User Poetry

[Dr. Drib]

A Great Beginning

Retired and retiring
The Old Lady bemoans
her empty pockets.
Her empty chance.

The plastic ceiling
warps in the heat.


Donald Broyles - 11/09/2016

[kennyc]

Originally Posted by Dr. Drib

A Great Beginning

Retired and retiring
The Old Lady bemoans
her empty pockets.
Her empty chance.

The plastic ceiling
warps in the heat.


Donald Broyles - 11/09/2016

I like it!

[GeoffC]

Originally Posted by kennyc

The Morning After


America is at a Crossroads
we are a Gathering of fools
we have given the reins
of power to a madman.


Kenny A. Chaffin – 11/9/2016

You MUST have a sequel to this Kenny

[kennyc]

Originally Posted by GeoffC

You MUST have a sequel to this Kenny

A number of them actually.......thinking about Pink Pussy Hats this morning...

[GeoffC]

...

[kennyc]

Originally Posted by GeoffC

...

Pink Pussy Hats

By Women
For Women
To Take
Our Country
Back.

[GeoffC]

What do the men and the children do

[kennyc]

Originally Posted by GeoffC

What do the men and the children do

"The Women Shall Lead"

P.S. I wrote another one on this same topic for Rattle's Poets Respond weekly competition....
will post it once it gets rejected.

[GeoffC]

Where now the sanctity of the female

“Women hold up half the sky”
Chairman’s
book of blood
it told —
one child;
boys are best
there's a good girl
baby sisters sacrificed like flies

soft flowing robes, bodies
paid with gold
babes espoused
choices wed to acid burns
and knives slashing,
while honour is assuaged

black enveloped
letterboxes speak
with silent eyes
outward to
indifferent,
impotent worlds

pubertal
rite of passage
sliced on sordid floor
excision of the maid
soiled
spoiled

virgin garbage
trashed
cared-free
bought whored
for all
open up, shut up
put up

torn and chained
falsehoods whispered
riches promised
innocence ripped
on seedy beds
buckle down
unbuckled thighs

papless
clothes-horsed spindle-shanks
sweep walk—
confused, cloven cleavage
puffed with putty
crows feet murdered
false youth
vanity

“Women hold up half the sky”
said the Chairman
keep your head
below silica heights
clubless dreams
kitchen sinks
red soled shoes

To the holiest of pulpits
you dare to aspire
against the scriptures
written
in long ago times
the Word places the maid

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

raped
soiled
ground
polluted breath
sullied waters
Mother Earth
no better treated
than mothers and sisters

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

the sanctity of the female
over protected
future of species;
and
ship
through the cosmos

Chairman’s
book of blood
it told
of the flies and the
one child;
boys are best
there's a good girl
“Women hold up half the sky”


.

[kennyc]

Well done Geoff! Women do indeed hold up half the sky and likely even more.

[GeoffC]

And another ....

Where now the sanctity of the female II

What rite is this, to cut and maim
to keep control, by slice and stitch
to hold in chains, forbid true love
to bind their feet, mark worth in beasts.

What right is this, deny a life
beyond the home, beyond the clan
debarred from hope, no freedom road
exists; profaned, debased, down-classed.

What right is this, to use them sore
what words were spoke, by whom and where
or writ in olden age, to matter now;
who broke the bond from man and womb.

What rite exists, to yoke them slave
What makes you scared to let them learn
What makes you seek control by threat
of lash or lead or acid bite.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

What rite is this to mark her deeds
by pointing fingers at her grace, or say she slept
her way above the glass or daddy-rose above;
then coward, you, insult by tweet.

What right is this, behind the walls
to fist, to kick, abuse, mis-use
or groom by charm then rip the pure
perverting love by venal wiles.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

A stolen rib was wrought
fair form was brought to life
to live in equal state.
What right exists that fails to honour
the female need for our species.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

[beachwanderer]

Well, that's strong stuff again. And it makes me feel a bit uneasy about posting something rather more playful and shallow after that, but:


„There was no sign
of others there!“

he said, with laughs
and glee,

„For others tend
not care to go
where I prefer to be.

I value it, this solitude,
it keeps cheap talk away

for sometimes
in reflective mood,
for silence I do pray.

(Some hours later
I admit
this loneliness turns dull

and I return
to crowded streets
and live life to the full.)“

[GeoffC]

Good to read - thanks ....

[GeoffC]

After my rather two heavy ones - here's a ' lighter one '

The Angels’ Share

Have you felt the mountains breathe
exhale of peat and heath
entrapped within the glens , and still
the nip and fire within

Have you sipped at the mountain springs
the tears upon the braes
admired the golden hues , and the still
with the nip and fire within

Have you seen the breeze caress
the waves on barley leas
followed the tide until it stills
with a nip and fire within

Have you found the malt
at the end of the burn
where the copper brings it still
for the nip and fire within

Have you knocked on the oak
and wondered at the cask
for there’s the spirit that’s stilled
with a nip and a fire within

Have you pledged your bond
paid dues for the angels’ share
hold a toast on the tongue ; stilled -
for the nip and fire within ….

[kennyc]

.


Trump’s Universe

Bow down little bird
Snatch the bread
Bow, bow, hop, hop
Bang you’re dead


Kenny A. Chaffin – 2/2/2017