Bri Edwards' 2nd August 2021 Showcase Of Poems, From P-H Poets, To Share.....(7 Poems) Poem by Bri Edwards

Intro poem:

I'll get this showcase done before I succumb to my present domestic turmoil.
I don't want 'no-more-showcases' to (your relative comfort) this month spoil.
This introductory poem by me will be my only personal offering for you today.
If my mention of 'turmoil' intrigues you, you may inquire of me; it's very OK.

bri edwards

(August 10th,2021)

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'Dear' Readers:

Next come some of my favored poems by others 'on' P-H. Some are old; at least one was written by a poet now dead. No matter. The POEMS are 'still kicking' (not dead) .

My thanks go to all contributors, whether they KNOW they are contributors or not!

Since we members seem to NO LONGER receive notices from P-H telling us what new poem comments have been left for us, I THINK it would be nice if you send a message, if allowed, to the each poet to let her/him know you commented, pro or con..


Bri :)

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The Poems:

1

My Heart Will Always Sing


In life
I have given
So much
Always been there
Giving
Constantly giving
Never
Asking for anything
For giving
Not wanting anything
For giving
Pure fulfilment
from giving
Have I given too much?
Respect lost
Why?
What, from giving? No matter what my gift is Giving; it has been worth it..
For I know. Others have gained.
What I have lost. I guess there is reason.
I must not lose

My gift
Of giving


Copyright Reserved May 2014

LYN PAUL

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2

164. It's Because I Am Your Friend

You don't to have be shy with me
don't need to be embarrassed at all
you can talk to me about anything
I want to pick you up when you fall

You don't need to hide anything away
don't have to be afraid
I'm not like any other you've met
where they have run I will stay

I will not judge you on what you tell me
as long as you only tell me the truth
honesty is always the best thing
and so long as you are with me
I'll always be true with you

You want to know why I'd do this
why I would stay until the end
well I guess the answer is simple
it's because I am your friend


Jaden Knight

Friday, November 7,2014

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3

A Life Of Longing


My days are tormented by longing,
So many dreams life did not fulfill;
Longing for the love that never came,
(Yet the gallant heart is hopeful still)

I'm longing to foresee the future,
Just how long will my loneliness last?
Old memories offer no comfort,
So I'm longing to forget the past
I'm longing to know if God exists,
In my mind it still remains unclear;
Who shall I praise for nature's beauty?
Witnessing its wrath, whom shall I fear?

Few praise God in all circumstances,
The faithful pay homage without doubt;
But I'm perplexed by the suffering
Born of disease, war, famine, and drought

I'm torn between loving and hating
A God who cannot seem to decide
If wrath or mercy is deserving....
So both arrive, with hope on the side

I'm weary of this life of longing,
I seek my refuge in solitude;
Abandoning unanswered questions,
I ascend to spheres of quietude

But end of day finds my heart longing
That just one of life's schemes be revealed;
Fearing the reply, still it inquires:

Will love be mine? Or has my fate been sealed!

Lora Colon

Wednesday, July 17,2013

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4

The Raven


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
''Tis some visitor, ' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more.'


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'Sir, ' said I, 'or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you'- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, 'Lenore! '
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, 'Lenore! '-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely, ' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more.'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, ' I said, 'art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore! '
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as 'Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
'Doubtless, ' said I, 'what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'.'

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
'Wretch, ' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore! '
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Prophet! ' said I, 'thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or
devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead? - tell me- tell me, I implore! '
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Prophet! ' said I, 'thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend, ' I shrieked,
upstarting-
'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door! '
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!


Edgar Allan Poe

Tuesday, December 31,2002

Bri's Notes on the poem:

This is one of my FAVORITE poems. Isn't it interesting that Poe's last name is ALMOST Poem? ! He also wrote short stories (some are sort of scary) . He died in 1849.

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5

A Question Of My Own Mortality

Time seemed interminable.
A curious and inexplicable apprehension came over me,
As I sat in an elderly care home waiting to visit a friend.
The atmosphere was heavy with quiet confusion.
People wandered about searching and shifting in a
Sort of stolid acquiescence. Their lives recalled as flashes in memory, projecting film images on their thick, gray screen of dementia.
Across from me sat an elderly gentleman whose gaze was a glassy
Expression of inattention. I could see the declinations of his skull
Beneath his facial features. A victim of the grievous calamities
Of time, vaguely aware of his own frailty.


A harassing anxiety overcame me. Is it death or is it the lingering
Before my death I find discomposing?
No, it is not the naked fact of death I fear, it is the prison
Of my own being; that time from competence to incontinence;
Between enclosure to final closure.

Why was I so disrupted? Perhaps, it was a solemn foreshadowing,
Dimly seen on the distant reaches of my destiny,
In that, I had witnessed my own fragile mortality.


Lynn W. Petty

Friday, January 22,2016

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6

Limerick. - Facelift

After coloring my head with dye
I leave my damp hair open to dry
Thus my age, I conceal.
Careful not to reveal,
On my dry lips, some gloss, I apply.


Valsa George

Monday, November 2,2020

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7

Bleezer's Ice Cream Store

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
there are flavors in my freezer
you have never seen before,
twenty-eight divine creations
too delicious to resist,
why not do yourself a favor,
try the flavors on my list:

COCOA MOCHA MACARONI

TAPIOCA SMOKED BALONEY
CHECKERBERRY CHEDDAR CHEW
CHICKEN CHERRY HONEYDEW
TUTTI-FRUTTI STEWED TOMATO
TUNA TACO BAKED POTATO
LOBSTER LITCHI LIMA BEAN
MOZZARELLA MANGOSTEEN
ALMOND HAM MERINGUE SALAMI
YAM ANCHOVY PRUNE PASTRAMI
SASSAFRAS SOUVLAKI HASH

SUKIYAKI SUCCOTASH
BUTTER BRICKLE PEPPER PICKLE
POMEGRANATE PUMPERNICKEL
PEACH PIMENTO PIZZA PLUM
PEANUT PUMPKIN BUBBLEGUM
BROCCOLI BANANA BLUSTER
CHOCOLATE CHOP SUEY CLUSTER
AVOCADO BRUSSELS SPROUT
PERIWINKLE SAUERKRAUT
COTTON CANDY CARROT CUSTARD
CAULIFLOWER COLA MUSTARD
ONION DUMPLING DOUBLE DIP
TURNIP TRUFFLE TRIPLE FLIP
GARLIC GUMBO GRAVY GUAVA
LENTIL LEMON LIVER LAVA
ORANGE OLIVE BAGEL BEET
WATERMELON WAFFLE WHEAT

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
taste a flavor from my freezer,
you will surely ask for more.


Jack Prelutsky
Monday, January 13,2003

Bri's Note on Poet: Information about Jack Prelutsky, professional poet, is available on Wikipedia. I once visited a dairy store which had lots of flavors to choose from. They also had a 'flavor of the day' (or was it 'week' or 'month'? ?) . One such flavor was SAUERKRAUT, aka pickled cabbage, I believe.
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End of Showcase

Thanks for letting me share these with you. Any comments for me? Send me a message, if you'd like to.

bri

;)

p.s. I've copied the poems as they appeared on P-H when I gathered them.

Have a nice day!