Tag Archives: poem

If you were mine by Abigail George

If you were mine
(for my paternal grandparents)

ol01_400_01Perhaps this is how
       my grandparents met. Perhaps, this too,
was their love song.

So, I say your name.
Mikale – but for the life of me you can’t
understand why I’m

reaching out to you like this. Why I
find you interesting (and sensitive).
Your face and hands,

wise, interesting (and sensitive)
inside your leather jacket. In your presence, I’m tongue-tied. Don’t
know what to say.

So, I talk about
everything and nothing at the same time. I think about
the fact that I don’t swim anymore.

I think about the fact
that you’re a man, who lives and builds and breathes and eats
with the desire of a man.

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Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

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Opening Pandora’s Box in your thirties by Abigail George

Opening Pandora’s Box in your thirties

There’s a loss to the windswept
  day. The waves beautiful but I
wind01_400do not want to go into the water.
  Feel it against my skin. I’m afraid I might
Drown in all of that memory. That
sly work. I feel I might get tangled
Up in the seaweed and never come
up for air again. Perhaps I will hit
My head against driftwood and lose consciousness.
I remember you touching my face.
It was only a moment. Now it’s a
memory and there’s a loss to the day.

It’s you. It’s you. The light as if from
birthday candles are punishing. You’re
a man. Thunder. Wolf-like and unhappy.
I’m a woman. Lightning. In other words
an angel. But I am also unhappy. How
to solve this elegantly. I wanted to hide
from the world. (In other words,) from
you. You’re poetry. Poetry. I say this
as if I have never experienced
Tigers of lust, pleasure, the suffering
Of pain. I loved you. Even though you were
Cold to me afterwards. I like to remember that.
You’re with another now. She’s more
woman. Less girl.

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Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

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Whispers from the Grave by Michael Lee Johnson

Whispers from the Grave
(Heart attack 50 years of age)
 
What happened to 20 acres of farmland tilted toward sun angles,
those sharp stone edges cool fall comes
frost fields covered taking ownership of rented, abused, abandoned land−
10 years Phil has been gone, DeKalb, Illinois farmer.

Did he find salvation in those gold cornfields?
October orange colors, hayrides, and pumpkin harvest
of grey, grave bones buried near the deadly bicycle ride.
Mystery did his lover Betsy
(defense, prosecuting attorney, Elgin, Illinois)
stand by his site after she went through mourning,
the grandstanding at the wake at the farm,
the dimming of all candles, incenses, and memorial shrine
she held sacred within her bedroom walls, now faded.

farm01_400_03

 

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Waking With A Poem Already In My Head by Neil Leadbeater

Waking With A Poem Already In My Head

Wednesday morning, waking with a poem
already in my head, I saw
the pond-skater
pirouetting on thin ice
and knew, as I began to write,
that I had barely scratched the surface.

 poem01_400_03

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Ovi magazine

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At this table by Bohdan Yuri

Reservations at eight
at our favorite table,
you were fashionably late,
a less than cherished fable.

you ordered the usual wine
I, a double blue label.
in our most best of times
we had feasted a very full ladle.

I persistently stare at you,
your eyes hide into the table.
I’m left with the most cruel view,
which makes this scene so able.

last night you gave your love to him,
pinning on your scarlet label.
the stinging hint of your lewd sin
is all too clear and inescapable.

what’s left is the tasteless discourse:

before you leave our table,
you will hear my terms in our divorce;
after which, I will dine alone at my table.

 table01_400

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Ovi magazine

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For a sister in faraway Johannesburg by Abigail George

For a sister in faraway Johannesburg

night01_400Look at this, handsome stranger.
Look at what I have in my hands.

The dull flame of desire. This enchantment of wildflowers.
Jean Rhys’ Dominica and her mocking

Purple sea and remember this. That children go together with the
long, tired spells of shadows on

the beach. Children go especially with the gull
that meets the Mediterranean-blue

mirror of the sky at the end of the
world. Where the clouds meet sleeping

walls of light. So, filled with light that it nourishes the soul.
Look, look what I have in my hands.

The sun, the sun. The radiant sun.
Come, come, let it nourish our souls.

 ***********************************************************************
Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

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Our Alexandria by Nikos Laios

Our Alexandria

The flame has
Dimmed,the
Lighthouse
Now gone.

homestead_400The streets
Of the cosmopolitan
City of ideas has emptied,
And the waves of wisdom
Receded.

The once bright
Flame that flickered
Against the burnished
Brass is radiant
No more.

The light
That shone on
Blooming
Geraniums and
Hyacinths that
Wreathed themselves
Around the feet of
Our desires and
Thoughts;
Their shadows
Now strolling
Through
Empty,
Arching,
Crumbling
Porticoes.

Where
Thoughts and
Desires mingled
In equal measure
To mellifluous sounds.

The Haunting
Melodies that floated
Over the room
And across the city
Like a zeppelin,
As the night breeze slowly
Undulated the soft curtains
Like the curves of an exotic dancer,
Ice cubes clinking in the glass,
Under the mournful notes of
Some sad eastern song.

Cooled by
The soft kisses
Of the once great
City,as the last beads
Of sweat danced and
Coiled themselves
Around my neck.

My mind, flying,flying
On the wings of the
Once bright light from
The Pharos that
Illuminated the
Dark recesses.

O,how I yearn
For those
Cosmopolitan
Days,for our
Alexandria.

As the dried,
Dead geraniums
And hyacinths
Tumble down
The cold and
Darkened city
Streets past
Shuttered shops.

For the flame
Has dimmed,the
Lighthouse
Now gone.

We have
Lost our
Alexandria.

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With a digital drawing from Nikos Laios

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Check Nikos Laios’ EBOOK
Ida & Her Magic Camera
is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!
life_41_400

 

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