Giant fortune cookie

English: Giant fortune cookie

English: Giant fortune cookie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Peninsula” – Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson

Peninsula

Camera; seen

armed with needles so

sweet sounding; peninsula

soft & Foxed in insular

Mellisonant, a weeded field.

water torn; clear flight

a wonton wing; fortune cookies

proverbs sealed.

 Edges of mouths part; crusted

cracked, razing sun,

 edged.

vaulted words crunched.

scratched days.

Sweet Memento

rusted kisses; silver

A candied ending.

Where Love flows;

 winded

and whirling. A shot-gun

display closed.

 sold four

tribute money

then pictured; in a hard-bound book.

leaves dried and covered, lost..

left to left, sonorous;

in Gold.

still waiting at a willing well.

A dime-store summary.

The foundress of affairs.

Blessings and fortune falls.

behind a grateful glass view;

watching the sun nest,

winds and doves

 shillings. fly. stencilled.

 As scales shimmer, as

an aperture increasing;

Vows Quenched.

memoria Bound.

Red Balloon Rising by Laurel Blossom

I tied it to your wrist
With a pretty pink bow, torn off
By the first little tug of wind.
I’m sorry.
I jumped to catch it, but not soon enough.
It darted away.
It still looked large and almost within reach.
Like a heart.
Watch, I said.
You squinted your little eyes.
The balloon looked happy, waving
Good-bye.
The sky is very high today, I said.
Red went black, a polka dot,
Then not. We watched it,
Even though we couldn’t
Spot it anymore at all.
Even after that.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. Poem copyright ©2011 by Laurel Blossom, whose most recent book of poetry is Degrees of Latitude, Four Way Books, 2007. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. Poem copyright ©2011 by Laurel Blossom, whose most recent book of poetry is Degrees of Latitude, Four Way Books, 2007.

“Memories” – Poem By: Whispers in the Dark

Poem From http://PoetryPoem.Com

Each is my memory,
not unlike the figurines upon my wall.
With each sentence I remember all, an still there
are those I’ve no recollection, for I was too drunken & enraged.
For those please forgive me.
To the rage I am the slave.

Some day the rage shall be satisfied, or quenched of its thirst,
but not now, not when all are deserving of my outbursts.

So let me remind you of the darkness in men’s soul,& the many pains it may know.

Learn, & imagine what it is to be me.
Suffer the suffering in the safety of your home to make worth while my soul.
To understand the plight’s of those that know hell intimately.

For I’m in a pit you never want to be cast in.

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“The Storm” – Poem Written by: norah natty maturure

Poem From POETRYSOUP.COM

Dust turned into mud
Streaks of puddles formed
United they raced in a furor in tune to the laws of gravity
The parched earth sucked the running water
Choked and spat out the trapped air
But the water was not to be outdone
As it rushed in a melee far from the earths surface
Into choreographed gutters, trenches and reservoirs

The rain droned on
The deepest slumbers awakened
This was not a rain like any other
The roof cracks began to pour in water not droplets
Widened and rendered the roof useless
Inhabitants were drenched within four vertical walls
The wind arrived with a loud whistle
And the loud protest of roofing sheets
As they were ripped of with extreme violence
They were tossed like leaves
Until they were suddenly dropped lifeless several meters away

The wind cracked windows
Sucked out trees from the embrace of the earth
The planted crop was carried upright and life less
On a ride of its life
To be dropped as if in disgust far from the field
Those that remained in the ploughed land
Lay flat heads and body battered to submission by the pelting rain

Then like the end of the tango
The rain slowed down with contrasting grace
With extreme haste after laying to waste
Everything all had worked for

The silence of the night returned
With all things tongue tied
The morning arrived after eternity
The pale rays of dawn
Revealing the gruesome sight to all and sundry
The sorrowful disarray
Of abandoned life forms and possessions
Then far from beyond the mountain
The thunder rumbled as if in satisfaction
Of the immense destruction and impending starvation and doom

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