Tuesday, May 26, 2009

WITS Poetry Corner May 2009

Take Time to Plan

Hey, what are your goals in life?
Our choices are either wrong or they’re right.
Let us make changes that will cause us to grow.
We can live our lives in circles, you know.

There is a process to our destination and we can win.
It takes time, wisdom, knowledge and waiting
patiently to the end.
Don’t forget to include prayer.
This is a tool that will take you anywhere.

Remember always have a plan.
Without one you can end up in nowhere land.
If plan one doesn’t work then try plan two.
Obstacles come your way to hinder you.

Keeping focus is how we stay on track.
Don’t allow circumstances to hold you back.
You have great potential on the inside of you.
Sometimes, we need to take time to think
about what we plan to do.

Tanya Tucker Blowe is the author of the Inspirational Writings from the Living Water. This inspirational poetry book captures the hearts of people and lifts the hearts and spirits of those who require spiritual fulfillment. Tanya’s heartfelt writings give words of wisdom, instruction, and answers that are valuable tools for life. www.tanyablowe.com


First Puppy

by Irene Brodsky author of Poetry Unplugged

How lucky is he?
Couldn't happen to a nicer pet
To be chosen over all the others
To be First Puppy
in the White House.

His name is Bo
Don't ask me "why?"
Only the First Children know
For Bo is the love of their life
To be First Furry Pet.

Bo will go everywhere
with the First Family
Loyal and devoted
Faithful and true
To be First Vacation Pet.

And when Bo goes to sleep,
he says a little "woof"
to thank the angels up above.
They sent him to The White House
to be First Puppy Love.


Eavesdropping at the Writers’ Faire
By Carolyn Howard-Johnson

Two words only. Bon mots.
so lovely our language adopted

them, our authors aspire
to deserve their application

to their literary
pursuits. I hadn’t heard

them since French I and II
but here, with liquid amber

leaves at my feet, writers
at my elbow, I hear them twice.

Repetition makes me think
a translation of “good words”

not up to scratch for the efforts
of their countrymen—Flaubert

or Malraux—equally deficient
for even Faulkner’s folderol

Hemingway’s doodling. Duped
by Francophiles once again!

The bookish and bogus
impressed by the echo

of vowels in their noses.
say belles lettres,

hold them in their mouths
as if they were bon bons,

relish their crème.
We could do better with words

rooted in blunt Germanic
soil. Bons and belles, simulated

pearls, do nothing for an aging neck
that the real thing wouldn’t do as well.

Carolyn Howard-Johnson coauthored She Wore Emerald Then: Reflections on Motherhood with Magdalena Ball. Released in time for Mother's Day giving!

Scrying Phantom Seas
By Laurie Corzett

Listen to the heart of bliss.
On open sand, feel

breeze, vibrance
under oceanic starlight.
Breathing eternity, open
inward to see intricately
expanding visions -- poetry:
thought in magical splendor.
All art is magical; all magic is art.
Yet they are not the same, and part
of a grander landscape, embracing
sky and sea.

From the Emergence of Emerging Visions visionary art ezine #14 published by Laurie Corzett/Libramoon http://emergingvisions.blogspot.com


On Any Given Day

Got the baby to feed.
Got the laundry to do.
Got the boss to please.
Gotta save time for you.

Gotta type up the proposal.
Gotta start the micro-wave.
See me coming, watch me going.
Don’t remember my own name.

Please don’t push me.
Please don’t rush me.
I can only do so much.
Please don’t scold me.
Please just hold me.
I just need a gentle touch.

Sometimes I feel like I’m juggling -
The lily, the sword, the lamp.
Sometimes I feel like I’m strangling -
The struggle, the choke, the gasp.

Who is that girl I used to be?
Did she miss out on the chance?
I don’t want to give up the dream.
I don’t want to sit out the dance.

Please don’t push me.
Please don’t rush me.
I can only do so much.
Please don’t scold me.
Please just hold me.
I just need a gentle touch.

Jan Bossing © Joelton, TN 03-31-09

By Hal Manogue

Spring one hundred years ago
Was very warm: it’s in my
Palm, such life, such gaiety.

Future is a bird streaking
Aimlessly, past is dregs-
Everything’s here now.
Thought sparking though
Sparking thought: headlands
Pocked by time, the rain of tides.

Rock rising, rock sinking.
No space, what was is nowhere-a hundred years hence,

Spring will be as warm.

Shinkichi Takahashi was born in 1901 in a small fishing village in Japan. He is considered one of the truly great figures in Japanese poetry. His thoughts flow with spontaneity and freedom of form. His self dances in and out of the words in a mystic waltz. The poem Spring is no exception. His words bring meaning to the mundane world of just a season and transform it into a consciousness, which expresses itself in the now.

Within each moment of spring another consciousness lives to experience the beauty of its thoughts. The interlocking web of unity echoes through the silence in dreams. The cycle of value fulfillment leaves traces nowhere, but in the soul of time. Time swims through space in waves and tides that wash my palms in life. A hundred years hence the rain of tides will be just where it has always been, within my thoughts and spring will be as warm.

Poet, Author and Essayist, Hal Manogue http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/ is the author of Short Sleeves Insights, Short Sleeves Spirit Songs, and Short Sleeves A Book for Friends

Let’s Get Naked and Run Through the Sprinklers

I’ve wanted to show you so often
Exactly what you mean to me,
But I was afraid of what people would say
If I acted out so obviously.
We’re victims of our inhibitions.
It’s apparent when push comes to shove.
Why don’t we get naked and run through the sprinklers
And show the whole world we’re in love?

You say that I can’t act crazy,
I’m just an old stick in the mud.
Left to myself and my own devices
I’m like an old cow chewing cud.
But I’m tired of misunderstandings.
I’m ready to show the whole world.
I say let’s get naked and run through the sprinklers?
I’m willing to give it a whirl.

Life is too short to sit idly by
While the rest of the world marches on.
There are so many things I want us to try
Before all of the best of our good times are gone.

It’s not so hard to imagine
The kind of unrest we might cause.
Jaws dropping down to their ankles,
Eyes clearly popping in awe.
I’m ready to shed inhibitions
For you and polite company.
Why don’t we get naked and run through the sprinklers
And show the whole world that we’re free.

Dennis S Martin

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