December 2018 Showcase..[ Poems To Share, Of And With P H Poets & Readers;" Mixed Bag Of Sweets" ] Poem by Bri Edwards

I go from a mixed bag of Halloween candy,
to a "mixed bag" of poems, dandy.
Soon I move East for six months at least,
to give N. Carolina a taste of this poetic beast.

Hopefully N.C. (a U.S. state)has Internet,
and contact with PoemHunter I'll still get.
IF a January Showcase fails to then appear,
perhaps I'm just too busy with snow-shoveling gear.

Instead of pen and paper or keyBOARD,
by snow drifts and gusty winds I may be ‘floored'.
To Showcase devotees who read this:
"Feel free to ‘pray' for continuing P H bliss."

December's Showcase is gathering speed,
as I've found poems with which to seed …..it.
Some are poems I've, o'r time, in MyPoemList, stacked;
some from PH's "Top List", with "500" packed.


(November …17th ….2018)

This month I will change the format of the Showcase somewhat drastically, leaving out information formerly given ahead of the list of poems.I hope we all appreciate the change.Too bad if you don't! ! !Ha ha! ![to see previous format(s) , go to showcases from previous months]

Bri Edwards aka Brian Edward Whitaker

(:


THE POEMS [TITLES & TEXTS], AUTHORS' NAMES, & WHERE I'VE FOUND THE POEMS IN PH:


a - Sam's Christmas Pudding
By Marriott Edgar
Found in list of Christmas (topic)poems.See list of poems by topic on PH's Home page.

Sam's Christmas Pudding

It was Christmas Day in the trenches
In Spain in Penninsular War,
And Sam Small were cleaning his musket
A thing as he'd ne're done before.

They'd had 'em inspected that morning
And Sam had got into disgrace,
For when sergeant had looked down the barrel
A sparrow flew out in his face.

The sergeant reported the matter
To Lieutenant Bird then and there.
Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'
The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'

The Duke were upset when he heard
He said, 'I'm astonished, I am.
I must make a most drastic example
There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'

When Sam were informed of his sentence
Surprise, rooted him to the spot.
'Twas much worse than he had expected,
He though as he'd only be shot.

And so he sat cleaning his musket
And polishing barrel and butt.
While the pudding his mother had sent him,
Lay there in the mud at his foot.

Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding
Ran around a place called Badajoz.
Where the Spaniards had put up a bastion
And ooh...! what a bastion it was.

They pounded away all the morning
With canister, grape shot and ball.
But the face of the bastion defied them,
They made no impression at all.

They started again after dinner
Bombarding as hard as they could.
And the Duke brought his own private cannon
But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.

The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy musket
And help me lay this gun true.'
Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your favours
From them as you give pudding to.'
The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful
'And don't take it that way, ' said he.
'Us Generals have got to be ruthless
It hurts me more than it did thee.'

Sam sniffed at these words kind of sceptic,
Then looked down the Duke's private gun.
And said 'We'd best put in two charges,
We'll never bust bastion with one.'

He tipped cannon ball out of muzzle
He took out the wadding and all.
He filled barrel chock full of powder,
Then picked up and replaced the ball.

He took a good aim at the bastion
Then said 'Right-o, Duke, let her fly.'
The cannon nigh jumped off her trunnions,
And up went the bastion, sky high.

The Duke, he weren't 'alf elated
He danced around trench full of glee.
And said, 'Sam, for this gallant action.
You can hot up your pudding for tea.'

Sam looked 'round to pick up his pudding
But it wasn't there, nowhere about.
In the place where he thought he had left it,
Lay the cannon ball he'd just tipped out.

Sam saw in a flash what 'ad happened:
By an unprecedented mishap.
The pudding his mother had sent him,
Had blown Badajoz off map.

That's why fuisilliers wear to this moment
A badge which they think's a grenade.
But they're wrong... it's a brass reproduction,
Of the pudding Sam's mother once made.
Marriott Edgar


b- - Fire And Ice
By Robert Frost
Found at #12 (currently)on PH's Top 500 Poems list (see Home page)

FIRE AND ICE

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost


c - DON'T GO FAR OFF
By Pablo Neruda
…Found at #18 on Top 500 Poems list

Don't Go Far Off

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -
because -I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
Pablo Neruda


d - ~I CHOOSE THE MOUNTAIN~
By Howard Simon
Found at #26 on Top 500 Poem list

~I Choose The Mountain~

The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer

The massive mountain makes its move
Beckoning me to ascend
A much more difficult path
To get up the slippery bend

I cannot choose both
I have a choice to make
I must be wise
This will determine my fate

I choose, I choose the mountain
With all its stress and strain
Because only by climbing
Can I rise above the plain

I choose the mountain
And I will never stop climbing
I choose the mountain
And I shall forever be ascending

I choose the mountain

Howard Simon


e - A Standing Ovation
......By Hazel Durham
…...From MyPoemList of favorites

A Standing Ovation

The horizon holds no more dreams for me,
Dreams are now inland rivers
And the standing ovation of untamed monsters

Highlighting my insignificance and surprising significance,
As I travel with you on mind swept waters
With diverted tributaries, like our singular journeys

Down roads of hardship, laughter and continuous pain
That swallowed up every star in the darkest blanket,
We did not escape the thunder storms

On the trail of no surrender,
The arrows of destruction had been fired,
Now we have found each other swept up on the banks

Of the mighty River Barrow, a snake wilful and playful
As it bows to our rise to unity
Of scars healing in the rain sodden streets

Of Carlow, to entice me to come ashore
Into your saturated eyes of the intimacy of home
And all that means,

Swimming in the warm pools of love,
The skies of the past are changing back to blue
And the untamed monsters give a standing ovation

For the acceptance and passion that is being with you.
Hazel Durham


f - Vestigial Lucidity -
By Kelly Kurt
…Found in MyPoemList

Vestigial Lucidity

I cannot be insane, can I?
Questioning the fact establishes rationality
Or so I've told myself
The voices I hear are my own
Taunting, teasing, intermittently inspirational
Balanced on a silver thread
One side, genius
The other, madness
Tremors threaten to topple
Which way will I fall?
How long can I remain poised?
Preserving my vestigial lucidity
Kelly Kurt

g - Letting Go
By- Lora Colon
Found in MyPoemList

Letting Go

Are you still recalling that dispute
You had long ago with a loved one?
It's time unkind words were rendered mute,
Let go of the reins, and let them run

What torment petty quarrels can dispense!
We say things, then later wonder why,
Hurtful words that never made much sense -
Bind them to swift wings and let them fly

Time is not what heals our broken hearts,
Or brings comfort to a shattered soul;
Gently gather all the broken parts -
Mend them with Love's threads to make them whole

Focus on the things that made you smile,
Words and deeds that made happiness flow;
When sad memories taunt you with their guile,
Raise the window wide and bid them go!
Lora Colon

========================================================================

g - Potty Plant Love
By Ruth Walters
Found in MyPoemList

Potty Plant Love

I stroked the house plant,
nurtured it, loved it,
watered it, fed it and
spoke sweet nothings
to its leaves.
Now it has bloomed,
sprouted baby leaves,
encouraged by me
and suddenly I've noticed
it's leaning towards me
in the opposite direction
to the sun.........

Ruth Walters
====================================================

h - Perdition Addition (Liimerick)
By Kelly Kurt
…….Found in MyPoemList

Perdition Addition (Limerick)

Not willing to just go with the flow
Accept faith to maintain status-quo
Told I'll be sent to hell
What do you say now, Kel
Am I a believer, heavens No
Kelly Kurt
Bri's Note:
"per•di•tion/pərˈdiSHən/noun: perdition1 (in Christian theology)a state of eternal punishment and damnation into which a sinful and unpenitent person passes after death."
[[ See you in Hell, Kel? ? ? ]]

=========================================================

i - Watch The Clouds
By Della Perry
Found in MyPoemList

Watch The Clouds

Sometimes I sit and watch the clouds
Doesn't matter to me if it rains or is dry
If the sun shines I wonder why
Sometimes I just want to get away
Be somewhere, a better place
But that place only exists within my mind
Within my thoughts, within the clouds.

You can dream... you can be... you can see...

I see a land, a land of white and blue beauty
A moving landscape of vastness that calls to me
That calls to my soul
That reaches deep inside my heart
But I know it is only dreams
But what have we if not dreams?
Della Perry


j- The Longest Wait
By Jez Brul
Found in MyPoemList

The Longest Wait

I wish
I could come to you
before the last leaf
of autumn falls.
Jez Brul

===========================================================

k - Mick-o-Leen Oge
By Annette Aitken
Found in MyPoemList

Mick-o-leen Oge



There once was a man named Mick-O-leen Oge
He roamed ore' mountains and valley's below
His bright coloured hat adorned with red feathers
The long coat he wore was made out of leather
The waxy green leaves provide him with pants
His fairy dust shoes allowed him to dance.
For once it was said when Mick-O-leen's about
Look out for him stagger, with his odd pint of stout
You may even hear the lint of his voice
Carried across the hill-tops at night
For Mick-O-leen Oge is said to be
A pixie, a leprechaun, a flying pig
An old Irish tale embellished in truths
Hark'
Is that old Mick-o-leen playing his flute?
A lullaby played from days that's gone bye
Yet somehow this tune filled up the nights sky
Voices of angles languished around
A comforting feeling you get from the sound
He sits in the corner and gently smiles
Then slips away quickly before he is spied.
Annette Aitken

Bri's Notes:
I changed "angles" to "angels".:) otherwise, this poem and (I think, so far)the rest are as they appeared on the day I copied and pasted them from PH.


l - Memories, Long Ago
By Darwin Henry Beuning
Found in MyPoemList

Memories, Long Ago

My oldest daughter
Kim
As a teenager
Her favorite expression
'That's not fair'

I would say
No one ever said
Life would be fair

I would rush
And get her
Birth Certificate

Have her check it out
Read the small print
Front and back

Not to be found,
'Life will be fair'
The only guarantee

'A last breath'
Darwin Henry Beuning


m - The Beggar Man
By Loke Kok yee
Found in MyPoemList

The Beggar Man

There is much pity when we see a beggar man
Others who see him and are filled with contempt
But if we were to see things their way if we can
It will not be anything like you have ever dreamt

He is probably thinking why everyone else is mad
Busy bustling around while he lazes and sit back
Stressed and angry looking sometimes even sad
And he without a worry, his world in a plastic bag

His needs well provided there's always a kind soul
He sleeps in an alley or the subway when it is cold
And in the night shelter hot meals comes in a bowl
Clothes are a plenty though a little tatty and old

His time is defined by feelings of hunger or thirst
It is of no matter if the shops are open or closed
Living in the streets things cannot get any worse
Apart from food and shelter no other needs imposed

Without any bills to pay or taxes like the rest
He never has to queue or a dateline to be met
His temper never frayed or his patience put to test
Though not a penny to his name yet never in debt

He passes his time thinking about the next meal
While the rest of us have lots of things to fulfill
Whether rain or shine to him is not a big deal
But in weather adverse our plans can go downhill

Next time you see a beggar man some envy is due
He may not have money but he's happier than you
Loke Kok yee

Bri's Notes:
I rarely say I am "happy"; I prefer the word "content", which I'm not ALWAYS! ! !BUT, even if The Beggar Man IS happier than I, I still would rather live the way I do. And I'll give ‘beggars' et al money or food or toilet paper if I want to! ! !I've done all that before.


n - Y/.. A Diamond Bird
By Aufie Zophy
Found in MyPoemList

Y/.. A Diamond Bird

A diamond bird
Flaps its diamond wings
A thousand rainbows
Dance on the white sand
The blue sea dizzy

A diamond bird
Lands on my shoulder
I grab its feet
A look in my eyes
A whisper

A diamond bird
A thousand rainbows
I 'd like to possess
But set it free
And nature smiles
Aufie Zophy

=======================================================================

o - Meet The Boastfuls Part Two
By Tom Billsborough
Found in MyPoemList

Meet The Boastfuls Part Two

'A two year old phenomenon
My Billy's run a marathon'
'My Sue has walked up Everest.
Just in her pants and vest,
And she is only one.'
Tom Billsborough


p - Strange Relationship
By Nikhila Churia
Found in MyPoemList

Strange Relationships

There are no words left to say;
How broken and torn my heart is;
Life seems to just fade away;
Leaving my mind lonely and cold.

As I held the hands of the night;
I heard my restless soul cry;
I felt a drop of tear within;
My already wet eyes;
The clock of life ticks fast;
Making memories fade away;
And the world would never stop;
Mocking at me in awfully pathetic ways.

I wish, Oh Lord;
Life was an easier riddle to solve;
As the night closes down, I feel;
An achingly calm stir in mind.

My life is complete;
For passersby;
They say aloud;
'Oh, you have it all';
But I keep searching;
Here and there;
For what I miss;
The most in life.

There is no name;
For what we share;
It's not friendship;
It's not love.

What is it that still connects;
You and me on both the ends;
It's hard to define;
This feeling, strange;
A mixture of confusion and dismay;
All I know is;
Oh my dear;
We share a strange relationship.
Nikhila Churia

Bri's Notes:
I've had a few "strange relationships"! !
(:


q - Mediterranean Girl's War Phobia
By Muzahidul Reza
Found at #56 on PH's list of Top 55 Poems

[Text NOT included in the showcase]

Bri's Notes:
I like Muzahidul as a person, and his English is often very good, but it needs more work.
Also, the text is very long and this showcase is long enough! Also, I question at least one of
the things his poem says.BUT war is an important topic to write about, to keep people aware of its existence and its destructive forces.Try Googling "current wars on Earth" to see, as I did, a list of
ongoing "wars" and the reported deaths in the past two years and the forces and countries involved.
IF it is all accurate, it will probably be a surprise to most people.


r - Barbie Doll
By Marge Piercy
Found in MyPoemList and I believe it is/was in PH's list of Top 500 Poems

Barbie Doll

This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.

She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.

She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.

In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending.
Marge Piercy

=============================================================

MY THANKS GO OUT TO ALL POETS WHOSE TITLES APPEAR ABOVE, and TO ALL READERS.I RECOMMEND VISITING SOME OF THE POETS, NAY ALL OF THE POETS (ABOVE) , TO CHECK OUT OTHER POEMS.

Bri Edwards aka Brian Edward Whitaker (in the ‘real world')
(:

p.s. if I ever get around to doing it, I'll type and submit a tiny poem:
"Bri's Cannibal Friend"