Schmutt — Andy Derryberry


The alarm when I knocked on the door
The phantom under the couch
That knew when the cats wanted in
He often sqweaked like a kiddy toy

A pat on the head was his reward
For being a good guy
And it was enough for him
To be the household friend

The last time I saw him, though
He didn’t bark when I knocked
That puzzled me a little but
He got his pat on the head anyway

The Guy whose name can’t be said
Whistled for his sweet little invention
To finish his business and
Come on home

I hope there is a fine couch to sleep under
And a knock on the door occasionally
Take a nice nap there my friend
Three firm knocks; that will be me.


Life’s Footprints by Andrea Simantov

You Are a Poem by David Michael Jackson

You there,

you with your folder in your hands,


with your toolbox.

You there,

you who think you don’t matter.

You are the butterfly whose wings flutter and

cause winds to blow and rain to fall.

You are the sunshine to someone.

You are the apple falling on Newton’s head my friend.

The wind that flows from you


harder than you could ever


You are not

just one domino that knocks over another in a long endless chain.

You are

a voice in the wilderness,

a ripple in the stream,

a wave in the ocean my friend.

You are a single purple flower growing

alone in a forest,

a ray of sunlight.

You are a poem,

A poem that matters to someone,

a factor in someone’s life.



Nonsense POEM by Admin

Ah me
the sun knows me
I who was not there when.
did he say when?
oh nonsense writer
sing your nonsense
sing your song of what.
oh nonsense writer
sing your song for whom.
oh nonsense words be there on this page
this meaningless page which isn’t really
Am I really
Did he say there?
over here
yes over here
that’s it come on
over here
now that you are here
in this little box
this nonsense box
now that you are here,
Where are

how do you write a free verse poem? by H.E. Hasben

write one for me
type fast
don’t look up
take the first line as it comes
do not judge, just
hit break at the middle of
the sentence leaving
questions at the end of

Then delete the
fluttering of your own
ego, leave
a semblance of beauty
or truth behind you
and know when to
end the thing

Come Play With Me Poem by Edy Lou Benjamin

Play the song by Artvilla’s mentor Edy Lou Benjamin a.k.a Summer Breeze Guitar by David Michael Jackson

sweetgrass wafting autumn harvest
sighs with love divine, unspoken
candle light observing darkness
holds a world expectantly…

here in dark of dawns prebirth
comes a whooshing whooshing…
angel wings still flutter softly
’round the hearts of mortal man

birthing pains in nut shell open
releasing seeds to fertile Earth
even ice melts in the furnace
of the river rushing forth

time stands still but only shortly
or long if one is standing still
what clings us to a backward motion
releases as we boldly step

into the shoes of our own making
flowers need but once to bloom
in this garden of human faces
is delight of wonder…meant

hoards of angels’ singing voices
praise the passing, evening light
praise the birthing day to be
unclung to old miseries
“here,” — they gently touch my shoulders
first my left and then my right
“wings invisible will fly now
to the love that’s pulling you.”

all love is a pulling, tugging
to what calls a heart to play
see us here all tugging, pulling
one big clam shell open, closing

will you come & play?