24 hours a day, 7 days a week, the Arts and Poetry Cafe is here to set the stage for your creative works!
featured artist Amanda Sage
click on Amanda's etching above to visit her web gallery
visit our P O E t R y forum--cLicK hEre
|8.29.05 A new submission! Thanks!
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
When the game began between them for a jest,
He played the king and she played queen to match the best;
soft as tears, and tears that turned to laughter,
These were things she sought for years and sorrowed after.
with dry lips and pain that walks by night;
All the sting and all the stain of long delight;
These were things she knew
not of, that knew not of her,
When she played at half a love with half a lover.
Time was chorus, gave them clues
to laugh or cry;
They would kill, befool, amuse him, let him die;
Set him webs to weave to-day and break to-morrow,
he died for good in play, and rose in sorrow.
What the years mean; how time dies and is not slain;
How love grows
and laughs and cries and wanes again;
These were things she came to know and take their measure,
When the play was played
out so for one man's pleasure.
"You're just a wave, you're not the water" ~Butch Hancock
fearful while still
but stop anyway
expanding concentric fear rings
parts of psyche
that resemble towns on map
I'm loathe to re-visit
traveled through so long ago
fear sparkles like new snow
chilling yet poignant
Allowing it all back in
and speaks to BRAIN:
the object of your fear mirror within you?
Therein lies your answer
and your liberation from fear."
BRAIN replies: "Thank you, HEART
Now I'll resume my wandering."
©2002 by Margaret
|Poems of the Month
please go to Contact page to email the Cafe
|find out more about
|Homeless Poets Cafe in Berkeley, CA
Our Own PeacefulPositivePersonals
Song of the Hopeful Victim
"Let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.."
From one sphere to another he was thrown
Until there were was nowhere to be
A box was his only choice
Fortunately there was breatheable air in the box
But the box would not revolve
In accordance with
He tried to sand down box's sharp corners
Easier said than done
Birds came along
One pecked away at the infernal cube
A hole appeared
Rain leaked in
He drank rain water
And hoped for a miracle
Right now he's barely existing
Full of hope
Trying out new ideas
And still waiting
For that miracle.
You dance in the dark forest of my dreams
Forefront, focused, fast
Lithe, daring, & willful
only a shadow
Amid firs and pines
What will happen when
in my waking reality?