Sunday, September 30, 2012

The Football Game Psyche On 9/29/2012 In Stately Senses!

Football game 4 at 6:50pm last night at Pickens Stadium,
Oklahoma state University against Texas Longhorn,
The sky was cloudy despite the audience's enthusiasm,
But hope for OSU or UT was not torn.
At 6:45pm, the library bell rings a wordless note,
Cars of white, silver, black or orange make the place dull,
Noises, disco music, and broadcasting voice unfold,
The curiosity at the crowd rises like the red bull.
Like life's occurrences, It's just a game,
Fans of both sides withhold their breath,
None of the players would be tame,
Breath taking performances with both teams done their best.

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Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Witches's Wood By Mary E. Coleridge

 Judy Underwood chasing Rainbow/


Thursday Flash Fiction Week 28: Innocence and Dreams


There was a wood, a witches' wood,
All the trees therein were pale.
They bore no branches green and good,
But as it were a gray nun's veil.
They talked and chattered in the wild
from morning dawn to set of sun,
like men and women that have sinned
whose thousand evil tongues are one.
Their roots were like the hands of men,
Hard and brown with clutching gold.
Their foliage women's tresses when
the hair is withered, thin and old.
There never did a sweet bird sing
for happy love about his nest.
The clustered bats on evil wing,
Each hollow trunk and bough passed.
And in the midst a pool there lay
of water white, as tho' a scare
had frightened off the eye of day
and kept the Moon reflected there.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

The Dream (For Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 73)

Languages, signs, and symbols float everywhere,
They haunt me, refusing to disappear.
It’s snowing in a post,
I spy a white furry ghost.
Words written are foreign,
How to get them translated, it’s forgotten.
I make a click on my mouse,
I see a rocket dropping on my house.
I make another click, carrying fear,
I see a shark flying, coming near.
I hold my breath, shutting the computer down,
A bear pops out of the screen, big and brown.
I try my best to scream,
I find myself shivering in bed, it’s just a dream. images

 The Perfect Poet Award Of Week 72

Hyde Park Poetry  has honored me an award, I feel humble, Thanks for considering of me, I wish to nominate another poet for week 73, she is  Virginia Davis Hargis...Happy Rally Week 73 Today…

Monday, September 17, 2012

The Penguin (Qi'E) Style of Sonnet (Definition and Smaple Included)!!!


 A sonnet (sonetto in Italian, sonetti being the plural)
refers "little song", or "little sound",
or "to sound", "to ring", "to play",
some believes that a sonnet is a newly minted coin of a realm,
or a breakthrough from monotony of patterns,
the sonnet is a poem with 14 lines,
which builds up as a process, a moment
advancing from images to insights,
from inquiry to comprehension...

Here is a sample of a sonnet written by Mike Nelson


For the Lover of the Dark

I was not much more than a boy in those
days, and of all the half-witted thoughts
I had, the one that a woman could mean
everything has come back to haunt me.
She and I went walking and arguing
about her face. Though it was night, the dark
matched her hair, as she brushed her hair
aside, and I clearly saw it. It was
What happened in a planetarium
when the lights faded out and the stars came on,
and were set turning. Way back, way back, fooled
by the illusion so the mystery
could take place, squinting to make the ceiling
vault again. Just try and forget.

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