An ideal of absent beat. Poem.Sonnet.Laura Lamarca

Donec_Alius_Diei_Cover

When once would I conform to such a state
as to confine such audible mistakes
than whence I came admiring this fine art,
no more a whim–thy splendor to impart.
And though thou preach in education’s name
do I become less potent or more sane,
to pander to thy utmost vantage point…
nay…I attempt thy scorn to then disjoint.
For credibility has drawn an air–
a feel as fine as grandeur, such a flare!
Shalt thou surpass this passion for defeat
and shall I sew thy weakness to up-seat.
Do not, say I, feign worth in tower’s gait
till thou hast chewed the bile that doth thee sate.

***

About The Author

Laura Lamarca is a 39 year old widowed mother of three teenagers originally hailing from the northern county of Lancashire, but now residing on the South coast of England.


Laura is a professional poet and author of three books of poetry and one Chapbook to date, the latest book was released in December 2011 by GJBPublishing.co.uk titled “Donec Alius Diei”.


Laura Lamarca


Laura is also the creator of 18 globally recognized forms of formal poetry, these include “The Licentia Rhyme Form”, the “La`Tuin” and the L`Arora” forms. She has also recently created 3 more forms…these are the “Jordec Verse”, “La Dan Form” and a collaborated and highly technical form with Poet Jem Farmer titled the “LaJemme”.



In her spare time, she teaches the art of expression through the written word to pupils all over the world at no cost to them. She also writes hugely for charity and actively supports charities that raise awareness for cancer, third world plight, dolphins and gun and knife crime.
 
She has the belief that there is a brighter day for all, given the compassion and commitment of others…one voice can raise a thousand voices, a thousand voices can raise the whole world.  She is of the belief that ultimate truth does not exist, that everything is personal perspective and probable outcome.

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Could I But Show You.Poem.Sonnet.Corey Harvard


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Could I but show you how a word can grow

into a thorn that lodges deep within 

the softest places of the hardest men,

you wouldn't be so quick to let one go.

In silences, defenseless and alone,

security and self-esteem descend;

ambitions cease and aspirations bend

in victims of a fatal verbal blow. 

 

If I could show you how a word can rise —

bring laughter, bring excitement, bring rapport,

bring nations out of poverty and war —

perhaps your speech would seek a different guise.

What problems of this world could be deterred

if we revered the value of a word?

***

Corey Harvard Image

Corey Harvard  from Mobile, Alabama, (B.A. English & Philosophy, University of South Alabama, 2012), is a young American musician, pianist, vocalist and poet. He began writing verse at age 10 and music at age 12 when his parents bought him a keyboard. He went on to win his 8th grade talent show by performing an original song. Since then, he has published poetry and prose in journals including Tales of the Talisman, Pirene’s Fountain and Sense Magazine, and he has also been featured in Alabama’s prestigious Literary Mobile, an anthology of established (historical and contemporary) southern writers. He has served as associate editor of Sonnetto Poesia and Editor-in-Chief of Oracle Fine Arts Review. In 2009, he was a Pushcart Prize nominee.

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Let the Sun set on me.Poem. Bhuwan Thapaliya.

 

Virgin dry is my throat
and anaemic the veins

that supply my semen
to your embryo.

I cannot ejaculate
a lover’s warmth in your womb

nor can I grab your breast
as they grasp the deity’s forehead.

The lips of the overhead sky bulb
are seeping the blood out of me,

and my tongue
is parched and lonely.

Let the sun
set on me.

Let its crimson sweat of ferocity
spill all over me.

My heart is ready
for the chill of the darkness.

I put my best shirt on
and wait for a bride of the light.

Let the darkness
rise from me,

the darkness that conceals
the bruises of the light.

 
 
 

Bhuwan Thapaliya works as an economist, and is the author of four poetry collections. Thapaliya’s books include the recently released Safa Tempo: Poems New and Selected (Nirala Publication, New Delhi), and Our Nepal, Our Pride (Cyberwit.net). Poetry by Thapaliya has been included in The New Pleiades Anthology of Poetry and Tonight: An Anthology of World Love Poetry, as well as in literary journals such as Urhalpool, MahMag, Kritya, FOLLY, The Vallance Review, Nuvein Magazine, Foundling Review, Poetry Life and Times, Poets Against the War, Voices in Wartime, Taj Mahal Review, and more.

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Bhuwanthapaliya picture
Author
Our Nepal, Our Pride
http://www.amazon.com/Our-Nepal-Pride-Bhuwan-Thapaliya/dp/8182531152

***

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A Hard Rain. Poem. Candice James

A hard rain pelts down
Graying the sky to charcoal
The Quay is deserted,
And somehow out of key.

I stand at the guard rail,
Collar pulled tight,
Staring at the cold river.
The wind whirls and swirls
Inviting the river into its frenzy.
The river resists, then slowly submits.
Small ripples at first
Cresting to waves;
Synchronicity somehow present
In this simple chaos.

A young girl
In a pink fleece Parka
And well worn Mukluks
Passes by;
Her eyes as vague
As fading winter sparks

The day dissolves

Night chews on the last remnants
Of a non-descript twilight.
Appetite sated,
She licks her lips
And the thunder rolls
In the bruised atmosphere
Of a hard, hard rain

 

 
2 Poets Laureate — New Westminster Poet Laureate Candice James and Canadian Parliamentary Poet Laureate Fred Wah at Royal City Literary Arts Society Setp 22, 2013 membership drive
Candice James
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Poet Laureate, New Westminster, BC

President, Royal City Literary Arts

Honorary Professor International Arts Acadamy, Greece

Board Advisor, Interantional Muse, India

Board Advisor, Federation of British Columbia Writers

Candice James is Poet Laureate of New Westminster, B.C. and President of Royal City Literary Arts Society. She is a poet, musician, songwriter and author of six poetry books A Split In The Water (Fiddlehead 1979);Inner Heart―A Journey; (2010), Bridges and Clouds (2011); Midnight Embers–A Book of Sonnets (2012); Shorelines-A Book of Villanelles (2013); and Ekphrasticism (2014).   Websites: http://saddlestone.shawwebspace.ca   and  www.candicejames.com

 

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Downtown Waco. Midnight. Heidegger Looks at the Moon. Poem. Sonnet. R.W.Haynes

 

The Bush Library really should be here,

For each dead city needs a laugh or two,

A little something so the skeletons can jeer

On nights like this when there’s little to do

And nothing to haunt but the haunting lack of hope

Where words are born to sputter anxiously

Toward brief life in some half-bungled trope

Irrecoverable etymologically.

Is there another cyclone on its way

To re-mix this desperation here?

To make words and deeds mutually obey

A dim correspondence–never more clear

Than the misshapen moon cruising so high

Over the Brazos in the hopeless Waco sky?

***

On the Savannah River 2013

***

R. W. Haynes has taught literature at Texas A&M International University since 1992.  His recent interests include the early British sonnet, and he is completing a second book on the Texas playwright and screenwriter Horton Foote (1916-2009).  In his poetry, Haynes seeks to celebrate life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness without sounding any more dissonant notes than he has to.  In fiction, he works toward grasping that part of the past which made its mark on his generation.  He enjoys teaching drama, especially the Greeks, Ibsen, and Shakespeare, and he devoutly hopes for a stunning literary Renaissance in South Texas.

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That’s Why I Write. Poem. Kwame Write Aidoo.

‘That’s why I write’

My ink flies far when I Orville write..
[That’s why I write]
It’s ideal to open up and let the brains breathe right..
[That’s why I write]

Oprah talks,  Brad Pitt acts, I write!

Weird would the world be without writers..
Like Martin’s assassination story without snipers.
What? No Bible revelations?
No Readers’ digests?
No Quran quotes?
No Daily graphics?
No music magazines?
not even Kama sutra notes?
[That’s why I write]

I don’t tittle-tattle, I’d rather scribble-scrabble
Gossips are short-lived so let my pencil prattle
Poetry paints the state of affairs, affairs of the state
So why keep a glutton crayon by a starving slate?
[That’s why I write]

Born was I the same year noble Soyinka took Nobel award
My manger must have been brushed by his white hair wand..
Toddling, I watched Efua Sutherland weave ‘Anansesem’ with her palm,
Pondering why Kwaku Ananse hid a calabash of the whole world wisdom.
[That’s why I write]

But trifling is the written when never read..
Could we have the Passover without the bread?
So read Shakespeare’s or Blakes’s! Atukwei’s Ama’s
If you’ld read none, inspire…

…………………………………………………….

Kwame11

Kwame’s love for wordplay has earned him online publications, awards from the Scrabble Association of Ghana and a couple of nicknames including Write. He is a nominee for the International Best Amateur Poet by World Poetry Organisation, a biochemist working as a health & safety consultant who believes that freelance writing, spoken word and rap are not only rich arts but tools for educating and inspiring people. Kwame Write founded Inkfluent which produced Vocal Portraits; a spoken word compilation that brought together 15 artists from 3 continents: Africa, America and Europe. When he’s not with the pen, he’s most likely playing beach soccer or making new friends over a bowl of fufu and palm wine. You can visit him at http://kwamewrite.blogspot.com/ and https://soundcloud.com/kwame-write-1

LINKS:
Twitter: @kwamewrite
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aidookwamecharles

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MY HEART IS AS… (2002).Poem. Robin Marchesi

 

My heart
Is as
The old
West pier
In Brighton.
It has been stripped down,
To bear minimum,
The structure crumbles,
Winds, Rains and Tides,
Have wrecked
Once noble
Steel girders.
The Penny arcades,
Little lights and joy rides,
Have passed into history.
Only the starlings, black clouds,
At sunset,
Visit.

My heart
Is as
The old
West Pier
In Brighton.
Shrouded in darkness,
Awaiting collapse,
It is old enough,
To remember
The little boy,
Who once played,
When the Pier
Lived,
And both made dreams,
That are now,
The Property
Of Ghosts…
 
 
Me
 
 
Robin Marchesi, born in 1951, began writing in his teens, much to the consternation of his mother, the sister of Eric Hobsbawm, the historian.

In 1992 Cosmic Books published his first book entitled  “A B C Quest”.

In 1996 March Hare Press published “Kyoto Garden” and in 1999 “My Heart is As…”

ClockTowerBooks published his Poetic Novella, “A Small Journal of Heroin Addiction”, digitally, in 2000.

Charta Books published his latest work entitled “Poet of the Building Site”, about his time working with Barry Flanagan the Sculptor of Hares, in association with the Irish Museum of Modern Art.

He is presently working on an upcoming novel entitled “A Story Made of Stone.”
 
 http://www.amazon.com/A-Small-Journal-Heroin-Addiction/product-reviews/0743300521
 
http://www.illywords.com/2011/09/down-the-rabbit-hole-a-glimpse-into-the-wonderland-of-barry-flanagan/
 
 
 
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The Insomniac’s Prayer. Poem. Video. Sara L. Russell.2000

 

The ripening berries
Summer’s last blaze
when her breath is of jasmine
and phlox is her sigh
Let me dream then,
of summer
and float through the haze
peaceful breath
bed of poppies
ceiling of blue sky


Let me float
like a feather
in the arms
of the breeze
Let me drift
like a leaf
on a tide, upstream
with the murmur of water
the soft hum of bees
in a garden 
in peace
in sleep 
in a dream


Send me love’s angels
to watch at my bed
golden of voice
and silver of wing;
two at the far corners
two at my head
with my dreams
all of heaven
when softly
they sing


Send me a light 
that can never grow dim
love, like a candle
to lighten my heart
empty my mind
of each worry and whim
and the ghosts 
of nights demons
that tear me apart


Till I float
like a feather
in the arms
of the breeze
and drift 
like a leaf
on a tide, upstream
love make me wise
through life’s cruelties
sleep dry my eyes
make me still
let me dream.

***

AKA @pinkyandrexa Poet, Artist, Cartoonist, Goth, Time Traveller. Friend of cats everywhere. Former Editor of Poetry Life & Times. Founder of http://thevideopoets.ning.com/ … See also http://creativethinkersintl.ning.com/profile/SaraLouiseRussell plus over a million poetry links online.

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Sara Louise Russell , whose internet name is “PinkyAndrexa”, is a UK poet who has earned a well-deserved reputation as a highly respected twenty-first century poetry publisher and poet. She was the founder and Editor-in-Chief of Poetry Life & Times, one of the world’s premier poetry E-zines, which ran monthly from 1998-2006 under her tutelage. She has always been in on the scene with graphic design, animation, 3D art, web design, sign writing, photography, film and poetry recital videos. Sara is founder and current editor of Paper Li.  Poetry Lifetimes and the online  Ning network The Video Poets. Her poetry has been published in Artvilla, AuthorsDen, Hello Poetry, The New Pleiades Anthology of Poetry (Describe Adonis Press, Ottawa, © 2005), Sonnetto Poesia, Word Machinist and more, as well as in several e-books by Kedco Studios Inc. (USA). Her skills as a sonneteer are particularly remarkable.

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