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Name: David Felts
email: niwrid@hotmail.com
Poem: Santa Poem (A Poemy Poem of a Christmas Poem)
'Twas The night before Christmas,
As with any Christmas Eve,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Until I woke up.
I heard footsteps on my roof,
And I rushed down the stairs,
To find a figure had come down
our chimney.
Was it Santa?
Was it a man?
Neither.
It was a pig. A pig?
I was puzzled.
Somehow, I had imagined him as being much taller.
Perhaps, wearing a snow-white wig.
Name: Dennis Hardy
Email: dustandreams@hotmail.com
Poem:A BUSHY'S MENU
Have you seen those documentries
Of the great Australian bush
An' those blokes with funny hats
That always know so much?
How they tame those reptiles
that rattle round your rump;
Those flaming little mozzies
That leave you lumps and bumps,
They hide in trees so no one sees
An' chew on outback gear
Sit an' wait for floppy hats
With a grin from ear to ear.
Itch an' scratch rip an' snarl
An' they love to hear you swear.
They creek an' groan in dark of night
Wacky sounds are everywhere.
"There's tucker by the ton," they say,
An' wave their hairy arms.
They show you how easy life can be
With captivating charms.
They can trap an' skin a rabbit
In a blinking of an eye;
Show you how to cook a dish
That leaves gourmets high and dry.
There's no pots an' pans nor electric fans;
Just a dry contented smile.
You could live out here forever
There's a meal in every mile.
Next time your out there camping
Just take a good look round.
Be careful where you rest your bum.
There's funny fings creeping round.
Name: Elizabeth Dandy
Email: e.dandy@worldnet.att.net
website:home.att.net/~e.dandy/index.Elizabeth.Dandy
Poem: The Maid of Orleans
A daughter faithful and obedient,
She watched the sheep of her strict father’s herd
When words reached her she failed to understand,
Like dress in soldiers’ garb and wield a sword.
The Maid recalled the ancient prophesy
Of glory, triumph and sad earthly fate-
The voice spoke: “Hurry Joan, lest you be late
To lead your stricken land to victory”
“Go to the Dauphin who is squirming now,
Ignore if courtiers sneer or look askance,
And when you find young Charles, hail him, bow!
And then crown him at Rheims as king of France!”
“St. Michael leads your army, so fear not!
St. Catherine herself will hold your sword.
They’ll guide your horse to gallop or to trot,
Be friendly with the fighters, kind, but curt”.
The Maid again obeyed the solemn word,
And gave her army glorious victory,
And by most grueling trials undeterred
Fulfilled the prophesy and destiny.
Betrayed, - as once her Master was - the stake
Awaiting the brave champion of Love,
And bitter suffering in victory’s wake
As from her pyre’s flames soared forth the dove.
***
Name: Elizabeth Dandy
Poem: Be Yourself!
Some people want to change you,
Resenting what you are,
But you must to yourself be true-
Be with yourself au par.
Some people always will dislike
what you stand for and do,
Take all their diatribes in stride
But to yourself be true.
Let not glib competition’s elf
Your moves or words dictate,
God’s gift is unique for yourself
A summons and mandate.
So countless many ways there are
To pray, to work, to write,
But your way is your peerless star
To lead you day and night.
And should you never harvest praise,
That too is quite alright,
For some place else you are an ace,
A torch, a beacon bright.
Hold on to your Identity,
Let no-one take control,
Just be yourself, this sets you free
From injury to your soul.
Name: Frank Pennate
Email: pencon@on.aibn.com
Poem: I Love NY
Twins stretch into the sky, where friends came to laugh and sow, but now peak no more
the skyline misses a view, the harbour a light as hate came to crash a window
a beautiful sky no longer, the clouds set in, as concrete and steel fell to rest at my feet
grace came down and turned to rust
brother, sister, mother, father, son and daughter now lost in dust
the extremist delivered its seed so now our families bleed
the rain washes away this brutality done to me
the sun shines hope and glory on nine eleven for tolerance and
freedom as we all walk toward eternity
the wind blows a gentle breeze with the sweet scent of
peace
and green valleys as I live in you and you live in me and
with our friends now in Heaven
Peace
Name: Franklin Magalhaes
Email: franklin_magalhaes@hotmail.com
Poem: WINTER VIGIL
Enwrapped in hot woollen jogging pants,
leather boots and a high-collar pullover,
I read and dive into more poetry
and everything warms me on this winter night:
the clothes, my body; the poems, my soul.
The dripping of the badly fixed tap,
the ill-humoured dogs grumbling afar,
the monotonous humming of the refrigerator,
the sensual woman requesting my caresses,
all touch me softly,
cradling me, comforting me,
making my legs numb,
transporting me inebriated to another dimension.
Flash Gordon, with neither rocket nor space suit,
I wander my cosmic journey,
scanning the galaxies,
looking for the quasar
whence poems emanate
permeating the Universe.
In the apparent silence of the sleeping night,
small noises,
residues of a lively day,
tell me that I am still on the ground.
So I feel, Old Bard, my brother,
that this new day,
awaking at the rooster's call,
the roar of the first bus,
moistened by this fragrant dew,
it will be a perfect one.
Now sleep whispers to me
that I must rest, in order to be ready
to go on promoting the friendship
sowed along the ways of all the world,
collecting miracles,
living, in their plenitude, the moments
and details of this wonderfull life
that dazzles, amazes and almost smothers me.
Name: Free
Poem: One God
It is said the world was perfect once.
A brave and noble land
Every man was free
Every woman happy
Accorded by nature's wealth
And Spirit's mystery.
Then came the Priests who brought One God
A God Far Above all of the rest...
All men below- the guilty slaves of duty.
And the woman even less.
It is said that beauty is not clever
And strength an ugly force
Death is not forever
Our MOTHER EARTH is coarse
The rain is only rain
Thunder's voice too loud
SHHHH! One God is sleeping
High on a distant cloud.
Mother Earth's children are weeping
All hearts and heads are bowed...
Because God is a lonely foreign God
From a far desert land
Where he rules for cheaper wages
His winged warriors to command
The foot of God trods HEAVY on the ground.
Nothing grows here now but thorn
For his servants cut all the green groves down
A Grandiose Creator
MOST MAGNIFICENT DICTATOR
So Marvelous and Glorified
This Tyrant God's most tender mercy
Was to see His Own Son be crucified!
