Poet Laureate March 2006

Forum for the Poetry Pages Poet Laureate program and Laureate archive.

Moderators: thief of dreams, negatvone

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Poet Laureate March 2006

Post by laureatevote » Mon Mar 06, 2006 9:42 am

The Poets Laureate program is a concept originated by a Poetry Pages member. It creates a "showcase" forum that the chosen poet will be able to moderate and mold as he/she wishes for a 6-month period after which the topics will be merged into an archive. The forum will then pass to the next chosen poet.

Confirmed candidates:

Tom Watson

Please register your vote for the next Poetry Pages Poet Laureate.
Last edited by laureatevote on Thu Mar 30, 2006 8:48 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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Post by laureatevote » Tue Mar 14, 2006 11:25 pm

Poet Laureate candidate: Debbie

God In His Splendor

Cold water cascading
down jagged rocks creates a raging falls
Is surrounded by
a kaleidoscope of color as autumn comes to call.
Leaves blowing in the wind,
their colors of red and gold,
A breath taking spectacle today,
for any eye to behold.

Dried leaves rustling under my feet,
the wind blowing through my hair,
Bending my head back
I take a breath without a worry or care.
The smell of fallen leaves
decaying into the ground from whence they came,
Makes my nostrils flare
with delight just the same.

The cool autumn breeze is fresh;
Taking a deep breath now and then,
I bask in all this euphoria,
I’m wishing this moment would never end.
There's a lonesome whistling sound
in the distance not too far away,
I wonder where the train is headed,
on this gorgeous autumn day.

There’s a fluttering sound in the wind,
as a flock of birds leave in full flight,
Soaring towards blue colored skies,
disappearing into warm sunlight.
Cat tails all puffed up
waiting for a strong gust of wind,
To scatter their seeds near and far,
for new growth to begin.

Courageous purple violets,
the bravest flowers I’d ever laid eyes on,
Striving to stay in bloom,
making me believe summer isn’t gone.
Even in their daring display
soon they’ll be covered in snow,
When spring arrives once more,
those violets will be the first to show.

Thus the cycle of life goes on,
the seasons come and go each year,
Twas all created in Gods own time,
for those He loves so dear.
There’s a time and a purpose under heaven,
and for me it was an appointed day,
To recognize God in His Splendor
through His beautiful autumn display.

Oh Fallen Leaf

So still and lifeless there you lay,
Vibrant colors faded away.
Returning from whence you came,
In the ground decaying.
I feel no sudden pain or grief,
Tis” but life’s cycle Oh Fallen Leaf

For The Curious Mind

Behind the rugged mountains,
a crimson sun is sinking low,
The day is almost done;
I wonder where did it go.
Robins and sparrows hush their singing
they’ve fallen fast asleep,
Crickets chirp, and toad’s croon
a song down by the creek.

Dusty blue skies have vanished
ushering in the darkest night,
And Mr. Moon with his smile
sheds a little light.
Fireflies flickering everywhere
put on a fireworks display,
Looks like they are
celebrating Victoria Day.

Like the sands of the sea,
twinkling stars fill the blackened sky,
While moths promenade around
a lit up lamp close by.
Bats appear out of no where,
giving me a fright,
So difficult to see with their camouflage
the color of the night.

An old wise owl
is perched in a tree waiting patiently,
For a tender morsel
to fill his aching tummy.
Wolves howling at the moon
create and eerie echo,
I can easily see the hand of God
everywhere I go.
The night is an adventurous time,
when creatures great and small,
Are awakened from their sleep,
as nighttime comes to call,

When the stars become dim
and Mr. Moon gives a big yawn,
‘Tis when the sun peeks over the mountain,
bringing with it the dawn.

Whether its a day filled with
sunshine or rain,
A busy day lies ahead for all,
until nighttime comes again.

For those who’ll peer into
the mysteries of God, time after time.
They'll find many surprises and wonderment
for their Curious Mind,

Honey I Believe In You

Hi honey! I’m writing you this little note to say,
Just how much I love you, and believe in you today.

It seems like only yesterday, you were here with me,
We were strolling hand in hand happy and fancy-free.

Planning our future we looked forward to the coming years,
We never thought this happiness would turn to sudden fear.

Life seemed unwavering we believed in dreams coming true,
Never would have thought our country would call on you.

Along with your comrades you battle the raging war,
Something you and I never imagined before.

Knowing where you are, I try hard to be strong,
During the day I keep busy, but the night times are so long.

Dreaming isn’t pleasant now;
I see fighter planes and war ships too,
Bullets and bombs are flying everywhere,
and I’m calling out for you.

Waking up and sobbing, I was sure you heard my cry,
Drifting back to sleep I pray the night will slip on by.

Struggling with loneliness wishing you were here with me,
Deep down inside my heart I know it’s where you must be.

I’m praying to God it’s over soon,
and you are safe from harm,
So you, my gallant soldier can hold me in your arms.

And when our country is at peace with an end to war,
I pray we’ll have faith in dreams coming true once more.

I know you have chosen to fight for what is right and true,
So in this note I send my love, and sincerely,
Honey, I believe in you.

I Love You Daddy

When I was a little girl
I imagined having a dad,
A loveable but tough guy
to protect me from those who were bad.

I wanted to feel special
in my somewhat painful world,
Have a knee to climb up on
and be daddy’s little girl.

Swimming or visiting a zoo
would be fun doing it together,
Or taking sleigh rides down the hill
in the cold of winter

Buying me a bike seemed interesting
and teaching me to ride,
Or father and daughter at the park
on the swings and slides.

I’d giggle if he pulled me in a wagon
and showed me off to all,
Smile if dad kissed my bruises
when I happened to fall.

I could listen to him
read me a story in bed,
Laugh when he tucked me under the covers,
and tap me on the head.

Most of all I wanted a daddy
who would hold me tight,
When the nightmares frightened me
in the middle of the night.

I Needed a daddy
to love me in such a bad way,
Instead of having a dad
who just turned me away.

God answered my prayers,
it broke His heart to see me cry,
And I accepted him as my Father,
as the years went by.

He loves me unconditionally
and hears me when I call,
And the greatest thing He taught me was,
How to forgive you most of all.
I love you Daddy…

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Post by laureatevote » Tue Mar 14, 2006 11:32 pm

Poet laureate candidate: Ninian

Dinner for Two

Calls exchanged – you, merely a voice
on the phone, but here I was with clammy hands
ready for a night on the town. In silence
we sit, broken by my nervous laugh
when your hand brushes mine. Your lips
smile, crinkling the corners of your eyes.

Walking through the parking lot, my eyes
cast down, I clear my throat, searching for my voice.
Trying to think of something clever, I bite my lips,
and opt instead for running my hands
through my hair. You smile at me -- your laugh,
a deep chuckle, breaking the silence.

People in the lobby greet us with stony silence,
their wait for dinner glazing over their eyes.
“How long?” you ask with a humourless laugh –
but we wait anyway, your deep voice
washing over me, as the hostess hands
you a pager, a smile tugging at her lips.

The pager buzzes early, and I lick my lips –
anticipating dinner to break the silence
that hangs between us. Your hands
guide me to a seat and for a moment our eyes
meet and somehow I find my voice –
“Thank you.” I hear someone laugh.

The woman seated next to us laughs
as her companion presses his lips
to her hand. I no longer hear his voice,
as he balances on one knee in silence.
I look away, avoiding the love in his eyes
meant for only her, as he clasps her hands.

Nerves cause me to talk with my hands
and you catch them in yours and laugh
as your water is steadied. I can’t meet your eyes
and I blush, teeth tugging nervously on my lips.
My traitorous hand lingers in yours and the silence
Is deafening -- I do not trust my voice.

The evening spirals and our eyes meet and lock in ways our hands
are unable . My husky voice is a descant to your deep laugh.
And in the end when you capture my lips, the rest is silence.

© Ninian

The Quest

She was a seeker
of meanings and connection.
Rich with words,
wanting wisdom.

He was a traveller
on a solitary path.
Content with existing,
wanting life.

Doubled passion
spanned the distance.
Created connections --
love, (in whispers).

Promises given,
hearts entwined.
Two became one,
dissolved in rhyme.

Words woven,
tales told.
Secrets revealed.
Passions bold.

Connections made,
verses penned.
Her one true love.
His journey's end.

© Ninian


Reclined, caressed by moonlight,
Marvelous beauty in profile.
A fingertip, traced down forehead,
Caught by seeking lips,
and we are laughing again
delighting in touch.
I lay my head upon your chest
entwine my legs with yours,
and listen to your heart beating.

And you,
The lost boy found,
need wander no more.

© Ninian

Fetching Leaves

A week of rain has me feeling trapped so,
I pack the camera and you,
                 a small boy not quite five,
into the car, despite your protests,
setting off out of the city.
The rain mists windshield and the wipers beat
a metronome for the quiet song on the radio.
You press your forehead to the cold window
and watch the river. The silence at the old stone
church is eerie. We pause at the gates,
holding hands, then start to walk the graveyard.
You explore, and I read the tombstones aloud.
I let you wander ahead, listening to the inner voice
that keeps me from over-protecting until
my heart stops at a headstone


and I call your name. You turn to see
I haven’t moved, smile and continue.
My hair is a wild thing unfettered,
wind-whipped around my face
hiding my tears. Your eyes of wonder
admire the cracks in the wall, trace numbers
in the tombstones with your small finger,
counting; while I trace the numbers
in my mind and pray for your future.
My camera hangs lifeless around my neck.
Our only pictures of the day captured
in the minds of a small boy,
                       not yet five,
and his mummy.

© Ninian

Chasing Trains

I stood on the platform,
the cold wind biting my cheeks to rosy red,
and watched down the tracks for the train
I felt would never arrive.

When it did, would I have the strength,
the force of will, to train my feet
in the right direction?

The god-awful impulse to simply
              fall like
                                   filling the sky,

and land delicately on the metal rail,
listening for the final clickety-clack
that would still my heart.

And what then?
Who’d remain behind?
Picking up my pieces.
Putting back the carelessly discarded
Who’d train
them? Those who
keep me
to the track?


© Ninian
Last edited by laureatevote on Tue Mar 14, 2006 11:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by laureatevote » Tue Mar 14, 2006 11:36 pm

Poet Laureate candidate: Moonflower

Dance of Life

Life is a dance
on a magic stage..
We choose the steps
and how the music plays..
Sometimes we dance too fast,
so we miss the beat..
Other times so slow, that
life goes by, while we sleep..
The stage is always changing,
but the dance goes ever on..
A magical timeless circle..
Lifes ageless dance marathon..


Night Magic

The night softly speaks to me
with whispers and tender sighs
Its darkness invites me to enter within
so I nestle deep in its magic disguise

The dusky shadows surrounding me
implore me to come and dream,
so with a blink,I am transported
to nightimes magical movie screen

On stage in the land of midnight illusions
I am free to wonder at will,
I travel boldly through time and space
and I play all my parts with expert skill

Deep within the shadows of this enchanted place
my eyes are bedazzled while the magic unfolds
I yeild to fantasies that my mind embraced,
some scary, some real, some best left untold

I float through the night on pale gossamer wings,
waving and smiling to kings and moonbeams
unshackled I travel to unchartered places,
soaring in and out of magical rainbow chases

I yearn to linger forever here, but
the night,with its magic,too soon disappears,
leaving me to ponder and to meditate..
reflecting on the magic, trying to translate

As I struggle to stay in this land of pretend,
alas, daybreaking light and reality step in,
and as the velvety night slips softly away,
one last gentle whisper I hear it say:

"Dont be sad because
the magic must end,
just know that you and I
will meet again my friend"


the greatest man

he makes coffee for her every morning
he calls to say 'i love you' every day
he cooks gourmet breakfasts on the weekends
he always finds the right words to say

he brings her flowers just because
he helps with the housework when he can
he watches the kids so she can shop alone
he loves that her skin is pale, not tan

he buys her little gifts because he wants to
he makes love to her body as if he worships her
he remembers their anniversary every single year
he just smiles at her rage when she loses her temper

he taught her to cook and how to catch a fish
he takes care of the cars the garden and the yard
he makes her laugh when she REALLY doesnt want to
he thinks she can do anything-even if its too hard

he is so much more than can ever be said
by the mere words of this simple poem
he truly is the greatest man shes ever known

and she?
over the years she has
been continually reborn
like a seedling flower she has
thrived blossomed and grown..

*this poem is dedicated to my hubby..he really is the greatest man ive ever known..*


The Final Gasp

Wounded but still walking,
heart broken, bleeding,
but still beating.
Eyes,dry on the outside,
on the inside,flooding,
but still seeing.
Soul dying..cold,numb,
becoming frozen,
but still breathing.
Life ending,fading,
without you, dead,
but still feeling...


the first tear

the first tear slides slowly down,
forging a trail through the make-up
for the others to follow...



i wanna go where the night goes
stardancing across the endless sky
i wanna know what the night knows
and be enlightened with moondust in my eyes

i wanna feel the gentle nightwinds song
carressing my skin soft and slow
i wanna peer into nights misty dawn
and be enchanted by her magic show

i wanna hear the music of the night
as it sings the earth to sleep
i wanna dream along in nights moonlight
and know the dreams are mine to keep



is that you mama?
tonight it feels like your here
i miss you mama..

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Post by laureatevote » Tue Mar 14, 2006 11:37 pm

Poet Laureate candidate: Tom Watson


Sometime after 1977, on the first day of Spring,
The sun was rising red, with black undertones
Where the moon’s setting light points a bitter satirical finger
Of orange into a single cloud, nesting alone
In a sky, seeming to fall into the turquoise sea,
Announcing the coming tribulation that was to be.

With firm resolution, hurdling the verges
Between moral right, and simple retribution,
We jumped into the devil’s lair at his urges,
And proceeded to make our contribution
To a sky that seemed to fall in a turquoise sea
Giving a glimpse of how tribulation is to be…

No birds flew in the sky that day;
And the voices of the initiated in His spirit
Whispered their prayers, continuing to obey;
While others continued in the execution of their bit
Toward the falling of the sky toward a turquoise sea,
Offering contribution toward what tribulation is to be.

Smoke soon climbed toward the fading sun
Where the sea is turning into a dark blood red
Due to the prostitution of the world, long ago begun.
The harvest of that sown is reaped by the dead;
And the execution of Armageddon begins,
As we stare into the tide of beginnings and ends.


My Pain

I know you,
You who crawls
Through my life,
Enwrapping my heart
As a snake circles an apple.

You are the voice
That tears me down,
Saying it’s my choice
That you hang around.

I live you,
Your created life
Of guilt without reason
Other than your whispered causes.

Yours is the hand
Reaching for that place,
That fastened the white band,
That covered a confused frightened face.

I hear you
Whispering in and about
My soul, keeping it close,
In your dark chosen place.

You are the love
Held with bloodied fingers
Seeking cover from the hand above
Waiting to give the hate on which you linger.

I smell you
Burning my lungs,
Cherishing each shot swallowed,
In a fire unquenchable by any emptying bottle.

Yours are the years
Held captive and lost
Denying and repressing tears
In a world lived at my family’s cost.

I leave you, pain
To be banished
Into the past where you were born,
For I am now saved - in a place you don’t belong.

You painted hate the color of love.
You protected treachery in a lie of guilt.
You put sobriety into a fog of lost days.
You made yourself the container of my life.

You no longer own the scar,
Nor the fear, nor the lost trust.
I’m dumping you, knowing what you are.
I’m taking control, leaving you in time’s dust.


I Thought of Her Today

I thought of her today
While looking out at the sunny sky,
In an unexpected way
While watching the fair goers stroll by.

She was sitting on a bench out in the sun
Holding our little Cocker so she wouldn’t run.
Enjoying the warmth, her type of fun,
While looking up at me, waving me to come.

I thought today of her bright smile
Her commanding presence, without any guile,
Her hard-edged and soft, caring style..
And she waved for me to come, and hold her a while.

The balcony was high, where I, with my tears, stood,
As the shade came to give her a concealing hood,
She rose, and with cocker in hand, waved,
And walked to where the light never moved.


Was It You?

A boy was on his bike
Riding home in the beginnings of night.
The boy was small for eight,
As was the bike, making a matching sight.
(Was it You?)

The trip crossed dirt fields, railroad tracks,
Passed houses as dark in front as in back.
Few porches had dim lights showing closed doors
And his uneasiness began to grow even more.
(Was it You?)

With only imagination to busy his young life
Nervousness pushed the pedals like a driving knife,
Up the hill and down, left and right,
Staying on the side with the most light.
(Was it You?)

And then -- it was there
After stopping for some air,
A light, as white and round as it could be,
It is true, for the boy was me.
(Was it You?)

I stared, confused, looking all around
For a flashlight giving a light impossibly round.
No beams and no blinding bulbs caught my eye
No rays shot down from the starlit sky.
(Was it You?)

When I moved, the brilliance followed
As if I and my bike were connected and hollowed
From the brightness of its white light.
And then, it was gone – leaving a normal night.
(Was it You?)

Through the years I told no one.
I kept it to myself and thought of it when alone.
Always I thought, based on all I could know,
My experience was caused by a UFO.
(Was it You?)

But, now, as I reflect upon my life
And the mercy you gave to my passing wife,
I realize how truly blessed I have been
Many times over, and over again.
(Was it You?)

I survived foster homes and missing parents,
Near alcoholism, and a general lack of good sense.
The light of your smile had guided my journey
As a light once followed a boy, a boy who was me.




Within These Three Lines
Nature lives in words and wind,
Brushing the heart's soul.


A New Song

I had no rhythm, I moved without a beat;
There was no attraction that
Made me want to move my feet,
And to get off my seat and lift my hands.

My life was muddy, its waters still...
No toe tapping, hand clapping, foot stamping
Motion of emotion moving my heart,
Giving sway, giving joyful tears of laughing…

Until you brought your band
Touched me with your hand
Showed me a new step for my feet
A new rhythm, a new beat…

There is a new song playing
And my soul is swaying
To the beat of the love within your words,
And my heart is dancing
And my heart is prancing
Jumping with the sounds I have heard.

You gave me this time
Gave this sign
Took me
Shook me
Showed me how to climb
Reach to the sky
Find the reason you had to die…

Was to return…
So I wouldn’t burn…
So I could swing and sway and cry and pray
And move beyond those dark days,

I had no rhythm, I moved without a beat,
There was no attraction that
Made me want to move my feet
And to get off my seat and lift my hands

My life was muddy, its waters still;
No toe tapping, hand clapping, foot stamping
Motion of emotion moving my heart,
Giving sway, giving joyful tears of laughing…

For there is a new song playing
Its rhythm displaying a beat proclaiming
Your love is a joy, a life enhancing
Percussion symphony of glory enhancing
Prancing to your everlasting embracing.

I want to clap, to rap, so bring my soul
Reggae my days, cruise with mellow blues
In symphonic bliss.
I want to cry softly to the country praise,
Or the hymnal blessing, giving grace.

I feel the urge to sway, to raise my hands,
To clap to the beat of a praising rock band
Dancing in a soft embrace where I stand,
Swaying with the pulsing beat of your guiding hand.

There is a new song playing
And my soul is swaying
To the beat of the love within your words,
And my heart is dancing
And my heart is prancing
Jumping with the sounds I have heard.

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Post by laureatevote » Wed Mar 15, 2006 12:12 am

Poet Laureate candidate: OriOnpheOnix

* * * * * *

A corridor - In the remoteness of darkness.
Caution! Lest ye trip on a pebble.

Slithering Serpentine Shall Summon Some
Further. Foundation Filtering Frequency.

Surpass each step upon personal discretion.
Origins of aspiration are never understood
By oval importers. Undertows unknown.

A corridor - In the remoteness of darkness.
Caution! Lest ye be wrongly manipulated.

Slithering Serpentine Shall Summon Some
Further. Frequency Finding Faculties.

Attempt to adjust - Darkness is deep.
Surrounded by something... A presence.

A corridor - In the remoteness of darkness.
Caution! Lest ye be lost in a vortex.

Slithering Serpentine Shall Summon Some
Further. Felicitous Faculties Found.

Orbs adjust - A capability’s capacity.
Tantalizing the tantamount - Of that sense.
Foreign Fragrances - For the Foreigner.

* * * * * *

Mental catacomb... Macabre grotto

Candlelit... Jaundice stains

Nocturnal angels... Bat wings

Ceiling - Floor... Galactic extensions

Artist’s confiteor... Alien artist

Slithering Serpentine Shall Summon Some
Further. Fortified fixations - Forgetting.

* * * * * *

O Linguistic portraits - Framed by space.
O Colour - With origins lying in space.

O Imported through an aid which aided -
A Creation of a creator that created.

A Scaffolding permits the vision to be visualized.
A Visionary... One that is none... Disguised.

O Anonymous anonymity... Foreverthus -
O A breed of a creed... Foreverthus -

O Shapes... O Sounds... Fortify!
O Certain sickness... Surmount... Fortify!

O Infinitude of space... Fortify!
A Phlegmatic Phantom... Destined Spectre -

A Breed of a creed... Lapis Lazuli... Fortify!
O Linear recital... Under - Over leaden heaven -

O Inch of air... Hover over furious seas -
O Susceptible skin... Purple thorns... Still unbended...

* * * * * *


Running clouds over closed eyes.
Ice of isolation encapsulates slates.
One breath left and an iron mask.
Melded in the seldom seen.
Implicitly for putrefying pain.
Quantified in an angular amnesia.

Breath escapes into the scapes -
Scraped – by the dreams I shaped –
With hands – given by the fates.

A languid lurid lunar rise - realized.
Ripped apart ravenous – by onyx eyes.

Transformation is transmigration
Of fragmentary figments.
Melded in the seldom seen.
Implicitly for putrefying pain.

Black sun – Omnipresent dawn.


Ventricular blues – Retinal insertions.
Hues of eyes of deified sorrows.
Metal petals crystallized -
Like buzzing flies – Shells - Spoken spells.

Born in her abyss.
Nurtured by her alkaline tears –
Black solar spectrums in beaming arches.

Ethereal ether holds her -
In halo stance.
Shadows she sanctifies.

Solemn as a throne of alone.
Monstrous luxury - Stilled oblivion distilled.

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The Fat Cat
Posts: 8419
Joined: Tue Dec 18, 2001 12:01 am
Tag line: Do no harm
Location: Novato, CA

Post by heinzs » Thu Mar 30, 2006 8:16 pm

voting booth has been closed. If there are any additional votes prior to announcement of the new Poet Laureate, please send them by PM to laureatevote.



Please vote for your choice for our next Poet Laureate
16% [ 4 ]
40% [ 10 ]
Tom Watson
12% [ 3 ]
28% [ 7 ]
4% [ 1 ]

Total Votes : 25
An' it harm none, do what ye will. Blessed Be.
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