Poet Society

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Comment by papaed on July 16, 2009 at 6:14am

All bustling in the Midwest.

early morning, robe hanging loose
fresh coffee steaming in hand
another day with heat and threatened rain
Oliver, the scottie, talking at the fence
till buddie Archie, the retriever, comes out to play
fan over the pool table blinking a shadow on my glasses
light from the skylight on the keyboard
distant gentle wind sound is traffic on the highway
37 overnight messages, facebook growing
International books cafe photos and videos list
co-dependent young man asking for advice
deadline for poetry contest looming
business estimate needing creation
shuffle of house slippers
"Morning Dear!"
my sweet turns on morning news in other room

It's another beautiful day.

papaed

Comment by L.Nolan-Ruiz on July 16, 2009 at 1:54am

All Quiet On the Western Front
Lydia Nolan
July 14, 2009


Outside, it’s pitch, and the only sounds I hear
are occasional cars, and timed sprinklers nearby—
It’s past midnight. I left the colored lights on in the patio.
They seem to be swaying in the wind, and the trees sway, too
enjoying the moonlight—
It’s past midnight. I’m thinking: how can I reinvent my self,
when all the years have passed me by—
And I’m tired. The dark is elusive, the moon full, and
A blanket of stars come forth, and they intensify—
I must admit I never really hear myself think
Until I’m by my self, this late, passed midnight—
I must let go of my desperate desire to mirror the models,
And look at my own reflection, and try and rest easy tonight—
I listen to the quiet, and I look out into nothingness,
and Peace is taunting me...
All’s quiet on the western front tonight— That’s what it says.

Comment by Brian L Porter on March 11, 2009 at 4:52am

Thanks for inviting me Ann. I must say I'm delighted to be here, and also to have been voted the P & E 'Best Poet of 2008'. I'm posting one of my poems here that I hope veryone will enjoy. It's taken from my latest collection 'Of Aztecs & Conquistadors' from Mythica Publishing, and as you can see, its written under my poetic pseudonym of Juan Pablo Jalisco. the book is available from a number of online retailers and can be ordered by going to www.mythicapublishing.com or clicking on the cover design at the end of the poem.

So, here's the poem. I hope you enjoy it.

Brian aka Juan Pablo Jalisco

IGUANAS IN THE EVENING AT UXMAL

The history of the ancients stands silhouetted against the fading light,
As evening exacts its toll upon the day,
And myriad cicadas serenade the setting sun,
In a scene of ever-changing visual and auditory cacophony.
The colors of the world fade from pastel to dark,
And the great pyramid of the ancients commands awe in the eye of the beholder.

I sit upon the weathered steps once trod by long-dead priests and rulers,
Steps saturated by the day-long heat of the once revered and worshipped sun.
Rising from the jungle, reaching out to touch the sky,
The stones bear witness to the passage of the past.
The Maya are no longer, their history obscure,
But El Pyramide del Adivino is as real as I.

I close my eyes, and in the gathering gloom,
I can almost hear the sound of warriors in joyful song,
Of people’s voices raised in celebration, when this was a city of life.
But no, this is just my mind at play, and there, at the causeway’s end,
Rafael Montoya leads his weary mule home for the night,
Another day of selling souvenirs to the tourists at an end.

A sudden rush of sound above my head, I look up and there I see,
A flock of yellow warblers, so many they fill the sky, as they head towards their roosting trees.
The shadows of the past lengthen, night will soon be here,
But I am transfixed by my own reverie, as I sit upon the ancient steps.
As the stones grow cooler, and the sun sinks lower I sense more than see
Movement all around me, and the steps and stones become alive.

Iguanas, large and small, converge upon the temple,
And, ignoring me in their single-mindedness, they bypass me without a thought.
I watch, transfixed, as every crack and every niche in every stone is occupied.
And I think that maybe the pyramid is still a place of worship, of a kind.
Sun-worshippers, cold-blooded, in need of the life-sustaining warmth of the mighty sun,
And where better to retreat when the cool of night invades their reptilian world?

The steps and stones on which I sit hold the warmth of the passing sun,
For an iguana in search of a bed, a centrally-heated citadel.
I lose count of their numbers, but watch until the parade is done,
I begin to descend, but as I go, I turn, look back, see a straggler wriggle into a vacant crack.
And as the Pyramid of the Magician stands in silhouette against the moonlight,
I walk slowly home, and my dreams that night are filled with ancient warriors and sleeping iguanas.

Comment by SJ Sinister on January 22, 2009 at 10:06pm

Thank you, again, for thinking of me.
You rock!

Comment by Happy Valentine on January 22, 2009 at 12:03pm

thx 4 the invite. awesome my friend !

Comment by Jeanie Pantelakis on January 22, 2009 at 11:02am

REGISTER NOW!
Scribblers’ Retreat Writers’ Conference 2009
Literacy is our purpose.
Fulfilling dreams is our goal.
www.scribblersretreatwritersconference.com

@ Sea Palms Resort, St. Simons Island, Georgia
February 12-15, 2009 – Elizabeth Blahnik, Ernest Gilbert, Pam Mueller, Kathy Kerr, Maggie Toussaint, Dr. Jim Outlaw, Lee Carter, Millie Wilcox, Monica Simmons, Roger Pinckney
May 14-17, 2009 –Dickie Anderson (F), Ed Ginn, Ervin Williams, Holly McClure, Cappy Rearick, Harlan Hambright, Constance Daley, Bud Hearn, Mary Wagner, William Rawlings
August 13-16, 2009 – “SciFi, Fantasy, Mystery, Inspirational”
November 12-15, 2009 – “Novels, Short Stories, etc”

Scribblers’ Retreat is a non-profit organization established with the goal of reaching writers of all ages; to inspire and promote their hidden gifts and talents.
By involving the local community, authors, publishers, editors, journalists and all forms of the literary world, we are opening their minds and bringing hope where there was doubt.
Scribblers’ Retreat is not the typical classroom setting. It was designed to bring world-class authors, literature professors, editors, journalists, illustrators, photo journalists, proofreaders, publishers, publicists, screenplay writers, and website/graphic designers, etc. one-on-one with young and old alike. It is the opportunity of a lifetime for someone who has had a manuscript in a desk drawer for 40 years or who has an outstanding poem that simply must be read.
Scribblers’ Retreat Writers’ Conference
Where “can’t” is not in our vocabulary.

For more information:
Jeanie Pantelakis
Co-director
Scribblers' Retreat Writers' Conference
1-800-996-2904
912-230-2207
cpantelakis@gmail.com

Comment by Archer on January 19, 2009 at 6:32pm

Thank you for the invitation - I look forward to more interactions!

Comment by Ben Nuttall-Smith on January 19, 2009 at 5:52pm

I hear a voice crying in the night, "Help me. Help me, please."
Take the hand of a fellow poet, hold tight. Comforting words to get you through the night. You'll be alright. Sleep tight. Ben.

Comment by Ben Nuttall-Smith on January 19, 2009 at 5:33pm

Thanks for the invite. Once I get my head out of the novel I'm trying to complete, I'll get back to more straight poetry. Of course, my other writing is always full of poetry. My characters write the stuff. Ben

Comment by Jolen Whitworth on January 19, 2009 at 1:11pm

Thank you for the invite. I'll spread the word.

Jolen