Welcome to Day 8 of the 2012 April Write – the Poets Jubilee Olympiad.
Today is a VERY special day. It’s a Free Verse day! Which means you are allowed to write a poem on whatever topic you feel a burning desire, need or inspiration to.
You may also continue on the same theme that another person has shared for today if you’d like to.
I hope you will have fun and really let loose with your creativity and share those poems you have been holding back so far this month.
But remember, no erotic poetry please, because we have a day reserved just for that, coming up soon!
Please watch the video and hear my piece called ‘My Little African Soul’
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3Vo4YEuJV0
Day 8 of the April Write is a Free Verse Day, with no set topic to hold you back, post on this or any other theme you like.
Angee
xoxo
The April Write 
Gay Reiser Cannon (fb group member)
AND NOW…
another day’s
anticipation
yesterday all bud gooey
today fully formed two iris hands
bow to kiss lips over golden chins
my apple crunches breakfast tart
and sweetens morning on a branch
a mockingbird makes new noise
almost like the whir of fans or starting up
my new red car’s motor and
off to meet very old friends
trilling heart to Tchaihovsky’s violin
Pinchas playing concerto with Israeli
orchestrating my day as I find them
restaurant happy fills word by history and
many by mixed up with moves and dogs
children in swimming pools or moving
where oh, Arkansas & fixing up
served with salad and quiche
again the new car honks and waving
bye the music moves to Bobby Hackett
I’ll Be Seeing You as I get home the
afternoon filters poetry of my current
floatlight and soft shadows
thinking fluttery about how
or maybe tomorrow’s an envelope
colorwrapped of then
but tastes of now
waiting for the transparent
texture of next
(c)8th April 2012 Gay Reiser Cannon
Tolu Agbelusi (fb group member)
If they told me death was the destination
I’d turn around, find another way instead
If they said my blood would suffice
I’d renegotiate, everything has another price
If I could choose gain and just skip the pain
They won’t have to ask me twice
If I was God looking down
Would I really come down to this?
Beautiful people acting ugly
Transient emotions trapping freed people
Brothers killing brothers just for money
Prosperity preachers getting richer of the poor’s pocket money
I would not come down to this
But he did
Seeing the cross he kept going
Perceiving their thirst for blood
He was forgiving
Seeing me as I am
He was accepting
There was no negotiating
No relenting
He just took the pain
Said I was worth it as his gain
So my Easter is everyday
I know I can’t repay him
My Easter is everyday
I’m thanking God Jesus saved me.
(c)8th April 2012 Tolu Agbelusi
Mark Paleologo (fb group member)
city of light
she sat back
red dragon dress
with deadly pumps
i was in
survivor’s boat
cool with a splash
bourbon cologne
and no anchor
she coos
too close
with fabulously french
intentions
paris is ours
glasses removed
the way the light
dances on the tips
of each wave are there
and i am drifting
further from land
my hands make
a decision the
small of her
back allows
where she starts
where i end
this light
i say
becomes you
(c)8th April 2012 mark palelogo
Shani Cruz (fb group member)
Truthfully
This month has brought
out the best and
worst in me
I stick it out
with conviction
while others fade
behind dishonesty
I wonder who will
take my 100 %
and triple it
wholeheartedly
without judgment
obligation or a
sense of pity
(c)8th April 2012 Shani Cruz
Justice Clarke (fb group member)
No Face Killer by Flowetic Justice
The silent stalker that lurks in the shadows of the mind
hidden away in the recess of the mental fabric
held sinfully warm under the shroud of self loathing
he is there within us all
for three are moments when we all begin to fall
the voice that wails so cruelly when we fail
the decisions made have consequences of unseen weight
the wrongs done to the good
provide the fuel for the murderer in the hood
the nightmares that plague us time after time
in the murky waters of where the mind creeps
hold the key to the cell containing our world of buried fear
the secrets held behind the public smile
the diary of the dirty deeds done so very cheep
some of us are still cursed to weep in our slumber
while others build their walls of bricks and lumber
as the killer with no face patiently waits
and looks for the exit into the reality of your day
so he can lead the way
he is there winking from the corner of the room
when the clouds turn smokey gray
he flicks the switch that causes the lights to flash
when one thinks for the briefest of moments
they cannot go on
when you hear the sadness of the sirens song
when you see yourself cast upon the river Styx
in the fallen floating memories of sifting ash
this too shall pass so it has been said
but the killer with no face dances gleefully in your head
the time when those of us ingest poison into our souls
when the veins constrict from the needles twitch
when the lungs burn hot from the putrid smoke
and the harsh winds of addiction blow
he is there with each breath puffed hard
into the billows of a ghost ship
that sails on the shivering rivers of the dead sea
waiting for you
waiting for me
to board the solace of it’s empty decks
God help us all
when the elixir of false bravado is consumed
and your head begins to swoon
until the rooms tilts on it’s axis
and the crime becomes the the sum of the common practice
and the wheel is turned
in the steel juggernaut of gas and oil driven death
weaves in the lanes in preparation to strike the innocent
so the windshield shatters and nothing seems to matter
he is there riding shotgun
hoping the next turn will meet the dead end
our sinister friend
the no face killer
and if by chance you survive the drunken race
he will still be lurking
smirking
until you learn that life is a gift given not to be taken lightly
for the killer with no face waits nightly
held tightly in our psyche
he is there in all of us so we must pray on bended knee
that he shall never be free
for we will become one of the many victims
whose names are written
on the hollow halls and grimy subway cars
lifeless billboards and tenement walls
stained words of remembrance
grafted in their bitter sweet assemnblence
but how soon they are forgotten
flesh in the cold wet earth slowing rotting
while only one visitor comes to the tombstone
unswayed in the rain by the cold grey grave
the journeyman of the mental slave
as he whispers into the chill of the cemetery
Lord help me and save me
from for the killer with no face
Thoughts of a Single Man 2012tm
Tarringo T. Vaughan (fb group member)
These Words
Sitting here thinking, reminiscing
about how back then
the world seemed cruel and life through my eyes
was filled with rules – I was a young child,
age of five and so newly alive,
taught early the streets as a source to survive
I write these words
so glad I’m alive
and as I look back at what I’ve been through,
life was hard and struggled was true
but I faced the challenge
to become someone new
sitting here listening, hearing
my heart beat proud
with palpitations of my life
thumping out loud.
Nothing came easy, even from the womb
I was scared;
the ghetto was my playground
and everything around me flawed – I was a young child,
age of five and so newly alive,
trained to stand on my own feet
driven and able to survive
I write these words
so glad I’m alive
and as I look back at what I’ve been through,
life was hard and struggle was true
but I faced the challenge
to become someone new.
Sitting here watching, seeing all I’ve done
I was able to overcome
Just to become someone.
I no longer speak with a silent tongue
as my heart studies the portrait
of a mother who died young.
So many thoughts and memories
of how we had it so rough
it is because of her that I grew to be tough—I was a young child,
age of five and so newly alive,
allowed to battle defeat
and with strength I did survive
I write these words
So glad I’m alive.
© 2012 Tarringo T. Vaughan
http://flexwriterblogsonline.net/tarringovaughan/?p=746
Halim Flowers’ write for Day 8
(written from inside a Washington DC prison)
At night sometimes……..
I think of you
And if you are alone
WHY are you alone
Or maybe that furry creature
Is asleep beside you
In your bed to keep you warm
I often wonder
How someone so wonderful
Could not experience the wonders of love
So close
So often
Every night
But then I’m reminded
Every night before my eyes close
How cold this world is
And how warm you
But how evil it all seems
To have someone like you
Sleeping all alone
And even though it would make me violently jealous
I often do wish
That it was someone else there
To keep you warm
Even if its not me
Even though I know that he will never be good enough for you
But before I doze off at night
And I’m alone in bed
I’m selfless
Because I don’t want you to feel
What I have felt
For the last sixteen years……
The feeling of loneliness at night
And in the morning……
(c)8th April 2012 Halim A Flowers
Karen Stally (fb group member)
I see in a mirror darkly
knowing only partly
yet
feeling the fullness of this weight
the entire sweet wholeness
of this state
i’ve waited…
and waited…
i’ve been learning patience
as i wonder and search for where my next break is
or when i’ll stop
waiting…
stop breaking
just STOP.
it almost feels …
like a state of weight – less – ness
as though
somewhere
out there
billions of light years away…
there’s- just – me
astronautically floating
m o t i o n s l o w e d
observing planets stars and galaxies being born
unfazed by the miracle of THIS life
existing quietly
pushed to outside of it
learning the melodies of angels
the harmonies
im soaring with eagles
seen the scurry below
as they run and they run in search of gold.
(c)April 2012 Karen Stally
Bayley Marina
I want to feel the words on the page
The images they create to blaze
I want to have them guide the way at the end of a very long day
I want to have them dance around in my head
Create colours and those little swirling things
I want them to touch the inner me
the me that is always waiting wanting to be free
Free to explore the pen on the page
Free to enjoy the colours of the day
Free to stop and think
Free to watch the day
Free to not have to play
Free to think of a different way
I just want to feel the word on the page
See them in a purple sunset haze
So please continue to play
Extend your ink for me to see
As I need to feel something, today
so won’t you please put some words on the page
let them crease my mind in a multitude of ways
(c)8th April 2012 Marina Bayley
DEMONISATION OF OUR YOUTH
ZITA HOLBOURNE, COPYRIGHT APRIL 2012
Even whilst the evidence stares them in the face
Even when the whole world’s watching the case
Even when the perpetrator admits their guilt
Even when they spurt out vile abusive filth
Even while yet another of our children lays slain
Even then they look for someone else to blame
Blame the youth
Even though in truth
They know they did nothing wrong
To them it’s a game to play along
Blame their parents
Blame their garments
Blame their communities
Blame their families
Blame hip hop and rap
Blame the hoodie and the hijab
Blame ‘stay at home’ mothers
Blame absent fathers
Blame religion and culture
Blame race and colour
Blame language and dialect
Blame it on a lack of respect
But ignore the governments that failed the youth
Ignore politicians that peddled lies not truth
Ignore the cuts that removed support for parents
Ignore the revenue from purchase of the garments
Ignore the cuts to services and communities
Ignore the poverty and stress for the families
Ignore the bosses’ profits from hip hop and rap
Ignore the prejudice of attacking the hoodie and hijab
Ignore the high cost of childcare impacting the mothers
Ignore the positive role of the good fathers
Ignore the enrichment through religion and culture
Ignore the beauty of different races and colour
Ignore the history that led to different languages and dialect
Ignore the blatant disregard hypocrisy and disrespect
Of blaming but not accepting responsibility
Of murdering but total lack of accountability
Of pillaging, stealing, injustice, corruption
Of deepening poverty and deprivation
Ignore but you can never cover up and sweep away
The brutal taking of lives and not expect to pay
For failures to prevent or see that justice is served
Because we will ensure our voices will be heard
As we speak up and out with the truth
Against the demonisation of our youth
ZITA HOLBOURNE, COPYRIGHT APRIL 2012
Lana Joseph Blue Sliding Doors
“By LJ”
Past pains leave ghost shadows lingering to plague the strong
admitting that I could no longer be strong was not an option…
I had my share of feeding egos all day long
At the head of the line, eager to welcome another vision…
there I was waiting to wear the crimson veil of another story
even then… I continued to give God the glory…
At what point does one stop spoon feeding the dead?
I always believed that soul busters only deficated on the willing… and I was not
Can a soul ever grow tired of eating lies filled with lead?
What possible gain can one achieve by staining arteries with colorful dye?
Do they not realize that we too have seen the Matrix… and choose to say NO to the Bull shyt?
I’ve been through Blue Sliding Doors and I came through by truths eye
Those ghost shadows spilled blue black blood over me
I chose clarity over strength… for I had been strong for way to long… no longer
that’s when I knelt down on bended knees and cried out master please
I was slipping to that place between dead and undead…
clarity is a good thing
I broke through the blue… my veins bled red again
No longer did I need to house the enemy in my blind bosom
I needed no more dead caucuses trying to steal what does not belong to them
my angelic sacred inner voice… god within… r
eminded me that I am His
and He is Alpha and Omega…
those who show disdain is not my beginning nor end
because I chose Him… and the inner god me… the war is already a Win
because I chose to Exit the Blue Sliding Doors… I chose Victory
I waved good-bye to my past… there’s no need to look back
there’s no need to always be strong to survive when you have Him
Why?
Because all I need to do is keep stating Facts and tell the truth!
~And So what! This is my life!
F@ck it to those who cannot understand me…
becaue they are too busy brewing negativity
Now It’s cool… because I’m through
I said bye-bye to blue sliding doors.
Copyright © 2012 LJ
MCN-LN69321960QAJS All Rights Reserved.
Chelle Lee “PUT IT ON ME”
Got me smiling
At the very thought of you
I’m caught up
In your sexiness
And the crevices
Of your sweet caress
The tenderness
Of your kisses
Have me missing you—
I’m addicted, boo…
Our bodies intertwining
Into a slow, sensual grind
And I’m craving you
Like candy—
When you plant me
‘Round your hips
Have me biting my lip
While I ride—
And cum runs down my thighs.
Don’t know what it is
But, you ‘bout it, daddy…
You had me
With the long stroke
And banged it out
‘Til the condom broke—
I’ll gladly take it
But, truth be told?
Hoping this lasts…
Without moving too fast.
(in dedication…)
“The Missing Ink”
All Rights Reserved ® 2012
Justice Chikandamina
IN YOU
In you i have seen me
Life did come to form
Now i breath these lines
Punctuated with firing desires
Would you blame me
If without mincing my words
I simply took you by the hand
And spoke directly
Looking you straight in the eyes
“No more time wasting
I really want to be your Sire!!!”
(c)April 2012 Justice Chikandamina