Guest Poet: My Dad

Today, I'm featuring a poem by my Dad.  I hope you enjoy it!!!

“Of Destiny”

According to one explanation

kismet falls to predestination;

no one opts for hell

nor heaven as well,

negating a rite exculpation.

Some will chose predestination

to posit a flee from damnation;

the thesis herein

courts virtue with sin

and thus begets justification.

What value is there then in pleasure

if one has no merits to measure,

what’s good or what’s bad,

what’s joyful or sad

are factors all humans may treasure.

Though tissues of life are unknown,

We color the weaves as our own;

and it may appear

we simply are here

to harvest the seeds we have sown.

Copyright 1982 by Christian M. Yoder

Poem: What is Poetry?

Poetry.
What is poetry?
Lines of text, typed in a document
Or scrawled on a page in ink, carbon blood

I write poetry
to tell the world how I feel
What I think
To express those things that prose
simply cannot adequately convey.

Sometimes I write in cutesy rhymes,
Iambic pentameter keeping the time
With fairies, hearts, childhood dreams,
Filling up the paper, bursting out at the seams,

Sometimes I SCREAM at the world
Castigating the selfish evil
That plagues good people
Ripping apart lives
With greed.

Sometimes I whisper untold truths
That no one wants to hear
About Death, the end of things,
about the little child inside crying
about holes of darkness
waiting for one misstep
one wrong move...
then....slurp

That is why I come here,
To free my thoughts
Give comfort to those which stay hidden by day
GIve flight to those which rise up to the sun

Will you join me?

Tear off the scabs of your heart
and pour your blood down on the page
Let loose the foul beasts of your soul
To rampage, agitate, run amuk
among the tangled web of your thoughts

I do not promise that I will laugh,
I do no promise to cry,
I promise no sighs,
But this I do promise...

I will listen.

Art: "COOL!" by Philo Yan

The other day on Google +, I met a very talented artist named Philo Yan.  She said "Hello" and sent me a link to her pencil drawings.  I must admit, I love how she uses color to capture the moment.  I asked her if I could share my favorite one, a frog hanging from a small branch.  Philo nicely agreed to my request, so here is the picture, "COOL!".

Cool color coded dudette, 

Awesome colors look at that! 

Hanging loose, fancy free, 

On a little tiny tree, 

Grassy greens, 

Trickling streams. 

KatFrog shares this post, 

Such a generous host!

To see more of Philo's wonderful drawings, visit here.

Poetry: Election Dejection

The heat of summer

Fries the pavement,

Wilting flowers 

While sucking dry
Any ambient moisture.  

Election season rages on, despite this heat. 

Or the resultant drought. 

Or earthquakes in Iran. 

Or current economic troubles or triumphs.  

Election season rages on.

Lies pile onto lies,

Burying the Truth

Until the truth is no longer.

Mudslingers, naysayers, accusers, 

Political pawns willing to sacrifice their own morals

For a chance at 15 minutes of fame.

Or to be the next Sarah Palin.

Doesn't everyone want an obnoxiously colored bus with their name on it?

Local elections in July

Chase down independents,

Democrats,

Republicans,

Each one vying to get a vote

For their Favorite Cause,

Favorite Candidate,

Favorite Bill.

But no one stands willing to listen to others,

Engage in a real debate,

Reform opinions based on facts,

BE HONEST!!!

The lies of the elections

Pervade and Pervert 

That which they lie for.

The Preamble to the Constitution

Now tells its own lie.

We have no justice,

No domestic tranquility,

No common defense,

No general welfare,

For ourselves or our children.

The Bill of Rights

Now tells its own lie.

We only have rights

IF the government does not declare us terrorists.

One statement,

One word,

And we lose every right.

They say that Evil only prevails

If good people do nothing.

If good people look the other way.

What are you looking at now?

by Kathryn Patterson, 

Poem: "The Labyrinth"

I went to go exploring
The Labyrinth I had found;
In a dark cavern hidden by the river
Exposed only on tide ebb.

I told my uncle about the Labyrinth.
He pontificated on the dangerous discovery,
Presenting me with a dour picture of my looming destruction.

I told my aunt about the Labyrinth.
She uttered a few ersatz cachinnations
Before turning to my uncle to discuss their arbitrage of the morrow.

I told my mother about the Labyrinth.
She fluttered around the dining room
Ignoring my statement as she served polyglot cuisine.

I told my brother about the Labyrinth.
He flaunted a convoluted concoction concerning the creation of caverns
In a flamboyant attempt to appear erudite to his girlfriend.

I told my father about the Labyrinth.
He winked at me, promising me a grand adventure,
Before falling into a drunken stupor.

So I went to go exploring
The Labyrinth I found.
The silence promised to listen to my story as I strolled.
The shadows promised to watch me as I went down new paths.
My lantern provided my comfort as I wandered round and round.

I decided that I had found my new home.

Haiku - Mimicry

Tornadoes, earthquakes,
Fire storms, Nature apes mankind,
Destruction, death, war.

Poem: Will's Magic Potion Advert

Imagine that William Shakespeare were alive today. He might be writing the text for advertisements, catchy jingles that people will remember when shopping. Now imagine he got a job writing for the next diet craze...

**********************************************************

Blubber, blubber
Toil and trouble
Cellulose burn
Under skin and stubble

With Death by Chocolate and  
Cold Champagne,
Pickled herring,
Your BMI Bane!

When Fate brings heart attacks
That soar and surge,
Will a deadly rose help you
Poison and purge?

Grecian Formula for your hair,
Contact lenses for your eyes,
But what fool-proof plan appears in your head
To handle those rotund thighs?

My Cure-All Potion is what you Need,
100% Risk-Free Guaranteed.
It will make those stones just melt away,
Without making your wallet bleed.

Trust me.