The Poet's Revue

January (c)

2012-08-30T10:46:00.001-04:00

By Sonja Greene

This afternoon, the first day of a new year –
I’m sitting on that old trunk in your room, staring out the window, observing
two squirrels frolicking in the thawing snow
and they fascinate me simply because their lives seem so simple,
unlike yours and mine
and I realize that I may be the reason, definitely not the sole reason, but perhaps a significant reason as to why we are so complicated
and I sincerely wish that we could run around, frolicking between the trees, ours boots crunching on the fresh frost as we play, giddily –
the way we used to walk and play on the occasional excursion, like at Van Cortladnt Park or
my living room on Duncan,
or maybe we could sit in front of the fireplace, sipping cognac, getting lost in the throes of casual, uncomplicated conversation.

A blue jay flew up and sat in the pine tree next to me, just outside your window, our eyes met –
and it made me think back to when I used to look at the oak tree outside my window, listening to the robins chirp their songs –
they would always draw my mind to you.

I’m still sitting on that old trunk, silently watching you hop around the room – like that blue jay
as you clean and organize your papers and candles –
I guess desire can turn even the strongest of men into helpless children,
because right now I am trying to resist the call of the memories, as they flicker like flames,
memories made right here in this room,
that keep me craving you – right now, in this moment,
your pink socks,
your black sweatpants,
your ivory sweater, and
that black wrap that you have around your head –

I’m a sucker for simplicity
and I find you simply breathtaking,
it’s such an old feeling, thinly disguised as new, my heartbeat
quickens with déjà vu –

It’s all déjà you –
because it’s funny how now we’ve moved to your living room and there is
a conversation born out of your silence, you smile as I get voted off the island –
another epiphany that fills this time of the year with an all-too-familiar despair, but
closure is like rain,
the deluge that ensues in tormenting torrents of pain
it’s catharsis for a mind and soul on the mend
teetering the line of insanity, about to bend and possibly break for the sake of an icy heart
until an unexpected hope sparked, leaving all that has been known in part invoking the Medici –
now I am truly whole –
and I don’t need you!
not in my heart, not in my head,
not in my soul, not in my bed – instead I now
see life beyond our lies –
mine about my needing you to care and
yours about your ever really being here –

I choose to use my power to perceive
as a tool to rejoice, as opposed to grieve, to see this as my beginning, not my end
there is no reason to pretend when after thirty-one years I have finally found someone that loves me wholly
accepts every facet of my personality,
loves me jobless,
while I’m flat on my face,
does not judge me or snub her nose, then label it friendship,
someone interested in knowing me,
embraces my love and poetry, is not swayed either way about a check
and we connect on the physical, the metaphysical levels, similar enough to share eyes,
but different enough to keep it fresh and real
unlike you, she is not build up solely on sex appeal, she has a soul – and it’s so deep ~
it is so deep
and it may be true that I paid for her and my soul was the cost
but for the first time ever, in my life, I am so glad that I have lived to be your loss.

Sunset (c)

2012-07-11T22:03:00.001-04:00

By CiCi

I averted my eyes as you glanced my way
It's not the first time
Perhaps, not the last -
At least...

Yesterday, I saw you as you walked by.
Your eyes were so intent on some distant thought.
I wonder if you noticed that the sunlight had surrendered to the rain...
I wonder if you noticed the swirling droplets caught on the wind...
I wonder if you noticed me...

Slumber of Babes (c)

2012-07-06T22:12:00.001-04:00

By Cici

Lullaby and sweet dreams.
Here I stand watching -
each certain breath.

With the certitude of kings
you lie in deep repose.

The world be damned -
for all you care...

Outsider (c)

2012-06-16T15:59:00.001-04:00

By CiCi

Your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
I saw the tear tracks which riddle your cheeks -
the faint salt traces remain, despite your efforts.

Your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
I saw the slight tremor in your fingers,
as you swept a strand of hair from your face.

Your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
I've noticed this for some time.
Your laughter rings hollow, but you've kept on laughing.
I've wondered why the change -
and wished I could be the salve, whatever your wound.

Gardenia

2012-06-16T15:38:00.001-04:00

A Picture: As Succinct As a Poem

2012-04-06T22:58:00.001-04:00

Most people merely point and click when taking pictures, even some who claim to be professionals. Then there are those who see the world in such a way that the most ordinary scenery is transformed in extraordinary ways before their lenses.

Take a few moments to visit the blog at http://anchinmusings.tumblr.com/ and you will begin to view your world through new eyes of wonder and amazement!

New Discovery of Something Not Exactly New

2012-04-06T22:49:00.001-04:00

Maya Angelou is renowned for her poetry which exudes a distinct vibe that you either love or hate. I for one relish her unabashed tone and eloquent delivery so I was quite excited when I found her poem 'Phenomenal Woman'.

This poem is an excellent read for any woman who has lost her sense of self and are in need of a pick-me-up. Check it out:

Phenomenal Woman

By: Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

By- Maya Angelou

Word of the Day: Conniption

2012-03-24T21:02:00.001-04:00

Conniption: fit of hysterical excitement or anger

I'm a bit annoyed with my blogger app because I wrote this post days ago but the app did not save it.

When I was a kid at home with my parents I remember them using some words that I swore were wrong. Grant it, I've always been a bookworm and the dictionary was my best friend but since I thought they were nuts I never bothered to look up those words. Seriously when a seven year old hears "don't have a conniption fit because you can't have candy for dinner' what else would they think. Go figures though, the 'rents were not completely off their rockers after all.

Word of the Day: Proscribe

2012-03-20T14:45:00.001-04:00

Proscribe:

1. to denounce or condemn (a thing) as dangerous or harmful; prohibit.

2. to put outside the protection of the law; outlaw; banish or exile.

This was a word that I have often thought of incorrectly. I say thought because I was uncertain of the definition so I do not recall actually using it but would not really be surprised if I was guilty. For some reason, perhaps because 'scribe' means 'to write' or 'author', I thought proscribe meant 'to set a defined boundary'. As in 'I feel so trapped by these box you have proscribed for me'. Try as might though the word means nothing remotely close to my definition thereof. Alas, I stand corrected.

What's The Longest Word You Can You Make?

2012-02-04T20:13:00.000-05:00

From: Prestidigitation (pres-ti-di-gi-tay-shun)

Meaning - sleight of hand,legerdemain, skilled with your hands as with a magician or even a musician

My longest was 9 letters.

Feedback Request

2012-02-02T14:49:00.002-05:00

What would make you as a poet want to publish your work on this blog? What are your objections, if any? I would also like to hear from those who visit as to what they like, don't like, or want to see changed. Feedback can also be sent to the e- mail address of b.p.revued@gmail.com.

First Graduation ©

2012-01-28T16:20:00.000-05:00

By CiCi

(Children's literature has always been an aspiration of mine. This poem was written many years ago and based on the content you can tell that I'm a nerd. Yes, I embrace it. My hope is that parents will encourage a thirst for knowledge in their kids and nurture their creativity. Not everyone has to be a superstar but each should be able gain his/her full potential. I'm off my soapbox now.)

School is the very best place to be
There's finger painting and 1-2-3.
Always wonderful things to learn
So a fat paycheck one day I'll earn.

My teacher taught me how to spell
She was very careful we did it well.
Oh I love knowledge, I love it so
When I'm grown up, then all I'll know.

But today is my first graduation,
Everyone is giggling and like the occasion.
But I'm sad and I can't really smile
Even as I stand and start up the aisle.

Why the long face asked my teacher?
You didn't tell me nap time is now gone forever!

Little Sally's Doctor Visit ©

2012-01-23T21:49:00.002-05:00

By Cici

Dear little needle, how tiny you are
I'm not sure your medicine will get very far.
I cower at your presence, I truly must confess
that little smart I fear one can only guess.

Please little needle, make it quick this time.
or else I promise I'll not pay this doctor a dime.
Make sure the remedy brings some swift relief
or I'll for certain think this doc's a thief.

I'll try not to cry when you enter my arm
for they just might escort me to the Funny Farm.
They don't realize that we must first reason
for if we don't, I'll not be well anytime this season.

Shh, Don't Speak ©

2012-01-19T21:34:00.002-05:00

By ciCi

Lover, lay me down gently
upon thy bed of conquest.
Speak my name softly
but clearly,
so I know it's of me you're thinking.

Yes, splay your hands across my back
And envelope me,
So I forget our soon parting.
Explore my every contour
as a connoisseur to a fine wine.
Firey kisses dancing o'er me
in cascading waterfalls
that linger in secret places.

Trace the fullness of my mouth
and let me be tortured in spades.
Define the outlines of my throat
and discover the peaks and valleys
of my world are but the beginning.

Better Late Than Never...

2012-01-16T14:52:00.002-05:00

By CiCi

Hello everyone. It just dawned on me that thus far I have remained passive by only posting poems and have yet to try and connect personally with you. I would like to first say thank you for visiting and subscribing to my blog. Ever since I was a teenager, eons ago, I have been writing poetry and short stories. However, I was so afraid of my thoughts being rejected and ridiculed that I wrote in secret and buried the scraps of paper with no intent for them ever to be seen. It took a long while but I finally got it through my head that negative reviews are ok.

It is amazing how afraid we are of failure that it sometimes paralyze us to the point of never even trying. Yet we look around and see that so many people have failed, sometimes multiple times (Donald Trump comes to mind) or are not universally liked (quite a few) yet they do not allow that to stop them. My goal is not only to have a way to display my writing but more so to create an interactive forum to give voice to other writers both amateur and published alike. Here you can display your work and allow friends, family and total strangers to give their feedback. Have fun sharing your passion with others instead of hiding your work. I must emphasize though that we only want original pieces to avoid any copyright infringements.

Send all submissions to B.P.Revued@gmail.com. You may also send general feedback to the same address.

Feel free to leave your honest opinions.

The Crush ©

2012-01-10T23:51:00.002-05:00

By CiCi

(Recalling a young couple I once saw together on a foggy morning.)

We are two wisps of gossamer smoke
waltzing unaware through a blinded world.
We think we know it all right now.
Speaking boldly in casual tones
re-echoed by shapeless forms.
We are two wisps of gossamer smoke.

A thoughtless existence of just being
Feeling, dreaming, time on time, in time
We see but vaguely as through a screen
yet our vision feels unobscured.
We are but two wisps of gossamer smoke.

We are but in a thought, what we are.
Not alike, not different,
and not at all quite real.
We are unsure, we are mere children,
ignorant as to what we should do.
Awkward kisses and breathless whispers
thankfully unseen, thankfully unheard.
Glad to be two wisps of gossamer smoke.

The Cube ©

2012-01-07T16:59:00.001-05:00

By CiCi

(A note from the citizens of Cube World)

I've been sitting here all morning
trying to get my day started.
But my concentration was shattered
when my neighbor farted.
She quickly moved her chair
and shuffled some papers too.
But none of that could cover
the sudden stench of poo.

Of course I had to take a walk
to breathe some fresher air.
But there went an hour or two,
A little chitchat here and there.
By now I am a bit hungry
and must find myself a snack.
I leave for the kitchen,
and met Suzie on my way back.
We laughed about old Sally
who wears her skirts too short
and tsk tsked at nosey Dennis
who's the boss's cohort.

These people we work with!
They never get anything done.
I wonder what's their problem,
and I'm not the only one.

By now it is almost four
and I'm ready for a break.
The day has just flown by me
it's such a busy week.
My deadline's fast approaching
and my project's still not done.
I simply can't imagine
where the time has gone.

We Were Friends ©

2012-01-02T03:14:00.001-05:00

By Cici

We were friends way back when
the grass was never too tall
and the forest never too thick
and dreams came alive with the dawn.

I drank at the fountains of your laughter
and was nourished through your embrace.
Hand in hand along we went
building castles from the sands.

Many hours we whiled away
writing dreams among the stars
and volleying fantastical notions
about like a cat and its yarn.

We would be conquerors,
queens of our domain,
Riding in the highest places
in ours, an idyllic realm.

Ah, but now we sit side by side
Upon a time warped portico
Sipping our fine fare, far removed
from where we once were.

Laughter, be it our lone legacy
even as the memories fade.
Hand in hand we shall remain,
friends from another place and time.

The Old County Fair ©

2011-12-29T02:12:00.002-05:00

By Morgan Lorenzo

(Memories of childhood)

"Riddle me this

And riddle me that"

So says the man in the black hat

Waving his wand all around

If you notice,

He's not touching the ground

"What hath three eyes

But only one that opens?"

"Lad over there, pose you a guess

To win two pence?"

As if summoned, the crowd had gathered

Rapt in awe and wonder

As though naught else mattered.

His smile spanned from ear to ear

and eyes a crimson blaze.

A flourish, a bow and a wink

He was set and ready to amaze.

From his hat a rabbit appeared

And skittered across the stage

Oohs and ahhs in a percolating wave

Uttered the young to advanced in age

A dove from thin air

And a damsel sawed in twain

No one would dare challenge

This magician's reign.

As the show progressed

The spell grew stronger

And the biting Autumn cold

Was felt no longer

Warm apple cider

Wafted on the night air.

Sticky- fingered children

Were glad to be there

Cuz there was no place

Like the old county fair.

Slinking through the masses

Like ghosts on cats feet.

A bump, a nudge or even,

From under their seats.

Came the collectors

Of all that was rare and fine.

A fair was never complete

Without some of their kind.

With faces wide opened

and wallets unguarded

A fool and his money

Are so easily parted.

But let's not now grumble

And cause a big row.

Said he the magician,

Relax and enjoy the show.

Lipstick Smears ©

2011-12-20T15:14:00.001-05:00

by CiCi

Me?
I'm alright.
Don't need a thing
Ain't worried one bit.

Me?
I'm alright.
These eyes?
They're just tired.
These lips?
They don't quiver,
just cold in here I guess.

Me?
I'm alright.
I'm always alright...

2011-12-18T22:17:00.002-05:00

By Cici

(For those who remember reading the book The Scarlet Letter at some point in their life, here's an ode in remembrance thereof.)

By the end of every rainbow

Though a rainbow hath no end

Flows a melancholy river

Ever twisting but never bent

Only listing sweet sad sorrows

Yea, a woeful heart'd weep

As it creeps on through the valley

To the oceans unknown deep

Lo it echoes of a lonely past

many tears its surface saw

And its troubles just keep mounting

Unchecked by judge or law

Bank to bank it spins a yarn

Some old raconteur should tell

But none laments in tones ere truer

Ringing strong a resounding knell

Yea, this melancholy river

From a melancholy stream

Flows through time and space all weeping

In a melancholy dream

2011-12-16T10:47:00.001-05:00

by Cici

Mom's been dodging all my questions
acting strangely suspicious.
Dad's been reading the paper
but it's somehow upside down.
I am not sure what's happening
But I am quite curious.
Could it have something to do
with Christmas coming 'round?

I asked for a brand new bike.
I asked for a brother.
I told them that I would be happy
to trade in my sister.
They laughed as though it was funny
and said write to Santa.
Either one would be fine
but preferably the latter.

It's five more days 'til Christmas.
The ground is covered in snow.
The fireplace is crackling and the
tree is all aglow.
I don't know if Santa's too busy
or if he will come through.
So I am hedging my bets
and telling my Auntie too

Bright and early Christmas morning
I raced my sister down the stairs.
So I guess it will be the bike
there will be other years.
We bolted into the room
stopping short before the tree
But there was something missing
as far as I could see.
Mom and Dad were there sitting
holding hands and smiling wide.

"I hope you are excited.
You'll have a brother by July."

Puppy Love ©

2011-12-13T21:48:00.001-05:00

By Cici

A fool

I may be

to hold such love for him

A fool

to make him

the height, breadth and depthof my world

A fool

lost within the brilliant amberpools of his eyes

wanting only to be lost

and never again found

A fool

I may be

But a fool I’d rather be

than to never love

or be loved by him

2011-12-10T17:17:00.002-05:00

by Morgan Lorenzo

Don't much like these rainy days
Don't much feel like smiling

Kind of misty 'round my way
Aint much sunshine since you left

Find myself trying to dry these eyes
But the tears just wont go away

Blurb: I am an amateur poet who just loves to write and hope that others will enjoy it too.

2011-12-08T21:43:00.002-05:00

Poem by Morgan Lorenzo

I was at our favorite restaurant last night
I sat by the window just as before
The water outside was flecked with golden droplets
As it undulated in the light from our hotel room across the bay
I was in my spot; another was in yours

The Poet's Revue

January (c)

Sunset (c)

Slumber of Babes (c)

Outsider (c)

Gardenia

A Picture: As Succinct As a Poem

New Discovery of Something Not Exactly New

Word of the Day: Conniption

Word of the Day: Proscribe

What's The Longest Word You Can You Make?

Feedback Request

First Graduation ©

Little Sally's Doctor Visit ©

Shh, Don't Speak ©

Better Late Than Never...

The Crush ©

The Cube ©

We Were Friends ©

The Old County Fair ©

Lipstick Smears ©

Ode To The Scarlet Letter ©

Bobby's Christmas Wish ©

Puppy Love ©

Holiday Blues ©

A Backward Glance ©