.
He knows she is dead to him.
But he’d trade his soul to the devil,
Just to bring her back again.
So young, so fine, so free.

She’s gone, Buddy, let her go.
Even if you found her, it wouldn’t be the same.
So hold that sweet woman beside you,
The one you sometimes call by that other one’s name.

They were just kids being kids.
Somehow it all went to hell.
They played for a long, long time.
Then their bubble burst; they fell.

Things that were funny, just got sad.
Times that were magic, went all bad.
He couldn’t look at her; she just cried.
They didn’t have the heart to try.

He wants to throw her out; he wants to close that door.
But she comes in the night, takes him back once more.
He’s forty-five now; in his heart, seventeen.
So young, so fine, so free.

She’s gone, Buddy, let her go.
Even if you found her, it wouldn’t be the same.
So love that good woman beside you.
The one you sometimes call by that other one’s name.

Jan Bossing © 2009 Joelton, TN