She staggered, leaned on the arm clinically offered
The hospital smell made her retch
She felt as if her air had been cut off
Swooning her head swam into darkness
Strong arms lifted her up
Gentle hands undressed her
Careful eyes injected her
She slept
She awoke
Where was John, not there beside her
Where was her window
Her dressing table not yet paid for
God this is hospital, am I ill she thought
Oh no
Fear gripped her as she remembered the dream
No - reality - John is dead
Her sister collected her later ….

WHENE’ER thy wandering footstep bends
Its pathway to the Hermit tree,
Among its cordial band of friends,
Sweet Mary! wilt thou number me?
Though all too few the hours have roll’d
That saw the stranger linger here,
In memory’s volume let them hold
One little spot to friendship dear.
I oft have thought how sweet ‘twould be
To steal the bird of Eden’s art;
And leave behind a trace of me
On every kind and friendly heart,
And like the breeze in fragrance rolled,
To gather as I wander by,
From ….

Filipinos abroad working for their family
While sharing in the growth of the country
Are often called the “makabagong bayani”
With their immense help in the economy.
Even to my own and ever dearest family
You’re family is indeed our own bayani
For the kindness you’ve shared unselfishly
Helped us a lot in the needs of our family.
Life here in our very own land and destiny
Is becoming harder and harder everyday
With the crisis besetting our economy
And poor peace and order in the country.
I do wish that we’ll ….

You’re the one I’ve been looking for
You’re my soul’s questions answered
You’re my favorite mistake
You’re my favorite failure
She’s away and I reach for the phone
The memory, so hard to own
And I tear it all to pieces, just like the rest
But she’s waiting for me at the end
And each temptation, each offered sin
Leaves the same harsh scent burnt on my skin
But each memento, each memory
Leads me back to home and history
And even if it’s perfect, I just don’t know
It brings back the ….

Born in the early nineteen twenties and in the mid nineteen eighties he passed away
A poetic legend in his lifetime and his legend lives today
Phillip Larkin the hero of many a Literary Don
The poet is at peace but his verse living on.
Phillip Larkin from Coventry few greater than he
Though some with that assumption may well not agree
Some say in some of his poems he used words that were rude
But then every poet is a creature of mood.
For Nature Poet Larkin ….

free verse
A dreadful assault
dulled their sense of sympathy
and love walked away two times…
selfish trumped humane.
That beast prejudice,
clearly displayed in neglect
to one accustomed to it,
yet mercy moved him.
Bandages, ointment
a vital ride to the inn
full payment for care followed
a night of concern.
Want eternal life?
Ask not, who is my neighbor?
Be a merciful neighbor;
show your love for God.
This post was submitted by Reason A. Poteet.

I pity them those children of the street
They eat the food that dogs refuse to eat
From trash bins food people have thrown away
Half eaten burgers that smell of decay.
Poor hungry souls they live in poverty
But they need more far more than sympathy
Their health perhaps damaged beyond repair
Compared to them i live like a millionaire.
Compared to theirs my childhood was so good
By my old home the birds sang in the wood
A warm house that sheltered me from wind and rain
And i ….

FOLLOW your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet!
There, wrapt in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne’er return again!
All that I sung still to her praise did tend;
Still she was first, still she my songs did end;
Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
The music that her echo ….

Silent Whispers,
Immobile.
Please Confuse Me,
With What is Normal.
Crying and Sobbing,
Looking Distorted.
Please No Sympathy,
Make it Retorted.
Sawing Away,
At My Own Sanity.
Please Don’t Stop This,
Because It’s All New To Me.
That Void That Was Empty,
Seems to be Filled.
The Voice That I Hear is Not of The Ill.
She Saved Me Once,
She’ll Save Me Again.
Or Maybe She Wont,
And Leave at The End.
This post was submitted by Nathan Kraft.

under the cloak of night’s dark cover
tip toed and slithy toed my secreted lover
trying to run without being seen, wearing his worthy night’s disguise
past the all seeing people with their all seeing prying eyes
if to be found in my arms oh how he would die
his life for my love he so willing would sacrifice
their thinking, alike many minds kept tight between a vice
it’s so sad a story to have to hide such sweet love this way
hidden down in a cave ….