Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should…

For, somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills…

And Father struggles daily
To live up to “HIS IMAGE”
As protector and provider
And “hero or the scrimmage”…

And perhaps that is the reason
We sometimes get the notion,
That Fathers are not subject
To the thing we call emotion,

But if you look inside Dad’s heart,
Where no one else can see
You’ll find he’s sentimental
And as “soft” as he can be…

But he’s so busy every day
In the grueling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff
To his partner and his wife…

But Fathers are just WONDERFUL
In a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments
And accolade of praise,

For the only reason Dad aspires
To fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him
And to bring them happiness…

He’s a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on
Helen Steiner Rice


I once was asked concerning love versus hate
Why does it seem that hate is so great?
While hate is a very strong emotion too
Nothing can equal love that is true

The weight of hate is very heavy to bear
While it seems like love is lighter than air
Accounts of hate make a big news headline
While actions of love you must look hard to find

But when you consider that love is patient, kind,
Envieth not, not pompous, not puffed up, not rude,
Seeketh not her own, slow to anger, thinks no evil,
Rejoices not in wrong doing, but rejoices in the truth,
Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,
Endures all things, and never fails*

You soon learn that the density of love is so much,
Although the scales be heaped with a great volume of hate
It’s catapulted by a mere measure of love’s touch,
Love strengthens the bearer so one feels not its weight


A Smile To Hold
Me In Arms
Lingers Upon My Mind…
An Emotion Of Comfort
Circular Motions
As I Rub Your Back…
A Thank You Look
Upon Your Lips
Not Spoken But Ever Felt…
Inside My Mind
The Next Step
The Lovey Dovey
In Stand Still Frozen Warmth…
Like An Escalator Upward Turn
When Emotions Move Us Up
Toward A Heaven Felt Forever…
In Reach We Love
Reflections Onward
To An Infinite Selves
From Both Sides We Effect…
Yes From Me
Perhaps You For Me
And Me For You
And In Hoping
Together In Loving
Therein Living
Directions Of Our Eyes…
Met And Held
For A Time
Travel Through The Infinite…
Mirrors Of A Definite
Of Our Hearts Chime Love
In A Present Tense Forever…
From Afar
Felt So Near
Here We Are
We Exist…

Ricardo Antunes
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What were those birds that past above
odd premonitions and old griefs?
Black birds that fled, a crow and dove,
guess were my marginal beliefs.

Two birds have passed, of color black,
straight arrows fled right before me,
Infinite trip on railway track,
transfers along sorrow for me.

Upon that train have sat the birds,
no passengers will go to stars,
only the emptiness of words,
that rhymes with unforgotten mars.

Unmoved the passengers in cars,
frozen’s the engine pilot’s gaze,
the train becomes soul’s iron bars,
deathly advancement to sins’ blaze,

The souls imprisoned trail along,
the train’s odd destiny to nights,
that wait through nothingness’ and wrongs,
our trip to reach infinite heights.

Giorgio Veneto
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I. Dead Comrades

Black bodies bubble
Silently charred
In death’s dark doorways

The bell tolls

Spasms of facial contortion
Through which they no longer smile

Under fire
Under siege

Shattered minds
All manner of broken dreams

In destiny’s web

In time
Made to die
Without hope
Unchanged by molding hands
Unsurpassed in illness

Picture a thread through a needle
The needle in your life
Poking you
Mocking your heart
Killing you

It sees beyond the facade
Through which you try to smile

II. Post traumatic Stress Disorder

The demons in the dream scream
Flickering as flames in a grate
Whirling flitting incandescence
Rising upwards
Born upwards
In an orange tinted half light
Floating upwards
Born upwards
Taunting you they float

A bed in the middle of a floor
A room with no walls
Windows with cracked pains
Shattered shards cut you
Pierce your soul
Your spirit hidden from you
You lie alone
Your head in your hands
Nail biting
Perpetual grimness

And all there is
A vision
Through mists and rain
Of words swirling
Of poetry peeping through keyholes
When you’re sleeping
Of delightful escapism and happy moments
They taunt you
And are gone
Even before hands can grasp them

Pin your thoughts to the ground
Hang your head alone
There’s no speaking when you drown

Sandford Elstone
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When Maddy becomes a wild beast,
She loves nothing more than a meaty feast.
She loves a meat pie as much as you or I,
But there is a dark secret which she hides.

Inside, she feels such immense relief,
After tucking into pork, lamb or beef.
Of meat, she just can not get enough:
Whether it’s tender or whether it’s tough.

She’ll happily eat bacon from the pan,
Or pork luncheon meat from the can.
She will often crave a juicy steak
From the very second that she wakes.

When her meat craving takes a hold,
It’s a feeling that she can’t control.
She loves to eat meat in any form,
But her intake isn’t quite the norm.

She loves sausages, gammon, and salami,
Tongue, pork faggots, and pastrami.
She loves turkey, rabbit, duck and goose;
Her favourite is burgers made from moose.

After polishing off chips and chicken,
Her greasy fingers, she will be licking.
She loves any meat, whether cooked or raw;
Having eaten her fill, she soon craves more.

Meats, of all kinds, are her faves;
About other foods, she does not rave.
To Maddy’s sensitive canine nose,
Meat smells as lovely as any rose.

At home, she eats with her fingers;
In the air, a meaty smell lingers.
Her table manners no longer exist,
As she grabs at the meat, fist after fist.

Angela Wybrow
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The alluring scent lingers in disaster’s wake,
but I shall hold my breath,
for the stench of desire will only suffocate my soul once again,
enticing aroma of a bittersweet death.
Those piecing blue sapphires picking apart my daily thoughts,
to be retarded and brain-dead the only defense,
for thinking is forever linked to feeling,
a dagger to the soul that can never make sense.
The most haunting echo’s singing a tormented serenade,
of friendship betrayed by sinful lust,
the purest words now stained by the blackness of confusion,
what I hear, never again shall I trust.
The most chilling of goosebumps dance in mockery,
a spirit trespasses my form despite inner protests to stay clear,
for as long as the unknown exists within me,
the purpose of this visit is what I fear.
The dryness of words unspoken stifle my sounds,
the bloody aftertaste of harsh words uttered in rage,
muted by a memory I can’t spit away,
I continue to lick the bars of my self-created cage.

Little King of Sorrows
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You cast upon me a spell so sublime
The spirit of life is within me now
I never felt more alive!
Beyond anything that is ideal
It is your presence taking me higher!
I know not where I am at the moment
I lost true sight of the world
Much to my surprise I didn’t realize
The mystery lies in wondering eyes
This dream that I am seeking
I shall conquer well!
Or I shall die willingly from trying!
My heart bears a mighty love
How incredibly deep are the passionate seas?

Monique Trotter
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Come to me in my dream and in the morning, i shall be well again. Come with me, stay tonight and together with a joined breath and your eyes locked in mine, reminisce of the sweetest memories… Lay with me tonight in ecstatic cuddle as the gentle breeze of the night whispers of love and our hearts bound in joyful cheers sings our sweet lullaby. Come with me tonight, take my hands, away and safe from the world we’ll sail away to an island where exists nothing but love, where the fairies of love dwells and our hearts with love abounding tell the story… Come with me my jewel, upon the wing and arrow of cupid we’ll fly away across the peak of the mountains, over the valleys and the seas, never yielding to nothing less. Come with me, my Clone of virtue Eragon of beauty Loin of jewel Lace of gold forever alluring to my heart, and together with our voice joined as one, make our ditty tone heard in joyful harmony.

Josh Erys

Yesterday when you told me hi
and flashed at me
that hundred watt smile
it did catch me by surprise.

Into momentary disequilibrium
I was suddenly thrown
because for reason unknown
you were speaking to me!

I thought, “Could this be? ”
After months of passing me by
perhaps you finally think
I’m worth your time.

As I recovered from my shock attack
and said to you hi back
my subconscious said “Yes! ”
You would make a fine new friend.

But it all made sense when you spoke again;
all you wanted was to borrow my pen.

Shaqueena Celestin
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