Exceptions to the Rule

“I” before “E”
Except after “C”

WEIRD!

Proof
Positive
 Life does not
Fit any catagory
Neatly, Completely or
-Easily.

Thanksgiving

The spirit of thankfulness
Will find the mind shift
Focus on ’da positive
Like a refreshing
Rain washes
The sky
Clean

Of Death and Loss

What is the half
                   -
                 life of grief?

How much time
              Will have to pass
                                          before

The glowing
      Geiger-crackling pain
                                           Of loss

Decays to a leaden
                           mass in the soul
                 dark and dumb
                                and inert?

A quote from the Character Jiro in the novel “Better Angels” by Howard V. Hendrix

Family of Mine

Father of mine
Tell me what have we done
With wars and famine
Greed and lust
We’ve made this Hell on earth.

Brother of mine
Tell me where is the love
We hate and we fight
Sheding blood 
in the dust.

Mother of mine
Tell me where are your sons
They have faught and
They died for
An ideal and a lie.

Sister of mine
Tell me where have you gone
With sorrow and guilt
You hid in the
House that you built

Family of mine
Tell me what have we become
We are propagating misery
When we should be
Spreading love.

Inspired by of “Father of Mine” by Everyclear.
Written to the same rhythm, needs a chorus or refrain if anyone feels inspired I’m welcoming suggestions.

 

P.I.M.P.

Forming our Future Reality

In sleepy dreamscape
A myriad of time-space
This bifurcation of eternity
Reflecting our image
In infinite capacity

Subject to perception
Formed in object observation
The fabric of reality
Takes its shape
From lucid dreams
Of the Divine

Waiting upon the time
We mushroom into a world-mind
An evolution of spirit and mind
Or we die upon the wheel
Of selfish determination.

The Poetry Corner 4th Edition Volume 3

   What can I say to begin this next new installment in The Poetry Corner? It’s a cool burning excitement with which I approach this volume for I have some wonderous things and poetry to share with you. It feels like it has been an eternity since the last volume and I am eager to have this fully published upon the site, yet I find words elusive at best, and so I will skip straight to the featured poems and poets with no further adieu. 

    Unfortunately, the first poet, mentioned below, has moved his blog to private, though it was public when I had a chance to read the linked poems.  I will check back periodically to see if the site becomes public.

   With grace and beautiful rhythm Khayaali Pulao writes of the passions of love in the following three poems.  Sometimes, looking into the eyes can be a window into the soul, and so it is within the poem, “Those Eyes“, where a brief moment of eye contact seems to dilate time, and the poet finds that even eternity can be too short.  The concept of the perversion of time continues in the poem, “Woman“, where we find in short verse, a beautiful celebration of love and desire. When finally we read the words of “Notes and Songs” it becomes apparent that these written words, while forming poems of exquisite beauty, pale in comparison to the true joining of souls in love and harmony. Khayaali writes with all the desire and clarity of any of the great poets that have come before.

 

    Upon the pages of, The world as I see it, we find many a poem that asserts the purpose and value of self as well as the epic struggle with the conflicting interests of self and survival. Replete with conflict, the poem, “Nowhere to Run” leads us down a journey punctuated by fear and desperation and ending with strength and strong resolve to conquer the dichotomy of self.  The lines of “Black and White” present evidence for the truth of a colorful life, for life with out all the vibrant hues of passion and pain is really no life at all.  Lastly, but definitely not least, the poem, “This is me“, is a declaration of self and purpose, a determination that the chosen course will remain so for the intensions of the poet and damned be anyone who would demand something less than the true expression of self in art.  Bravo.

 

   Randall Dean Scott writes poetry with a very down to earth feel.  With simple words he pulls you through the all to real experiences of his life, opening a window into his soul.  Within the words of “Identity by Default” we see a young man struggle with the nurture aspect of our identity, desperately trying to remove himself from the mistakes of his parents.  Within the poem “Doomed Fools” we find commentary on the futility of man’s endless quest for immortality.  R.D. Scott speaks out about the meaningless lies we constantly surround ourselves with, condemning the pursuits of technology and myth, for we all meet the same end.  The last poem I’d like to mention is one with a bit more of a positive feel and message.  “The Top Three” definitely lives up to it’s title and shares the experience of a small victory, in that every moment is an oportunity to learn and grow, even if it does not always contain what we expected. 

Now accepting suggestions and submissions
please send to brandonstauffer@ymail.com
include link to blog containing poem 

Indecent Exposure

I’ll forego the clothing of lies
The masks we wear to disguise
The truth of our nature
So that we might be a little
More acceptible to the
Sensibilities of society

I’m going to step out in style
With some indecent exposure
And as the blood drips
With my heart on my sleeve
I’ll leave you, mouth gapping
And your indignation escaping.

there is this place…

      …pregnant with silent contemplation…

                                            …beyond the sights and sounds
                                                                                 of earth bound souls…

                 …forever shifting in the amalgam
                                of inspirations…..

…with no demands and few requests
           seeking the harmony of hearts content…

                                                         …far from the weary wonder of this world…

                           …where I take my peace.

 

Inspired by 85718, a poem by Sara Fryd

 

P.I.M.P.

the harmony of silence

Echos in my mind
This visual reverberation
Of time well spent in contemplation
Moves beyond meer understandings, and
Concepts of subjective objects and finite realities

This standing wave
This appelation of appreciation
This inertial energy, a potential pressent
Like unmolded clay awaits the master potter’s hands
Forming a vessel from the conservation of invested emotions

We arrive again
With arms wide open, and
Lips tightly sealed against intollerance
This labor of compassion just a few more steps
Down the long loving road, winding on towards enlightenment.

 

Inspired by Tree of Knowledge, a poem by Veritas Ex Logos

P.I.M.P.

How do you make love to a stranger…

Under the old oak tree where
you sat as a kid, shared your youth
Took my hand in yours, told me
All those hopes and dreams
Held close for fear of loss, or
Judging condemnation…

We took up residency together, with
Unfilled picture frames, waiting for
Memories in a myriad of color
Decorating our lives, like the bright
Vibrant colors you insisted on painting
All the starkly white walls of our life

And we looked towards the challenges
An uncertain future of wonder, with
Struggles for sure to be overcome
For I will place my heart in your hands
With faith, to love you, my beautiful
And amazing stranger.

 

Inspired by Glimpsing India, a poem by Jaymie Thorne

 

P.I.M.P.