Oceania
Blue satin’ed palette
Air heavy, treads runneled face.
Rainbow flies piscean deep.
Joe Maverick is a freelance author, from a widely educated background. He has been writing for 27 years. He is interested in feedback from the public; readers are the reason for his writing. Some of his poems are short and succinct, others tell a story. He would like to see the literary flame burn bright in any day and age, believing that it can feed the spirit and bring enlightenment.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Haiku--By Chen-ou Liu--Canada
lunar eclipse
can my words map the contour
of a void?
_______________
a trail of scent
paving my way home
Chinese mooncakes
_______________
snow on snow ...
an African migrant
frozen in thought
_______________
rock music fills
the silence between us
smell of winter
_______________
a white butterfly
on a black butterfly...
the weight of silence
_______________
Chen-ou Liu is the author of four books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. To read more of his poems, please go to Poetry in the Moment, http://chenouliu.blogspot.com/
can my words map the contour
of a void?
_______________
a trail of scent
paving my way home
Chinese mooncakes
_______________
snow on snow ...
an African migrant
frozen in thought
_______________
rock music fills
the silence between us
smell of winter
_______________
a white butterfly
on a black butterfly...
the weight of silence
_______________
Chen-ou Liu is the author of four books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. To read more of his poems, please go to Poetry in the Moment, http://chenouliu.blogspot.com/
Special Feature--Then On--By Rene F. Dufresne (In Memory 1917-1998)--United States
Then On
To the end of their lives
these Soldiers fought,
to protect their loved ones
from the axis thoughts.
Past these very graves,
the trail leads on.
It guides their comrades
to the attack at dawn.
As each buddy passes by,
he stops, bows his head
and says a prayer..
Then on to do his share.
Corporal in WW2
Circa 1943
Thoughts from Robert Dufresne, his son--This poem was recently found by my sister in an old trunk. It was written by our father, Rene F. Dufresne, while serving in the armed forces in the front lines during WW2. He always was poetic bent but never had the time to develop it. God bless his soul and may he rest in peace.
To the end of their lives
these Soldiers fought,
to protect their loved ones
from the axis thoughts.
Past these very graves,
the trail leads on.
It guides their comrades
to the attack at dawn.
As each buddy passes by,
he stops, bows his head
and says a prayer..
Then on to do his share.
Corporal in WW2
Circa 1943
Thoughts from Robert Dufresne, his son--This poem was recently found by my sister in an old trunk. It was written by our father, Rene F. Dufresne, while serving in the armed forces in the front lines during WW2. He always was poetic bent but never had the time to develop it. God bless his soul and may he rest in peace.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Please No Empty Room--By Sara Kendrick--United States
Please No Empty Room
Let not my heart become in my old age
"An empty room, cobwebbed, and comfortless"
But an open sunny porch, a welcome sage
A loving heart to those in distress
Let not my pain sabotage my soft heart
Let me remain a gentle, kind spirit
Writing a course of good 'pon my sea chart
Let love from heart's depths to God submit
Enjoining to You oh Holy Spirit
Flow through me like a circuit open ended
This vessel delights in your benefits
Let the love seed grow with fastest speed
Let my heart not be controlled by body's pain
Fill my heart with Thy love 'til it can't contain
Note--"An empty room, cobwebbed, and comfortless"
Quote from Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sara Kendrick married young and had a family soon after. After her last child went to school, she decided to pursue her GED. A gentlemen who worked with the GED program encouraged her to enroll in college. She worked part time and cared for her family in addition to her studies. She graduated from Mercer University. Several years ago, after a health crisis, she started writing poetry.
Let not my heart become in my old age
"An empty room, cobwebbed, and comfortless"
But an open sunny porch, a welcome sage
A loving heart to those in distress
Let not my pain sabotage my soft heart
Let me remain a gentle, kind spirit
Writing a course of good 'pon my sea chart
Let love from heart's depths to God submit
Enjoining to You oh Holy Spirit
Flow through me like a circuit open ended
This vessel delights in your benefits
Let the love seed grow with fastest speed
Let my heart not be controlled by body's pain
Fill my heart with Thy love 'til it can't contain
Note--"An empty room, cobwebbed, and comfortless"
Quote from Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sara Kendrick married young and had a family soon after. After her last child went to school, she decided to pursue her GED. A gentlemen who worked with the GED program encouraged her to enroll in college. She worked part time and cared for her family in addition to her studies. She graduated from Mercer University. Several years ago, after a health crisis, she started writing poetry.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
My Precious Valentine--By Pam Murray--Canada
My Precious Valentine
The rain in the eves is our love song
Echoing through the years
Full of the ups and downs of life
Voice of all hopes and fears.
I never felt your shadow,
Only a gentle hand
And words in my ear, with laughter
Never unfair demand.
Traveling a road at sunrise
Eager to climb each hill
Comparing notes at sunset
Wanting to have our fill
Of days that we shared together;
Oh how we danced along.
Oh how the world consumed us
Filling our hearts with song.
Born in Calgary, Alberta, Pam Murray has been writing poetry since the mid-1960’s. She was married for over 41 years and has two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandson. Pam has been published in a variety of venues. Her proudest writing accomplishment was a poem she wrote for a United Way fundraiser, which was later framed with a French translation and hung on the wall of the legislature in Ottawa, Canada. To her, poetry is a transposition of a vision she sees in her mind. Writing and crocheting are her passions.
The rain in the eves is our love song
Echoing through the years
Full of the ups and downs of life
Voice of all hopes and fears.
I never felt your shadow,
Only a gentle hand
And words in my ear, with laughter
Never unfair demand.
Traveling a road at sunrise
Eager to climb each hill
Comparing notes at sunset
Wanting to have our fill
Of days that we shared together;
Oh how we danced along.
Oh how the world consumed us
Filling our hearts with song.
Born in Calgary, Alberta, Pam Murray has been writing poetry since the mid-1960’s. She was married for over 41 years and has two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandson. Pam has been published in a variety of venues. Her proudest writing accomplishment was a poem she wrote for a United Way fundraiser, which was later framed with a French translation and hung on the wall of the legislature in Ottawa, Canada. To her, poetry is a transposition of a vision she sees in her mind. Writing and crocheting are her passions.
Spring!--By Robert P. Hansen--United States
Spring!
The stubble of the earth is brittle-brown;
It’s reaching for the sky like claws of death;
The snow has long-since settled in the ground,
and budding flowers draw in their first breath.
The cold and bitterness have gone away;
The warmth of sunlight dances on my skin;
with open arms and heart, I beckon May
and relish in my new-born spirit’s din.
The life and death of nature are as one;
They blend together ‘til it’s hard to tell
where one might end the other has begun,
a cycle that continues without fail.
As winter passes over its baton,
a burst of spring is relayed on the run!
Robert P. Hansen teaches philosophy and ethics at a community college. He has had over 70 poems and 20 stories published. His science fiction novel, The Snodgrass Incident, along with collections of his poetry and stories are currently available on Kindle at amazon.com/author/rphansen.
The stubble of the earth is brittle-brown;
It’s reaching for the sky like claws of death;
The snow has long-since settled in the ground,
and budding flowers draw in their first breath.
The cold and bitterness have gone away;
The warmth of sunlight dances on my skin;
with open arms and heart, I beckon May
and relish in my new-born spirit’s din.
The life and death of nature are as one;
They blend together ‘til it’s hard to tell
where one might end the other has begun,
a cycle that continues without fail.
As winter passes over its baton,
a burst of spring is relayed on the run!
Robert P. Hansen teaches philosophy and ethics at a community college. He has had over 70 poems and 20 stories published. His science fiction novel, The Snodgrass Incident, along with collections of his poetry and stories are currently available on Kindle at amazon.com/author/rphansen.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Haiku--By Ron C. Moss--Australia
old woodcutter
a final chop echoes
in the church bell
______________
lunch with a friend
a pink balloon bounces
over fallen leaves
______________
alone now . . .
the old cat's purr
still in my palm
______________
far out to sea
a crimson sunrise
drenched with rain
______________
high country storm
flocks of sheep huddle
against the fence line
Ron C. Moss is a Tasmania visual artist, poet and lover of haiku. His poetry has won international awards and been translated into several languages. Ron's art is sold as limited edition-prints and originals. He has been featured in poetry journals and has designed several award winning poetry books. Ron is a two time winner of the Haiku Society of America International renku competition, and he is a current member on the Haiku Society of America. Please check out Ron’s website--www.ronmoss.com
a final chop echoes
in the church bell
______________
lunch with a friend
a pink balloon bounces
over fallen leaves
______________
alone now . . .
the old cat's purr
still in my palm
______________
far out to sea
a crimson sunrise
drenched with rain
______________
high country storm
flocks of sheep huddle
against the fence line
Ron C. Moss is a Tasmania visual artist, poet and lover of haiku. His poetry has won international awards and been translated into several languages. Ron's art is sold as limited edition-prints and originals. He has been featured in poetry journals and has designed several award winning poetry books. Ron is a two time winner of the Haiku Society of America International renku competition, and he is a current member on the Haiku Society of America. Please check out Ron’s website--www.ronmoss.com
Sunday, February 16, 2014
The Winners--By Linda Hurdwell--England
The Winners
Seldom do we mention weeds
That always seem to grow
Indiscreet and irksome seeds
Flamboyantly on show.
But aren’t they pretty tangled there
Brightening up a dreary day
Stand by the road without a care
Proud and blooming come what may.
Dandelion and buttercup plant
Cowslips and poppy’s too
Red and yellow heads enchant
The staid and formal view.
Let’s praise the everlasting weed
That wildly spreads such fun
With determination to succeed
And thrive beneath the sun.
Linda Hurdwell has been a widow for 5 years. She has two adult sons. Living in the English countryside, she takes her dog, Bessie, for a daily walks and that's where many of her poems and stories are born. She has always loved writing and has a few short stories published. Although now a pensioner, she enjoys working with adults with learning disabilities and running a mencap social club once a week. Her hobbies are writing, tap dancing, and going to the theatre or cinema with my friends.
Seldom do we mention weeds
That always seem to grow
Indiscreet and irksome seeds
Flamboyantly on show.
But aren’t they pretty tangled there
Brightening up a dreary day
Stand by the road without a care
Proud and blooming come what may.
Dandelion and buttercup plant
Cowslips and poppy’s too
Red and yellow heads enchant
The staid and formal view.
Let’s praise the everlasting weed
That wildly spreads such fun
With determination to succeed
And thrive beneath the sun.
Linda Hurdwell has been a widow for 5 years. She has two adult sons. Living in the English countryside, she takes her dog, Bessie, for a daily walks and that's where many of her poems and stories are born. She has always loved writing and has a few short stories published. Although now a pensioner, she enjoys working with adults with learning disabilities and running a mencap social club once a week. Her hobbies are writing, tap dancing, and going to the theatre or cinema with my friends.
A Life That Was--By David Williams--England
A Life That Was
A life that no death could ever undo
those cherished moments are frozen in time
deep in nature from that moment I knew
as in ethereal dreams life was sublime
The passing of years can only reveal
an unyielding love for life pure and true
my heart uncloaked will lay silent then kneel
endeavour to cherish sweet love anew
But winter came with a thundering chill
in a deathly push it broke a strong bond
depleting all life discarding at will
and tore at the seams till life did abscond
Memories linger like forgotten dreams
Stitching a heart that was ripped at the seams
David Williams was born in England and has resided there all of his life. He started writing poetry at the tender age of 14. He was encouraged to enter a local school poetry contest and went on to win it. In later life, he joined many local poetry groups and writers circles, eventually becoming chairman. He has had 9 poetry books published and is collating material for two more books which will hopefully be out later this year. He holds workshops to help and encourage writers to understand the many different forms of poetry. He has won many contests and is also a recognised poetry judge.
A life that no death could ever undo
those cherished moments are frozen in time
deep in nature from that moment I knew
as in ethereal dreams life was sublime
The passing of years can only reveal
an unyielding love for life pure and true
my heart uncloaked will lay silent then kneel
endeavour to cherish sweet love anew
But winter came with a thundering chill
in a deathly push it broke a strong bond
depleting all life discarding at will
and tore at the seams till life did abscond
Memories linger like forgotten dreams
Stitching a heart that was ripped at the seams
David Williams was born in England and has resided there all of his life. He started writing poetry at the tender age of 14. He was encouraged to enter a local school poetry contest and went on to win it. In later life, he joined many local poetry groups and writers circles, eventually becoming chairman. He has had 9 poetry books published and is collating material for two more books which will hopefully be out later this year. He holds workshops to help and encourage writers to understand the many different forms of poetry. He has won many contests and is also a recognised poetry judge.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
My Friend--By Terry O'Leary--France
My Friend
You shelter me in winter storms – indeed, you are my friend...
You never try to change my ways, instead you inter-blend -
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.
In spite of timid nervousness, my warps and weaves unbend;
when I’m in need, you’re everywhere, your care does not depend
on how I dress or comb my hair - I’m not a passing trend.
We needn’t wear our masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend,
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.
Sometimes I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquility which others can’t transcend.
You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout your fairyland
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in shifting sand.
With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and funny feelings I possess become your contraband.
Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends...
Terry O’Leary defines himself as "A physicist lacking gravity...".
You shelter me in winter storms – indeed, you are my friend...
You never try to change my ways, instead you inter-blend -
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.
In spite of timid nervousness, my warps and weaves unbend;
when I’m in need, you’re everywhere, your care does not depend
on how I dress or comb my hair - I’m not a passing trend.
We needn’t wear our masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend,
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.
Sometimes I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquility which others can’t transcend.
You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout your fairyland
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in shifting sand.
With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and funny feelings I possess become your contraband.
Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends...
Terry O’Leary defines himself as "A physicist lacking gravity...".
Poet of the Month--Rhoda Galgiani
Tainted Eyes ~
By Rhoda Galgiani
Tainted eyes have seen the pollution,
dumping stained memories on our earth floor
a land given to us by our creator to grow in,
establishing for future generations, calling it home
Seeing the growth of towering sky scrapers
reaching the clouds, reaching for clean air to inhale,
scorched by hot fumes from jet streams crossing the sky,
concrete floors hot, melting heat from the hurried traveler
The magnitude of our ancestor’s vision has
grown tenfold, their vision of growth for us to share
decade after decade with each other for centuries to come,
my eyes have seen continued growth of their beginnings
Purity from yesteryear spread across the land,
gradually turning to ugliness appeasing the greed
of corporate managers living in buildings to the sky,
towering, dwarfing small creature choking below in filth
Our future generations are being crushed by the
weight of the unkempt, drug user, thief and rapist
taking what they may whipping the old and less
fortunate human into a dark corner with fear
Crying to be heard the knocked around, taken
advantage of God fearing human beings,
whether a surviving man, woman or child
shouts - this is enough for all of us to bear,
this is our land, our world to love and respect…
Protect it for our babies being born for tomorrow -
before my tainted eyes go blind from the filth of today
______________
From the editor--It is my pleasure to announce that Rhoda Galgiani is February’s Poet of the Month. A gifted writer and website manager of Expressions Poetry Journal--people appreciate her talent. She helped me in the early days of Whispers, always willing to answer my website questions. Readers at Whispers enjoy her poetry. Rhoda has promoted our online journal, encouraging others to become contributors. She regularly posts encouraging comments to writers. Rhoda has earned this honor!
______________
Thoughts on “Tainted Eyes”--I discovered “Tainted Eyes” at Expressions Poetry Journal and was immediately drawn by its intensity. The poem feels like it comes from Rhoda’s soul, pouring out through a wonderful use of imagery. The universal message is profound and timeless. “Tainted Eyes” just begs one to take breath and read it again.
______________
Congratulations and thank you Rhoda! I appreciate all you do and have done for Whispers.
Sincerely,
Karen O’Leary, Editor
By Rhoda Galgiani
Tainted eyes have seen the pollution,
dumping stained memories on our earth floor
a land given to us by our creator to grow in,
establishing for future generations, calling it home
Seeing the growth of towering sky scrapers
reaching the clouds, reaching for clean air to inhale,
scorched by hot fumes from jet streams crossing the sky,
concrete floors hot, melting heat from the hurried traveler
The magnitude of our ancestor’s vision has
grown tenfold, their vision of growth for us to share
decade after decade with each other for centuries to come,
my eyes have seen continued growth of their beginnings
Purity from yesteryear spread across the land,
gradually turning to ugliness appeasing the greed
of corporate managers living in buildings to the sky,
towering, dwarfing small creature choking below in filth
Our future generations are being crushed by the
weight of the unkempt, drug user, thief and rapist
taking what they may whipping the old and less
fortunate human into a dark corner with fear
Crying to be heard the knocked around, taken
advantage of God fearing human beings,
whether a surviving man, woman or child
shouts - this is enough for all of us to bear,
this is our land, our world to love and respect…
Protect it for our babies being born for tomorrow -
before my tainted eyes go blind from the filth of today
______________
From the editor--It is my pleasure to announce that Rhoda Galgiani is February’s Poet of the Month. A gifted writer and website manager of Expressions Poetry Journal--people appreciate her talent. She helped me in the early days of Whispers, always willing to answer my website questions. Readers at Whispers enjoy her poetry. Rhoda has promoted our online journal, encouraging others to become contributors. She regularly posts encouraging comments to writers. Rhoda has earned this honor!
______________
Thoughts on “Tainted Eyes”--I discovered “Tainted Eyes” at Expressions Poetry Journal and was immediately drawn by its intensity. The poem feels like it comes from Rhoda’s soul, pouring out through a wonderful use of imagery. The universal message is profound and timeless. “Tainted Eyes” just begs one to take breath and read it again.
______________
Congratulations and thank you Rhoda! I appreciate all you do and have done for Whispers.
Sincerely,
Karen O’Leary, Editor
Friday, February 14, 2014
In All Seasons--By Karen O'Leary--United States
In All Seasons
the quill
the brush
the pen
even modern gadgets
define the season
if not the artist
it is the passion
of those who enter
into art to stamp
a vision beyond
the season
so unique
it stands
forever
Karen O'Leary is a freelance writer/editor from West Fargo, ND. Her poetry, short stories, and articles have been published in a variety of venues. She released her first book of poetry in 2011 called Whispers... published by A.P.F. Publisher. Their second project, Snippets...an anthology of short verse, contains poetry from 73 talented writers from across the world and was released in 2012. Karen is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and the Haiku Society of America.
the quill
the brush
the pen
even modern gadgets
define the season
if not the artist
it is the passion
of those who enter
into art to stamp
a vision beyond
the season
so unique
it stands
forever
Karen O'Leary is a freelance writer/editor from West Fargo, ND. Her poetry, short stories, and articles have been published in a variety of venues. She released her first book of poetry in 2011 called Whispers... published by A.P.F. Publisher. Their second project, Snippets...an anthology of short verse, contains poetry from 73 talented writers from across the world and was released in 2012. Karen is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and the Haiku Society of America.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
A Poet’s Needs--By Jan Henson--Turkey
A Poet’s Needs
A poet’s needs are many fold
Paper, pen and a well of ink,
A notebook, his ideas to hold
As he has another deep think.
Maybe a photograph will give
A nudge to his muse’s sweet themes,
Then his words will forever live
And not just wallow in his dreams.
A computer, the modern tool
Assists him with the written word,
It may even make poetry ‘cool’
And not the province of the nerd!
A keen eye on the world at large
And an ear to the spoken phrase
Make ideas rush like a depth charge
To be embossed on the white baize.
So sit a while and contemplate
As the poet’s poem you read
Just how these words that you do rate
Came from the poet’s wanted need.
Jan Henson has written poetry for a few years. She finds it an enjoyable experience. When she attended school in England (in the ‘50’s) poetry seemed such a dry medium and she wasn’t all that impressed. After school, she became a hairdresser and continued the profession after her marriage and birth of her four children. When her youngest was three, she started working nights at a nursing home. She realized her passion for the profession and became a nurse. She worked in the healthcare industry for 20 years. After her children were grown, she retired to Turkey where she currently lives.
A poet’s needs are many fold
Paper, pen and a well of ink,
A notebook, his ideas to hold
As he has another deep think.
Maybe a photograph will give
A nudge to his muse’s sweet themes,
Then his words will forever live
And not just wallow in his dreams.
A computer, the modern tool
Assists him with the written word,
It may even make poetry ‘cool’
And not the province of the nerd!
A keen eye on the world at large
And an ear to the spoken phrase
Make ideas rush like a depth charge
To be embossed on the white baize.
So sit a while and contemplate
As the poet’s poem you read
Just how these words that you do rate
Came from the poet’s wanted need.
Jan Henson has written poetry for a few years. She finds it an enjoyable experience. When she attended school in England (in the ‘50’s) poetry seemed such a dry medium and she wasn’t all that impressed. After school, she became a hairdresser and continued the profession after her marriage and birth of her four children. When her youngest was three, she started working nights at a nursing home. She realized her passion for the profession and became a nurse. She worked in the healthcare industry for 20 years. After her children were grown, she retired to Turkey where she currently lives.
Intentions--By Patricia Nolan--United States
Intentions
(haibun)
I pull on my pack and trudge along the trail slowly. Noticing. I stop to absorb the far view or to examine a mountain wildflower, inhaling its morning joy from the night rain soaked earth.
stony peaks
harbor the meadow
morning cologne
In the Ponderosa pine forest, vanilla scent perfumes a soft breeze. The rising sun sparkles a small lake visible through a clearing. A stellar jay chatters on a low branch, looking at me cautiously -- a snack perhaps. I sit on a flat, rough granite rock and munch a few rose hips berries as I unpack my paints, brushes, canvas, and set up for a contemplative day of plein-air painting. Honoring the ancients is my intention.
dawn on Lily Pad Lake
Monet's brush strokes
(Note--Haibun is a literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku.)
Patricia Nolan is a member of Poetry West in Colorado Springs and the Haiku Society of America. She paints sumi-e (Japanese ink painting), also works in oil, pastel, and acrylic and writes poems in several Asian forms, as well as other poetry, essays, and outdoor articles. Western rivers, mountains, and trails provide most of her inspiration.
(haibun)
I pull on my pack and trudge along the trail slowly. Noticing. I stop to absorb the far view or to examine a mountain wildflower, inhaling its morning joy from the night rain soaked earth.
stony peaks
harbor the meadow
morning cologne
In the Ponderosa pine forest, vanilla scent perfumes a soft breeze. The rising sun sparkles a small lake visible through a clearing. A stellar jay chatters on a low branch, looking at me cautiously -- a snack perhaps. I sit on a flat, rough granite rock and munch a few rose hips berries as I unpack my paints, brushes, canvas, and set up for a contemplative day of plein-air painting. Honoring the ancients is my intention.
dawn on Lily Pad Lake
Monet's brush strokes
(Note--Haibun is a literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku.)
Patricia Nolan is a member of Poetry West in Colorado Springs and the Haiku Society of America. She paints sumi-e (Japanese ink painting), also works in oil, pastel, and acrylic and writes poems in several Asian forms, as well as other poetry, essays, and outdoor articles. Western rivers, mountains, and trails provide most of her inspiration.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Blending Colors--By Erich J. Goller--United States
Blending Colors
(Quatrain)
Dripping rain of jeweled light
dreaming of rainbow flowers
scattered sparkle day and night
throughout colored autumn hours
Behold the sun’s brilliant rays
large sky painting on display
moonlights romantic ways
lovely bright white winter days
But when spring arrives on the scene
flowers bloom brightly and gay
all the trees and hills turned green
the blue birds happy at play
Gold and red leaves falling down
their colors are near-divine
nature wearing autumns crown
like stars ever lasting shine
Fiery sun setting for the day
quiet evening fires are aglow
clouds changing from dark to gray
diamonds sparkle on the snow
Erich J. Goller was born in Vienna, Austria. A close world war two survivor, in 1955, he immigrated to California, where he made his living as a mechanic and as an actor. He been married for 56 years, has one daughter and one son. He is a published author of seven books. He now resides In Nashville, Tennessee, still loves to write, also enjoys doing art work. His web site, www.poetvienna.com
(Quatrain)
Dripping rain of jeweled light
dreaming of rainbow flowers
scattered sparkle day and night
throughout colored autumn hours
Behold the sun’s brilliant rays
large sky painting on display
moonlights romantic ways
lovely bright white winter days
But when spring arrives on the scene
flowers bloom brightly and gay
all the trees and hills turned green
the blue birds happy at play
Gold and red leaves falling down
their colors are near-divine
nature wearing autumns crown
like stars ever lasting shine
Fiery sun setting for the day
quiet evening fires are aglow
clouds changing from dark to gray
diamonds sparkle on the snow
Erich J. Goller was born in Vienna, Austria. A close world war two survivor, in 1955, he immigrated to California, where he made his living as a mechanic and as an actor. He been married for 56 years, has one daughter and one son. He is a published author of seven books. He now resides In Nashville, Tennessee, still loves to write, also enjoys doing art work. His web site, www.poetvienna.com
Loving You--By George L. Ellison--England
Loving You
(Terza Rima)
I fell in love with you on a moonlit night
Emotions entwined in passionate embrace
The sky was clear the stars were shining so bright
Our love so strong how fast our hearts they did race
I have lived each moment to love only you
I pray each day that I see your smiling face
Every day it’s my aim in what I do
To endeavour to do the best that I can
Always be loving gentle honest and true
Be by your side at all times when you are wan
I will always try to be a gentle man
George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and short stories. He as published two books called Poetic Reminiscences and Weaving Words. George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance. He is currently working on his new project as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!
(Terza Rima)
I fell in love with you on a moonlit night
Emotions entwined in passionate embrace
The sky was clear the stars were shining so bright
Our love so strong how fast our hearts they did race
I have lived each moment to love only you
I pray each day that I see your smiling face
Every day it’s my aim in what I do
To endeavour to do the best that I can
Always be loving gentle honest and true
Be by your side at all times when you are wan
I will always try to be a gentle man
George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and short stories. He as published two books called Poetic Reminiscences and Weaving Words. George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance. He is currently working on his new project as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Following the Bard--By Zona Rowand Lawrence--United States
Following the Bard
The sins our freedom allows us to do
Often so when I am away alone
Your youth, and gentle way me does behoove
To watch your lips, my thoughts I must atone
Your sweetness leads to the line of my heart
Handsome you are, and much to be desired
Thus if a man woos, how can he depart
Until he reaches what he has aspired
Oh dear, you might consider now my plight
Hear the plea for growing old together
Your presence is so special in my life
I do not expect to change the weather
You in your manner offers love to be
Pray your steadfastness will not lie to me
After many years as a stage performer, Zona found she enjoyed writing. She studies at Paradise Valley Community College. Her work has appeared in several anthologies at the school and elsewhere. In 2004, she won $20,000.00 for her poem, “Indiscriminate Sestina.” She and her husband, Jack, are creating a Diet by Poetry Journal to help whittle away those pounds with a little rhyming fun. Last year in the Paradise Review her poem, “If He Had Hit Me”, won third place and her one act play, “A Shaggy Dog Story”, won second place.
The sins our freedom allows us to do
Often so when I am away alone
Your youth, and gentle way me does behoove
To watch your lips, my thoughts I must atone
Your sweetness leads to the line of my heart
Handsome you are, and much to be desired
Thus if a man woos, how can he depart
Until he reaches what he has aspired
Oh dear, you might consider now my plight
Hear the plea for growing old together
Your presence is so special in my life
I do not expect to change the weather
You in your manner offers love to be
Pray your steadfastness will not lie to me
After many years as a stage performer, Zona found she enjoyed writing. She studies at Paradise Valley Community College. Her work has appeared in several anthologies at the school and elsewhere. In 2004, she won $20,000.00 for her poem, “Indiscriminate Sestina.” She and her husband, Jack, are creating a Diet by Poetry Journal to help whittle away those pounds with a little rhyming fun. Last year in the Paradise Review her poem, “If He Had Hit Me”, won third place and her one act play, “A Shaggy Dog Story”, won second place.
Interlude--By Gerald A. McBreen--United States
Interlude
Drinking in her slender form
his eyes reveal his delight
His watching
has made her self-conscious
In the interlude
between looking and meeting
his eyes throw darts
like Cupid’s arrows
deep into her heart
Gerald A. McBreen found poetry after he retired from the US Postal Service. He discovered he had a flair for romance. He has been publishing for ten years with True Romance and their related magazines. He is the coordinator for Striped Water Poets. They sponsor an “open mic” every first Wednesday of the month. They also post 'Poems on Posters' around the area. In 2009 Pacific, Washington celebrated its 100th anniversary, and he was appointed Poet Laureate. (2009 - 2013)
Drinking in her slender form
his eyes reveal his delight
His watching
has made her self-conscious
In the interlude
between looking and meeting
his eyes throw darts
like Cupid’s arrows
deep into her heart
Gerald A. McBreen found poetry after he retired from the US Postal Service. He discovered he had a flair for romance. He has been publishing for ten years with True Romance and their related magazines. He is the coordinator for Striped Water Poets. They sponsor an “open mic” every first Wednesday of the month. They also post 'Poems on Posters' around the area. In 2009 Pacific, Washington celebrated its 100th anniversary, and he was appointed Poet Laureate. (2009 - 2013)
Monday, February 10, 2014
More Than A Valentine--By Connie Marcum Wong--United States
More Than A Valentine
You may love someone though parted
By many miles and many years,
And that love remains like a
Lovely tulip opening and closing
With the dawn and the dusk.
Years pass and life goes on . . .
But that love is never forgotten.
It glows with a golden light
Within the heart.
Letters need not be written,
Words need not be spoken.
Thoughts are enough to sustain that love;
Thoughts, and memories shared.
When I light a candle, it is for you
In remembrance of the burning embers
Of our love that will never grow cold,
Even as we grow old.
Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc. Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.
You may love someone though parted
By many miles and many years,
And that love remains like a
Lovely tulip opening and closing
With the dawn and the dusk.
Years pass and life goes on . . .
But that love is never forgotten.
It glows with a golden light
Within the heart.
Letters need not be written,
Words need not be spoken.
Thoughts are enough to sustain that love;
Thoughts, and memories shared.
When I light a candle, it is for you
In remembrance of the burning embers
Of our love that will never grow cold,
Even as we grow old.
Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc. Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.
Regrets--By Anna-Marie Docherty--Wales
Regrets
Once, love dreamed of,
I used to write her name
by mine, in hope she’d notice
Over and over, again, again, again.
She’d look with radiant smile
I’d do same
Would pass me by
Repeatedly, again, again, again.
Two doves we were,
both tender hearts so tame
Shy to speak
In dreams I’d call (your name) again, again, again.
So it came to be
There was no lover’s lane
As we lived our lives alone
Memories recalled – regrets, again, again, again.
Anna-Marie Docherty lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK and is often inspired by nature and the world around her. Having been writing poetry now for 4 - 5 years, her works have developed in structure and form as well as using free verse in her writing as she walks this endless art form and creativity in her thirst to further learn. Letting the pen and the muse dictate topic and form both humour, religion, nature or the serious subject might be touched upon therefore keeping the writing fresh and easy to read by those who follow. Writing both as given name above and pen name anaisnais through the net, examples of poems can be found both in Snippets, an anthology of short verse by various international poets, compiled by Karen O'Leary and Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson; also Pink Panther magazine, an anthology written by several poets and artists on feminist issues in our environment and various poems on the internet for taster.
Once, love dreamed of,
I used to write her name
by mine, in hope she’d notice
Over and over, again, again, again.
She’d look with radiant smile
I’d do same
Would pass me by
Repeatedly, again, again, again.
Two doves we were,
both tender hearts so tame
Shy to speak
In dreams I’d call (your name) again, again, again.
So it came to be
There was no lover’s lane
As we lived our lives alone
Memories recalled – regrets, again, again, again.
Anna-Marie Docherty lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK and is often inspired by nature and the world around her. Having been writing poetry now for 4 - 5 years, her works have developed in structure and form as well as using free verse in her writing as she walks this endless art form and creativity in her thirst to further learn. Letting the pen and the muse dictate topic and form both humour, religion, nature or the serious subject might be touched upon therefore keeping the writing fresh and easy to read by those who follow. Writing both as given name above and pen name anaisnais through the net, examples of poems can be found both in Snippets, an anthology of short verse by various international poets, compiled by Karen O'Leary and Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson; also Pink Panther magazine, an anthology written by several poets and artists on feminist issues in our environment and various poems on the internet for taster.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
haiku--By Sabrina West--United States
day moon
where do i look for
the missing haiku
natural food store
menopausal shopping carts
bullfighting aisle
Sabrina West is new to the world of haiku poetry. She loves nature, permaculture and is a passionate dog walker. In the face of California's current drought, she is building rain barrels and looking for all kinds of ways to conserve water.
where do i look for
the missing haiku
natural food store
menopausal shopping carts
bullfighting aisle
Sabrina West is new to the world of haiku poetry. She loves nature, permaculture and is a passionate dog walker. In the face of California's current drought, she is building rain barrels and looking for all kinds of ways to conserve water.
‘Tis Now the Hour to Rest My Head--By Suzanne Clement--United States
‘Tis Now the Hour to Rest My Head
‘Tis now the hour to rest my head
As I lay down inside my bed.
To my Heav’nly Father I pray
For He’s been with me through this day.
Forgive me for what I’ve done wrong.
Lord, be with me this whole night long.
Your great almighty, powerful eye
Looks down at me from in the sky.
Dear Christ, I know that you’re there, too.
My prayers also go to you.
Just like the Father you are there
When I put forth my evening prayer.
And as I close my eyes and sleep,
God, you and Christ, your vigils keep.
You’ll be with me this whole night through
And when the day begins anew.
Suzanne Clement is a writer from Dover, New Hampshire.
‘Tis now the hour to rest my head
As I lay down inside my bed.
To my Heav’nly Father I pray
For He’s been with me through this day.
Forgive me for what I’ve done wrong.
Lord, be with me this whole night long.
Your great almighty, powerful eye
Looks down at me from in the sky.
Dear Christ, I know that you’re there, too.
My prayers also go to you.
Just like the Father you are there
When I put forth my evening prayer.
And as I close my eyes and sleep,
God, you and Christ, your vigils keep.
You’ll be with me this whole night through
And when the day begins anew.
Suzanne Clement is a writer from Dover, New Hampshire.
Hope--By Yvonne Sparkes--England
Hope
Oh such things that touch my heart
To make the passions sing,
Like joyful sounds all nature makes
To greet the coming spring.
Revived my breast in hopeful thoughts
Projects to days ahead,
And like the Daffodil springs forth
From deep and deathly bed.
Alive I barely have the time,
For scribbling words impart
Their very soul upon this page
A message from my heart.
Waste not this life, so beautiful,
Look joy into her face,
Never look behind the shadows,
Filling empty space.
Surge forward see your dreams fulfilled,
Remembering who you are,
A part of God`s Creation, a small but shining star.
Born on Feb. 27, 1940 in Barkingside, Essex, England, Yvonne Sparkes, immigrated to New York in April, 1948 with her parents. She now resides in Chelmsford, Essex and has two sons. She has a book published by Cyberwit called Captured Images. A writer for many years, Yvonne has been published in Israel, Germany, France, Australia, America, and Britain. She has read her poetry in public at Church and Knockout Competitions. Her hobbies are travel, the arts, reading, hiking, taking her Scottish Terrier for walks, and spending time with family and friends.
Oh such things that touch my heart
To make the passions sing,
Like joyful sounds all nature makes
To greet the coming spring.
Revived my breast in hopeful thoughts
Projects to days ahead,
And like the Daffodil springs forth
From deep and deathly bed.
Alive I barely have the time,
For scribbling words impart
Their very soul upon this page
A message from my heart.
Waste not this life, so beautiful,
Look joy into her face,
Never look behind the shadows,
Filling empty space.
Surge forward see your dreams fulfilled,
Remembering who you are,
A part of God`s Creation, a small but shining star.
Born on Feb. 27, 1940 in Barkingside, Essex, England, Yvonne Sparkes, immigrated to New York in April, 1948 with her parents. She now resides in Chelmsford, Essex and has two sons. She has a book published by Cyberwit called Captured Images. A writer for many years, Yvonne has been published in Israel, Germany, France, Australia, America, and Britain. She has read her poetry in public at Church and Knockout Competitions. Her hobbies are travel, the arts, reading, hiking, taking her Scottish Terrier for walks, and spending time with family and friends.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
When My Light Burns Out--By John W. (Bill) Williams--United States
When My Light Burns Out
When I can no longer capture
The soul of God’s creations,
Nor soar like birds spreading melodies
On a spring morning
My aging mind will still rejoice
For the times I engaged in sounds
Of spring’s heartfelt songs;
When my eyesight fades I’ll still recall
With a thankful heart
How God gave me talent
To express the pleasures
Of His glorious world.
In the dawn of another day,
I’ll sit quietly, remembering
With a grateful heart
How blessed to have shared
My small treasured thoughts.
John W. (Bill) Williams is a retired language arts and children’s literature educator. He lives in Martin, GA, where he stays busy with his art and poetry. He has been published in a variety of venues.
When I can no longer capture
The soul of God’s creations,
Nor soar like birds spreading melodies
On a spring morning
My aging mind will still rejoice
For the times I engaged in sounds
Of spring’s heartfelt songs;
When my eyesight fades I’ll still recall
With a thankful heart
How God gave me talent
To express the pleasures
Of His glorious world.
In the dawn of another day,
I’ll sit quietly, remembering
With a grateful heart
How blessed to have shared
My small treasured thoughts.
John W. (Bill) Williams is a retired language arts and children’s literature educator. He lives in Martin, GA, where he stays busy with his art and poetry. He has been published in a variety of venues.
Arabella--By Gerald Heyder--United States
Arabella
“Though the flesh be broken
the spirit can fly like an eagle.”
Snow white dove void of wings,
broken heart that wants to sing.
Life is a sham for a tiny lamb
who has no legs, justice begs
compassion from those having everything.
Delicate Arabella laden with charms
was born without arms, but pity
her not for talent she has with
brush twixt toes her gift grows,
painting portraits on canvas advancing
beauty in a dismal, gloomy world.
What a pearl of a girl!
There may be Ella, Stella and Della,
but there is only one Arabella.
Thank God for Arabella!
“We must appreciate talent of others
before justifying our own.”
Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
“Though the flesh be broken
the spirit can fly like an eagle.”
Snow white dove void of wings,
broken heart that wants to sing.
Life is a sham for a tiny lamb
who has no legs, justice begs
compassion from those having everything.
Delicate Arabella laden with charms
was born without arms, but pity
her not for talent she has with
brush twixt toes her gift grows,
painting portraits on canvas advancing
beauty in a dismal, gloomy world.
What a pearl of a girl!
There may be Ella, Stella and Della,
but there is only one Arabella.
Thank God for Arabella!
“We must appreciate talent of others
before justifying our own.”
Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Love’s Trust--By Jane Richer--Canada
Love’s Trust-Acrostic Valentine
Learning to split a single heart to make room for two.
Opening two souls, for the I creature is now We.
Vanquishing the misconception that a single struggle is better.
Enriching a once incomplete life with a soul-mate that completes you.
Savoring the little moments of a shared hectic bliss.
Touching all the bases that a couple can expand on.
Realizing that two lives shared, brings you closer to finding out who you are.
United in the awareness and the desires of your life partner.
Seeking a measure of strength from each other.
Tasting the tantalizing acknowledgement that two can reap bountiful fruit.
Jane Richer is a poet and writer who lives in Alberta, Canada. She is published online and in print. She loves to poke fun at herself and rather likes to write tongue-in-cheek poetry but she will dabble in all kinds of genres to widen her creative nature. She loves to 'sister'- (write a complimentary poem) and feels that is the greatest form of acknowledgment and respect in expression for another poet's talent.
Learning to split a single heart to make room for two.
Opening two souls, for the I creature is now We.
Vanquishing the misconception that a single struggle is better.
Enriching a once incomplete life with a soul-mate that completes you.
Savoring the little moments of a shared hectic bliss.
Touching all the bases that a couple can expand on.
Realizing that two lives shared, brings you closer to finding out who you are.
United in the awareness and the desires of your life partner.
Seeking a measure of strength from each other.
Tasting the tantalizing acknowledgement that two can reap bountiful fruit.
Jane Richer is a poet and writer who lives in Alberta, Canada. She is published online and in print. She loves to poke fun at herself and rather likes to write tongue-in-cheek poetry but she will dabble in all kinds of genres to widen her creative nature. She loves to 'sister'- (write a complimentary poem) and feels that is the greatest form of acknowledgment and respect in expression for another poet's talent.
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Sheri Stanley and Kristina Hooper--United States
When You Miss A Loved One
By Sheri Stanley and Kristina Hooper
Just take a little stroll into the garden
to the Dynamite Crepe Myrtle.
Let its radiance shine upon your face.
Relax and feel the breeze, touch the smile,
and know they are there by your side.
A flutter of tears soon overwhelms
to ease the sorrow that penetrates
through your falling tears;
every tear is a memory,
gently caressing the aching heart
frozen by grief, trapped in sorrow.
The warmth permeates,
and slowly the heart begins to heal again,
a sign that life is present and worth living.
Just as the Crepe Myrtle stands strong through storms,
so shall we survive and carry on.
By Sheri Stanley and Kristina Hooper
Just take a little stroll into the garden
to the Dynamite Crepe Myrtle.
Let its radiance shine upon your face.
Relax and feel the breeze, touch the smile,
and know they are there by your side.
A flutter of tears soon overwhelms
to ease the sorrow that penetrates
through your falling tears;
every tear is a memory,
gently caressing the aching heart
frozen by grief, trapped in sorrow.
The warmth permeates,
and slowly the heart begins to heal again,
a sign that life is present and worth living.
Just as the Crepe Myrtle stands strong through storms,
so shall we survive and carry on.
My Lifeboat--By Shirley Smothers--United States
My Lifeboat
The Whirlpools of loneliness
were pulling me down.
You were my lifeboat.
With all my effort
I forced myself
to push towards you.
Your kisses, your smiles
your touch, saved me
from my lonely life.
To My Love,
Scott Smothers
Shirley Smothers is a poet. A few of her poems have appeared in Lone Stars Magazine, The Poets Art, and The Poetry Explosion Newsletter.
The Whirlpools of loneliness
were pulling me down.
You were my lifeboat.
With all my effort
I forced myself
to push towards you.
Your kisses, your smiles
your touch, saved me
from my lonely life.
To My Love,
Scott Smothers
Shirley Smothers is a poet. A few of her poems have appeared in Lone Stars Magazine, The Poets Art, and The Poetry Explosion Newsletter.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
watching--By jani johe webster--(In Memory-May 2013)--United States
watching
i will write a poem
and watch the stories of the clouds
i will watch the breeze on the tree
and i will say i love you
i will watch snow turn into rain
and rain turn into spring
and i will watch for your return
jani johe webster, my mother and the author of this poem, passed away on May 2, 2013. I thought I knew all of her poetry, but when I found "watching," I realized this was a poem written long-ago for me to find one day. It captures what I feel in her absence: the profound missing, and also the steadfast hope. Her line "i will write a poem" speaks to the poet in all of us, that no matter what sadness find us, we can remain quietly strong. We can write a poem. --Nila Webster
i will write a poem
and watch the stories of the clouds
i will watch the breeze on the tree
and i will say i love you
i will watch snow turn into rain
and rain turn into spring
and i will watch for your return
jani johe webster, my mother and the author of this poem, passed away on May 2, 2013. I thought I knew all of her poetry, but when I found "watching," I realized this was a poem written long-ago for me to find one day. It captures what I feel in her absence: the profound missing, and also the steadfast hope. Her line "i will write a poem" speaks to the poet in all of us, that no matter what sadness find us, we can remain quietly strong. We can write a poem. --Nila Webster
Winter Storm--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada
Winter Storm
Restless winter's snow covered the ground
North wind blew in another winter storm
It howled, it crawled and packed solid
Clinging where it could to frozen mother earth
Wave after wave it pounded, it bombarded
Icy pebbles scattered in all directions
Spray like mist climbed the snow dunes
As an eerie chill settled upon the land
***********************
Wind why do you blow
as if you had no soul?
You come wild with fury
making all so weary.
************************
Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on Poetry.com and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.
Restless winter's snow covered the ground
North wind blew in another winter storm
It howled, it crawled and packed solid
Clinging where it could to frozen mother earth
Wave after wave it pounded, it bombarded
Icy pebbles scattered in all directions
Spray like mist climbed the snow dunes
As an eerie chill settled upon the land
***********************
Wind why do you blow
as if you had no soul?
You come wild with fury
making all so weary.
************************
Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on Poetry.com and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.
hearts strewn...--By Maralee Gerke--United States
hearts strewn
over remnants of snow
my valentine from a mule deer
Maralee Gerke lives and writes in Madras, Oregon. She is and avid reader and gardener. She describes herself as a work in progress. Her poems have been published in Calyx, Exit Thirteen, Moonset, Bathtub Gin, Anthology, Nerve Cowboy, Avocet, and Tigers Eye. She has published two books of poems and has had poetry and prose accepted in several anthologies. Her work can be seen online at Shadow Poetry, Long Story Short, and Moontown Café. She recently recorded 4 poems for the Oregon Poetic Voices Project. They can be heard at oregonpoeticvoices.org One of her poems “Refuge”, was recently selected to be printed as a limited edition broadside by the Penland School of Crafts.
over remnants of snow
my valentine from a mule deer
Maralee Gerke lives and writes in Madras, Oregon. She is and avid reader and gardener. She describes herself as a work in progress. Her poems have been published in Calyx, Exit Thirteen, Moonset, Bathtub Gin, Anthology, Nerve Cowboy, Avocet, and Tigers Eye. She has published two books of poems and has had poetry and prose accepted in several anthologies. Her work can be seen online at Shadow Poetry, Long Story Short, and Moontown Café. She recently recorded 4 poems for the Oregon Poetic Voices Project. They can be heard at oregonpoeticvoices.org One of her poems “Refuge”, was recently selected to be printed as a limited edition broadside by the Penland School of Crafts.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Weightless--By Brian Strand--England
Weightless
Love, new love
floats on air,
thermals of desire
fuel
passion's flight;
off the wall,
out of this world,
drifting
together without
a care;
kissing,
missing minutes
become hours,
one dream becomes
another.
Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.
Love, new love
floats on air,
thermals of desire
fuel
passion's flight;
off the wall,
out of this world,
drifting
together without
a care;
kissing,
missing minutes
become hours,
one dream becomes
another.
Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.
Heavenly Valentine--By Robert Hewett Sr.--United States
Heavenly Valentine
Floating on fluffy clouds of cotton hue
You are my joyous nightly dream come true.
You fill my mind and heart with happy thoughts
A web of heavenly weave I am caught.
Let's climb the rainbow and look for the end,
Golden or not, the rainbow is our friend.
Let’s play and skip and stroll and stay all day
Skipping along the endless Milky Way.
We will hitch a ride on a falling star
Returning to Earth better off by far.
Lend your loving heart to me forever
Be MY True Valentine, leave me never.
Robert Hewett Sr. was born in 1933 on a Texas cotton farm. He moved to Oklahoma City at Age 14 and entered the U. S Army from there in 1953. Robert has been writing poetry and short stories for his family and himself since his teen years, but is just now publishing his collection of works. His hobbies include writing poetry and stories; clock and watch collections; gardening and growing flowers and shrubs from cuttings. Most of his poetry tells a story, a gift from his father who was a master story teller. He has received numerous awards for his work in his professional life and for his writing. You can find some of his writings at "roberthewettsr.hubpages.com"
Floating on fluffy clouds of cotton hue
You are my joyous nightly dream come true.
You fill my mind and heart with happy thoughts
A web of heavenly weave I am caught.
Let's climb the rainbow and look for the end,
Golden or not, the rainbow is our friend.
Let’s play and skip and stroll and stay all day
Skipping along the endless Milky Way.
We will hitch a ride on a falling star
Returning to Earth better off by far.
Lend your loving heart to me forever
Be MY True Valentine, leave me never.
Robert Hewett Sr. was born in 1933 on a Texas cotton farm. He moved to Oklahoma City at Age 14 and entered the U. S Army from there in 1953. Robert has been writing poetry and short stories for his family and himself since his teen years, but is just now publishing his collection of works. His hobbies include writing poetry and stories; clock and watch collections; gardening and growing flowers and shrubs from cuttings. Most of his poetry tells a story, a gift from his father who was a master story teller. He has received numerous awards for his work in his professional life and for his writing. You can find some of his writings at "roberthewettsr.hubpages.com"
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
The Change--By Isha Wagner--New Zealand
The Change
She wears a demure look
Once grey hair now ashen blond
Blue eyes with dramatic lids
Skin of her face in thick lines
Yet she lights up with a
Young girl's smile
And I marvel at the transformation
telling me in excited tones
About a man from the past
who phones every morning
To inquire after her wellbeing
Oh, she's flattered you can tell
We chatter on about books and things
As we sip flat white coffees
In the café with no name
Then we say goodbye
I ask her casually
What's his name, this marvellous man
Well, that's David, my long-lost son
Didn't I tell you that?
Isha Wagner is a New Zealand poet. She has resided in many countries including Iceland, Libya, India, and Australia. She read some of her work at the VIII International Poetry Festival held in Granada, Nicaragua, in February 2012. She has had three collections of poetry published.
She wears a demure look
Once grey hair now ashen blond
Blue eyes with dramatic lids
Skin of her face in thick lines
Yet she lights up with a
Young girl's smile
And I marvel at the transformation
telling me in excited tones
About a man from the past
who phones every morning
To inquire after her wellbeing
Oh, she's flattered you can tell
We chatter on about books and things
As we sip flat white coffees
In the café with no name
Then we say goodbye
I ask her casually
What's his name, this marvellous man
Well, that's David, my long-lost son
Didn't I tell you that?
Isha Wagner is a New Zealand poet. She has resided in many countries including Iceland, Libya, India, and Australia. She read some of her work at the VIII International Poetry Festival held in Granada, Nicaragua, in February 2012. She has had three collections of poetry published.
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Leokadia Durmaj, Australia and Robert Hewett, United States
Magic was the Night
By Leokadia Durmaj, Australia and Robert Hewett, United States
Looking up at the sky last night,
To see my cherished Star Angels there.
Bright stars shining ever so bright,
At first there were none I could see,
Hiding behind every dark cloud.
Clouds were creating a painting,
Evolving different shaped colours,
A scenic masterpiece to be.
Magical dreams of love began.
You lay there on that grassy knoll
Communing with your sky angels
Winking like iridescent raindrops
Upon a Lilly padded pond.
On my arm you were my angel.
The softness of your hair and skin,
Content within your world of love,
Your Star Angels; my Earth angel.
A perfect night for beautiful dreams.
By Leokadia Durmaj, Australia and Robert Hewett, United States
Looking up at the sky last night,
To see my cherished Star Angels there.
Bright stars shining ever so bright,
At first there were none I could see,
Hiding behind every dark cloud.
Clouds were creating a painting,
Evolving different shaped colours,
A scenic masterpiece to be.
Magical dreams of love began.
You lay there on that grassy knoll
Communing with your sky angels
Winking like iridescent raindrops
Upon a Lilly padded pond.
On my arm you were my angel.
The softness of your hair and skin,
Content within your world of love,
Your Star Angels; my Earth angel.
A perfect night for beautiful dreams.
Duo Dancer--By Eleanor Michael--United States
Duo Dancer
I dance
with partner
or without.
Alone,
I lead.
With partner,
I follow.
Together
is better.
Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.
I dance
with partner
or without.
Alone,
I lead.
With partner,
I follow.
Together
is better.
Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Distant Shine--By Gert W. Knop--Germany
Distant Shine
(In German and English)
Sterne
Ach, ihr Sterne,
versteckt euch nicht
und schickt mir euer helles Licht.
In dunkler Einsamkeit der Nacht,
so ist es mir,
als leuchtet ihr
alleine aus der Ferne nur
für mich
Stars
Ah, ye stars,
please do not hide
and send me your bright light.
In darkest loneliness of night
it is to me
that you are shining
from a distance
just only for me
Gert W. Knop, born in 1943, studies art and tropical agriculture in Germany and Scotland (University of Edinburgh). He has lived in many different countries and writes mainly in German, English and Spanish. He currently resides in Zittau (Saxony), Germany.
(In German and English)
Sterne
Ach, ihr Sterne,
versteckt euch nicht
und schickt mir euer helles Licht.
In dunkler Einsamkeit der Nacht,
so ist es mir,
als leuchtet ihr
alleine aus der Ferne nur
für mich
Stars
Ah, ye stars,
please do not hide
and send me your bright light.
In darkest loneliness of night
it is to me
that you are shining
from a distance
just only for me
Gert W. Knop, born in 1943, studies art and tropical agriculture in Germany and Scotland (University of Edinburgh). He has lived in many different countries and writes mainly in German, English and Spanish. He currently resides in Zittau (Saxony), Germany.
February Fever--By Joyce Johnson--United States
February Fever
In the battle of the poets
Closeted within their dens,
Words their only ammunition,
Shooting from their ink filled pens,
Seeking phrase uniquely pretty
And an unused metaphor,
They have not the time to help me
Woo the one whom I adore.
You have loved me through the worries
You've stood by me through the pain.
I have found you there still waiting
When the world was bright again.
Without muse or bard assistance,
Am I equal to the game?
In trite words of adoration
Will the message be the same?
I can't say it grandiosely
As I show this love of mine.
The old hackneyed words must do then.
Will you be my Valentine?
Joyce Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce will celebrate her 95th birthday in July of 2013.
In the battle of the poets
Closeted within their dens,
Words their only ammunition,
Shooting from their ink filled pens,
Seeking phrase uniquely pretty
And an unused metaphor,
They have not the time to help me
Woo the one whom I adore.
You have loved me through the worries
You've stood by me through the pain.
I have found you there still waiting
When the world was bright again.
Without muse or bard assistance,
Am I equal to the game?
In trite words of adoration
Will the message be the same?
I can't say it grandiosely
As I show this love of mine.
The old hackneyed words must do then.
Will you be my Valentine?
Joyce Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce will celebrate her 95th birthday in July of 2013.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Heaven Scent--By Beth Winchcombe--England
Heaven Scent
You cannot buy love.
It's priceless.
It has to be given freely.
Love and warmth comes from within
the heart!
In the first instance,
love is fragile.
Liken to a delicate rose,
it slowly grows,
and blossoms into pure beauty!
Like the perfume of the rose,
love is heaven scent.
A delicate aroma,
distinctive, unrivalled!
Inhale it.
Savour it.
It belongs, only to the one you love!
This is SO unique,
it's PRICELESS…
Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils.
You cannot buy love.
It's priceless.
It has to be given freely.
Love and warmth comes from within
the heart!
In the first instance,
love is fragile.
Liken to a delicate rose,
it slowly grows,
and blossoms into pure beauty!
Like the perfume of the rose,
love is heaven scent.
A delicate aroma,
distinctive, unrivalled!
Inhale it.
Savour it.
It belongs, only to the one you love!
This is SO unique,
it's PRICELESS…
Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils.
A Wooden Cross--By James Rasmusson--United States
A Wooden Cross
South of Lafayette on interstate 65
I saw a wooden cross.
The roadside monument,
weathered and grey,
was a tribute to a loved one
who lost his life in a car crash.
At 70 mph I only saw it for an instant,
yet it was time enough to see
the cowboy hat that proudly perched
on the weathered wooden cross.
I didn’t know the cowboy nor his wife.
I didn’t attend the funeral.
But for just an instant I felt
both the sorrow and the love that poured
from the weathered wooden cross
with cowboy hat on interstate 65.
James began writing in the 1960’s and immediately showed a love for seasonal, humorous, and philosophical poetry. In the late 70’s, he became an ardent photographer and soon found that the two artistic mediums cross pollinated each other. West Michigan is an art Mecca with over 100 galleries and art camps with Jim residing in the lovely coastal town of Holland, Michigan. A practitioner of Surat Shabd Yoga since 1972, his art is an expression of his lifetime love affair with nature and his quest for truth. James is the winner of many awards in both photography and poetry including the 2005 Shadow Poetry 5th biannual chapbook competition. The artist says he likes to underscore the abstract and tease the mind and be ever alert for juxtapositions that express irony, absurdity, and poignancy, desiring for people to feel both tension and resolution in his compositions.
South of Lafayette on interstate 65
I saw a wooden cross.
The roadside monument,
weathered and grey,
was a tribute to a loved one
who lost his life in a car crash.
At 70 mph I only saw it for an instant,
yet it was time enough to see
the cowboy hat that proudly perched
on the weathered wooden cross.
I didn’t know the cowboy nor his wife.
I didn’t attend the funeral.
But for just an instant I felt
both the sorrow and the love that poured
from the weathered wooden cross
with cowboy hat on interstate 65.
James began writing in the 1960’s and immediately showed a love for seasonal, humorous, and philosophical poetry. In the late 70’s, he became an ardent photographer and soon found that the two artistic mediums cross pollinated each other. West Michigan is an art Mecca with over 100 galleries and art camps with Jim residing in the lovely coastal town of Holland, Michigan. A practitioner of Surat Shabd Yoga since 1972, his art is an expression of his lifetime love affair with nature and his quest for truth. James is the winner of many awards in both photography and poetry including the 2005 Shadow Poetry 5th biannual chapbook competition. The artist says he likes to underscore the abstract and tease the mind and be ever alert for juxtapositions that express irony, absurdity, and poignancy, desiring for people to feel both tension and resolution in his compositions.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Monoku--By Ralph Stott--England
....finding the truth
.......lost for words
______________
....she raised a purple finger
...........a soldier counts his rounds
(democracy in Iraq)
______________
........a room remains in darkness
...............a lamp wick trails a toy
______________
.....a nightingale changes her tune
..........a cat treads another path
______________
....a man lay dying
.........a well trodden path
Ralph Stott was born in Kent, England in 1957. He is married and has two daughters. He studied design at the Medway College of Design in the mid-70's. Expressing ideas through the written/visual media, has always interested him. Ralph began to dedicate more time to poetry with The Writers and Poetry Alliance, in particular the 'Stylists' forum, over the last 3 years. He has self published one book called Legends For Lunchtime; a collection of short stories and has a second book pending called Twist and Twist Again, which is a collection of Twister poems, a form he created.
.......lost for words
______________
....she raised a purple finger
...........a soldier counts his rounds
(democracy in Iraq)
______________
........a room remains in darkness
...............a lamp wick trails a toy
______________
.....a nightingale changes her tune
..........a cat treads another path
______________
....a man lay dying
.........a well trodden path
Ralph Stott was born in Kent, England in 1957. He is married and has two daughters. He studied design at the Medway College of Design in the mid-70's. Expressing ideas through the written/visual media, has always interested him. Ralph began to dedicate more time to poetry with The Writers and Poetry Alliance, in particular the 'Stylists' forum, over the last 3 years. He has self published one book called Legends For Lunchtime; a collection of short stories and has a second book pending called Twist and Twist Again, which is a collection of Twister poems, a form he created.
A Pestilence of Grackles--By Brian Whatcott--United States
A Pestilence of Grackles
Low above the empty street
feather shafts and hollow bones
a crowd of birds with slim blue feet
applauding in a noisy show
the radiance of a chill blue sky
and not a hundred feet below
that is what I saw today
flying machines from long ago
circling near and far away
and they will live to flutter still,
with their delightful speckled eggs
those our shotguns do not kill.
Brian Whatcott is a writer from Oklahoma. He and his wife, Norma, have three children. He enjoys flying, sailing and water-skiing.
Low above the empty street
feather shafts and hollow bones
a crowd of birds with slim blue feet
applauding in a noisy show
the radiance of a chill blue sky
and not a hundred feet below
that is what I saw today
flying machines from long ago
circling near and far away
and they will live to flutter still,
with their delightful speckled eggs
those our shotguns do not kill.
Brian Whatcott is a writer from Oklahoma. He and his wife, Norma, have three children. He enjoys flying, sailing and water-skiing.
FEBRUARY ANNOUNCEMENTS/PUBLICATION OPPORTUNITIES
NEW CONTRIBUTORS IN JANUARY
Stacy Savage--United States
Nikko Palmario--Philippines
Anne R. C. Neale--United States
Sheri Stanley --United States
Janet Vick--United States
Kristina M. Hooper--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Malawi, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Brian Strand's latest innovative phrasis structured prose book has just been published in his SELECTED CHRISTIAN PHRASIS ebook on Amazon's kindle format.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/SELECTED-CHRISTIAN-PHRASIS-Brian-Strand-ebook/dp/B00HUVLY4S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1390040311&sr=8-1&keywords=Selected+Christian+Phrasis+by+brian+strand
Rhoda Galgiani released Expressions From the Inside Out, a book of poetry in 2011. Rhoda's second book is a child's story entitled No Snow for Johnny in 2012. Both books are published by APF Publisher. They have received good reviews and is available online at lulu.com and amazon.com (search book titles or author's name at the appropriate website) or contact Rhoda at: chesakat@verizon.net
Carolyn Devonshire, Sandra Stefanowich and Jack Horne announce the release of their collaboration poetry book, Shades of Darkness and Light. This book is currently available from eTreasuresPublishing.com, price $2.50 http://jmhorneghosthunt.blogspot.com/
Jack Horne announces the release of his debut novel, A Ghost Hunt: a paranormal romance. This book is currently available from eTreasuresPublishing.com, price $3.99
http://jmhorneghosthunt.blogspot.com/
Karen O’Leary makes homemade cards with poetry and other features. With cards in stores getting so expensive, she would like to offer the opportunity to have cards with your poetry or cards she designs for occasions made to fit your needs. She will be charging $2 for United States and $3 (US currency only) for other countries including postage. Cards will include envelopes ready for mailing to others. Sample cards are available. Please contact her a gksm@cableone.net if you would like to discuss options or if you want her mailing address to order a sample card.
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Stacy Savage is now accepting submissions for a new poetry contest. Complete guidelines are available on the Rhyme Time Poetry Contest at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause or www.authorsden.com/stacysavage (click on "events").
Please consider supporting The Pen, The Jokester, and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Arthur C. Ford, poet/editor of The Pen (Poetry Newsletter) is looking for new subscribers and submissions. See information at:www.thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com
(click on guidelines).
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
Ads are placed by the underlined names. Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.
Stacy Savage--United States
Nikko Palmario--Philippines
Anne R. C. Neale--United States
Sheri Stanley --United States
Janet Vick--United States
Kristina M. Hooper--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Malawi, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Brian Strand's latest innovative phrasis structured prose book has just been published in his SELECTED CHRISTIAN PHRASIS ebook on Amazon's kindle format.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/SELECTED-CHRISTIAN-PHRASIS-Brian-Strand-ebook/dp/B00HUVLY4S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1390040311&sr=8-1&keywords=Selected+Christian+Phrasis+by+brian+strand
Rhoda Galgiani released Expressions From the Inside Out, a book of poetry in 2011. Rhoda's second book is a child's story entitled No Snow for Johnny in 2012. Both books are published by APF Publisher. They have received good reviews and is available online at lulu.com and amazon.com (search book titles or author's name at the appropriate website) or contact Rhoda at: chesakat@verizon.net
Carolyn Devonshire, Sandra Stefanowich and Jack Horne announce the release of their collaboration poetry book, Shades of Darkness and Light. This book is currently available from eTreasuresPublishing.com, price $2.50 http://jmhorneghosthunt.blogspot.com/
Jack Horne announces the release of his debut novel, A Ghost Hunt: a paranormal romance. This book is currently available from eTreasuresPublishing.com, price $3.99
http://jmhorneghosthunt.blogspot.com/
Karen O’Leary makes homemade cards with poetry and other features. With cards in stores getting so expensive, she would like to offer the opportunity to have cards with your poetry or cards she designs for occasions made to fit your needs. She will be charging $2 for United States and $3 (US currency only) for other countries including postage. Cards will include envelopes ready for mailing to others. Sample cards are available. Please contact her a gksm@cableone.net if you would like to discuss options or if you want her mailing address to order a sample card.
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Stacy Savage is now accepting submissions for a new poetry contest. Complete guidelines are available on the Rhyme Time Poetry Contest at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause or www.authorsden.com/stacysavage (click on "events").
Please consider supporting The Pen, The Jokester, and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Arthur C. Ford, poet/editor of The Pen (Poetry Newsletter) is looking for new subscribers and submissions. See information at:www.thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com
(click on guidelines).
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
Ads are placed by the underlined names. Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.
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