Section A In October 2016 …a Showcase For P H Poets …. [to Each Her/His Own; Time: Its Limitations; Personal Preference; Giving And Receiving; Usually-Monthly Display] Poem by Bri Edwards

September 2016 soon will be at its glorious end,
so HURRY if, for Sept., a poem you plan to send …
or it may end up in this October 'A'Section.
[Proofread each poem; I don't expect perfection! ]

Yesterday I wrote a poem to entertain you all,
though, to please everyone is a goal very TALL.
My main goals in supplying a monthly showcase …
are to commune with friends, AND have a safe place …
to share our thoughts, our writing skills, and such.
A few poems I ask of you poets; that aint' too much …
..is it?

[Actually, the number of poems I've been receiving …
..is a comfortable number with which I can deal.
So, if you aren't sending poems, I'll not be grieving.
It will just 'give me' more time; 'bad' I won't feel …
..much.; (

But if you don't have the urge to submit, that's ok.
If you just come to read, not comment, it's ok too.
But if you submit and/or comment, then I'll say:
'Thanks for making this ‘nicer' for both me and YOU! '


(September 26, 2106)

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*****[ It is nice to receive comments on the showcase page,
but I think it would be even nicer, if the comment deals with
a particular poem, if the comment is sent directly to the
author of the poem. :) bri

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SPECIAL BRI'S NOTE.... on the poems presented in the showcases.

From time to time, I suggest changes in another poet's poem presented for viewing in my usually-monthly showcases; I also do this even when they have NOT been offered! ! ! I do not insist that the changes be made, and sometimes I'm not sure I want to make them.

I am especially fond of suggesting spelling corrections [a task which gets 'sticky' when a word has alternate spellings, especially words spelled one way in my country (U.S.) and another way in 'British' lands, such as U.K. and India]. I also like 'contractions' to have the 'required' apostrophe(s) . Typos are common, and I make them myself at times, but I don't wish to make it seem that misspellings et al are 'correct English'. ok?
thanks.

bri :) [proofreading more than once will sometimes help]
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********* I made a MAJOR CHANGE [in SEPTEMBER] in my showcase presentation. I shall use the first poem submitted by each of the first 15 contributors to fill a SECTION A.

For second poems of contributors in OCTOBER, plus any first poems received after SECTION A is 'FULL' of 15 poems, i will have a SECTION B, on a fresh sheet of computer space on my PH site.
So there will be two OCTOBER showcases listed in my PH list of my poems, with one title ONLY DIFFERING from the other because one will have 'A' and one will be 'B' in my poem's title. I hope this is clear to all of you! ! !


IF 15 poets do not submit poems by, let's say the third week in October, i shall close the Section A and put any more poems submitted into Section B, up to fifteen (15) poems, including 'late-arrival first poems' and any 'second poems'. Confusing? I hope not, because i don't want to try to explain it again! :) :)

With two (2) sections, i hope to make it more convenient for (especially) dedicated submitters, and readers, and ME to 'use' the showcase. I hope i am correct. I was prompted to do this by one of my 'good PH friends', Savita Tyagi. Thanks. Feel free to tell me if you like the new way or not.
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Section A's:


THE POETS AND THE TITLES: [Fifteen (15) 'first poems', listed in chronological order as they were received, from first to last]:


1 - Aries Profanisaurus [formerly John Westlake]

Cupid's New Rifle

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2 - Eugene Levich

Considering Two Spanish Poets - Written In Honor Of Ph's Extraordinary Tri-Lingual Poet Sandra Feldman

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3 - Bri Edwards

Snake, Lawyer, Stick …… [divorce; Courtroom Humor? ; Not Personal; Short-Medium]

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4 - Della Perry

Philosopher

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5 - Clarence Prince

It's Online

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6 - Annette Aitken

Four Seasons In One Day

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7 - Daniel Brick

How It Went

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8 - Savita Tyagi

Reflections

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9 - Valsa George

Autumnal Collage

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10 - B.m. Biswas

Looking Glasses

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11 - Bharati Nayak

Veiled

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12 - Douglas Scotney

Time Travel & Volatilization

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13 - Ayman Parray

Ragnarok

BRI'S NOTE: This poet feels NOW THAT HE LONGER wants to be included in the showcase, nor have more contact with good old Bri! He is a bit touchy about my 'suggestions' NOW, though at first he seemed to welcome them, even solicit them! and he apparently deleted the
comments i had left at this poem's page on his PH site.: (

i shall leave this entry of his and his poem's name, but delete his poem from the showcase, leaving no poem below at #13. i guess 13 WAS AN UNLUCKY NUMBER this time! !

too bad for my readers, as i liked his poem. it is still on his site the last i looked.


as a consequence, i shall add a number 16 to Section A. this reminds me of some tall buildings in the 'States' which do 'not' have a floor (or elevator button) with number 13 assigned to it.

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14 - Paul Brookes

Autumn's Descent

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15 - Brian Johnston

Tiny Ships In A Bottle (And Variations)

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16 - Kelly Kurt

Shadows Of Leafless Oaks

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End of Section A for this month.

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PLEASE GO TO SECTION B****** of OCTOBER 2016's showcase to see more
poems, by some of these same poets and probably by some others as well.

bri :)


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******In order to read MORE first-submissions by poets and ANY second-submissions [up to a total of about 15 for Section B] this month,
PLEASE go to my 'poem':

'Section B In October 2016 …a Showcase For P H Poets …. [to Each Her/His Own; Time: Its Limitations; Personal Preference; Giving And Receiving; Usually-Monthly Display]'

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THE POEMS: [listed in REVERSE chronological order, with the first received at the bottom of the list & the last received at the top of the list]

16 - by Kelly Kurt


Shadows Of Leafless Oaks
Mutant spiders
Hundreds of legs doing battle
Growing, stretching, shifting positions
Across the lawn
Up the walls and back down
Two dimensional, from three
No thickness, but obscuring
Extracting color, and relinquishing
Broad, dense, dark bases
Tapering, feathering, diffusing
Disappearing under the intransience of pines
Sunlight, their meals
Moonlight, dessert
Clouds, their hunger
Summer's verdure metamorphoses them into cooling billows
Camouflaging the combat

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15 - by Brian Johnston


Tiny Ships In A Bottle (And Variations)

Tiny ships made of flotsam, most remnants of me
I tearfully warp and then carve into poems,
Just words my heart link, dreaming soul is transparent,
That I tenderly launch once again on the sea,
Each bottle containing life's florid amalgams,
To some perhaps nothing, but my heirs apparent.

Tiny ships that have beauty, just life with no con,
Their cargo perfumed by a morning's departure,
A seafaring breeze that helps ships leave safe harbor,
Show a trace of their journeys to hither or yon,
The dream of a target like draw of an archer,
Like roses exploring the height of an arbor.

All these ships, bottled soul, that I cast on the brine,
May sea salt, perhaps, preserve past poet's promise
And tempt other poets to sail past their knowing,
Truly follow their muses, no limits enshrine,
And share God's creation, shake doubting like Thomas,
Our verses, His echo, all blessings bestowing.

(October 16,2016)

Haiku like variation...

flotsam constructed
tiny ships in a bottle
float on balmy sea

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14 - by Paul Brookes


Autumn's Descent

The mist and fruitfulness
of Autumn as some poet said
are upon us.

they lie milky on the land,
obscuring the buildings, giving
fuzzy edges to the trees
that are rapidly shedding their
Summer foliage.

there is that indeterminate smell,
Autumn's own, in the air
smokiness and damp earth
mingles in deliciousness

apples from the tree in the garden
lie like mouldering tennis balls,
there being too many to harvest,
are left to rot back into the earth
giving sustenance to next year's crop.

the pink of the cyclamen's
peep out from the decaying leaves
gives a last blush of colour
before the grey of Winter sets in.

morning dew lies heavy on the lawn
which glows with a silver sheen
from the low hanging sun
in early mornings platinum light

as the days shorten and the nights,
speckled with diamond bright stars,
are now masked with light pollution,
circle invisible in heavens perpetual round.

happily these invisible orbs
are still seen within my imagination
clear in the memory of childish eyes
bright and fathomless.

so the world turns in her endless cycle.
towards Winter's cruel days
upon the back of Autumn's gentleness.

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13 - by Ayman Parray


Ragnarok - Poem by Ayman Parray ****SEE BRI'S NOTE at #13, above.

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12 - by Douglas Scotney


Time Travel & Volatilization

I say, Johnny, if Dr Who
had confided to the Jamie Oliver of Ancient Greece,
'J.O., I enjoy dabbing scented oils onto hot bulbs, '
we might be dabbing scented oils onto hot onions to this day.

Sure, ma, 'cause 'bolbos' was 'onion' in Greece;
but what's with the silent 'c' in 'scent'?

Back in the day,
they decided we needed more than 'odour' and 'smell'
for that certain je ne sais quoi.
They went to the Latin for 'to feel', 'sentire'.
'Sent' was already taken, dear:
that's why there's a silent c
in between the 's' and the 'e'.

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11 - by Bharati Nayak


Veiled

Oh lovely bride
From under your dazzling veil
Reveals your face beautiful
With red kumkum and sandal dotted
On your graceful forehead
Doe eyes and black lashes
Curved eyebrows and charming lips
The ornaments you wear
Only adding allures
To your fine features.

The music of band party
The holy sound of sehnai, 'Hulahulies
And conch shells
Mixed with the buzz of gatherings
Signal the arrival of bridegroom you are waiting.
Oh lovely bride
You wear a smile
To welcome the guests
Who have gathered
To give you a farewell

Oh lovely bride
Why do you hide
Those tears
That swell beneath your eyes
Why do you
Cover up those sorrows
With your smile
Why do you choke yourself
With your muffled sobs
Drowned under the sound of conch shells
Why do you douse your burning chest
With your smile, that you know is a masquerade?

Oh lovely bride
Let your tears flow
Let them flow
Till you drain them all
As you know
There won't be an occasion
When you can cry
To your heart's fill
Nor can you smile
To your heart's desire.

Cry, cry, till
You pour them all
Before you give
Final burial
To those tears, which are real
And say bye
To those dreams
Wishes, laughter and love
That you conceal
In your heart
Before you proceed
To the fate unknown.

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10 - by B.m. Biswas


Looking Glasses

my intimate friend told me the story
I laughed and paused as it was a tale of merry:

'it was about two pm
I am out of meal though a man of fame
I get a chance to enter into a restaurant
where occurs the miracle-

everyone I find is eating by left hand
I do not change but take the seat in a corner
any how I manage to sit showing them back
at the end I go to wash my hands at the basin
and I start to set the style of my hair
what?
am I using my left hand?
oh! it is the looking glass!
mine is the fault…

Oh! The poor customers! my poor eating friends! '

he finished his.

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Poet's Note: here I use ‘glasses'…plural to mean
Two eyes…and two times looking…first before eating
And after eating to wash hands….or looking by different
People.

Bri you have the right to make change or as you like
You may put the poets note or not …do as you like
To fit the showcase, …..thanks.

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9 - by Valsa George


Autumnal Collage

Autumn, like an Indian classical dancer, dressed up
Arrives with soft rhymes and quickening steps
She comes aglow, aglow with a rare beauty
Dancing to the bracelet's tinkling song
Her floating robe falls in deep folds around her feet
As she mesmerizes all with moves full of grace
Viewing the flaming colours in assorted display
We are apt to wonder if Nature carefully saved up
All that is best for the closing grand finale
Autumn tints look enchanting all through the land
With pervading green, offset by crimson, citrus yellow
Flaming red, lustrous gold and a faded russet
The air stays crisp and sweet in the ripening fields
While stray clouds ramble in flawless turquoise sky

When autumn is thus all agog like a frenzied dervish
It gives us morbid pictures of death and decay
The trees wrestle to free themselves of their worn cloaks
Causing a cascade of withering autumn leaves
Now they fall scattered in endless stream and lie in piles
Like charred carcasses after a fierce forest fire
The rustle of dry leaves blown by the wind
Falls in our ears with the gabble of migrating birds
Pale sunshine sifts through leafless trees of maple and oak
All those leaves once stayed regal in stations high
But now tossed out like worthless chaff
They come nose diving and fall several meters below
Spreading a hazel curtain over the moist earthen crust
When trampled mercilessly by careless feet
They silently mourn their thankless fate

Greying that comes at the end of each autumnal fall
Reminds us of the pall of gloom that awaits
It is disturbing like the parting song of birds
As they fly southward before the fall of winter

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8 - by Savita Tyagi


Reflections

Early morning!
Lucky ones are still cozy in their beds.
Moon in west looks bright and beautiful.
It travelled all night just to cover the distance
From horizon of east to west end of my back yard.
Its silvery light filters through trees.
The spread of light and black shadows
Is soft as silk upon cold grass.
Barefoot I took few steps,
Soft grass and cold earth tickles my feet.

Fall is here-
With short evenings and cold nights.
Night creatures have stopped screaming.
An unfamiliar sound travels from a distance-
Could it be frogs croaking? I doubt.....

I watch moon's descent behind tall oaks.
Soon the grass, the fence the grapevine
all turn dark...trees look mysterious.
Tonight will be a super moon lunar eclipse.

Moon wanders around my house
In endless cycles.
Like life going through a new phase
In different times, at different place.
Stars follow its queen in celestial abode.
Soon all will disappear in sunlight.

Nature moves in cycles for eons.
Life moves only one way for us.
It rises to move downhill-
Where moon descends and descends-
But sun stops rising…….

9.27.2015

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Bri's note: 'travelled' is a primarily-'British' spelling of
the word this American (me/I) spells 'traveled'.

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7 - by Daniel Brick


How It Went

I asked her to name her favorite season,
and she answered, 'Autumn, ' without a pause
for even one thought, question and answer
bumping into each other. Oh, I launched into
a rhapsody on that season, so happy that we had
the same favorite. At first, I spoke excitedly,
what one of my friends called, 'Running the mouth, '
with sly humor. But I got suddenly quieter,
when I noticed she had fallen deeply silent,
her head bowed, a strand of brown hair
partially covering her face. I brushed it
away very gently. She took my hand and placed it
on her cheek. That was the moment my voice grew
quieter, and I spoke of my love for red-gold leaves,
the clear blue sky scoured free of clouds, the crisp
cool taste of autumn apples, the snap of cold dawn air.
She looked into my eyes, and added softly: '... And
long walks along the Mississippi River.' I was pleased
how she closed my thought with one of her parallel thoughts.

It was much later, during the long weight if winter,
that she admitted, she only answered 'Autumn'
because it was the season she least hated. She said,
with peculiar bitterness, 'I hate time, because it passes....'
Time's duration aggravated you. You expended yourself
shouldering through the waste, the dross.

So it went, that conversation in the dim winter light,
with no rescuing spring breeze to redeem the moment,
and no delight, nothing, a dry harvest followed by
heavy cold, a half a year summed up, futility. For an hour,
we sat in silence, I held your limp body, and marveled
at your loveliness. Without a word, you slipped out
of my grasp, and entered a distance alone.

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6 - by Annette Aitken


Four Seasons In One Day

Dark and gloomy clouds descend
tips of mountains meet their friends
dropping down to say hello
covers with a little snow.

In the valley down below
rain cloud's burst, makes rivers flow
swollen belly fish go wild
down the rapids for a ride.

Rays of sunshine reappears
brings a smile from ear to ear
feel the heat upon my back
better go and grab my hat.

Winds get up, it starts to rain
hard boiled raindrops we call hail
what's that I hear, a clap of thunder
lightening won't be much longer.

Dons my raincoat, gets my wellies
umbrella at the ready
opens the door, what do I see
brilliant sunshine smiling back at me.

Removes my raincoat and my boots
place the umbrella back on its hook
I go to leave, go up the town
oh my god! a snowflake came down.

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5 - by Clarence Prince


It's Online!

Go, find out online
If you have the time
Why the sun shines
But not all the times
Or why the moon's light
Are some travelers' delight
If it's not just for its light
That makes their way bright
Moving darkness out of sight
To avert buying a flash-light
Does it make sense?

Go, find out online
For if nothing has been revealed
Then something has been concealed
A man can see and feel
When it's time for a meal
But he might have to wait
If the food-cart gets in a strait
Say someone locked the gate
And then, he gets into a debate
Dinner shall certainly be late
Does that make sense?

Go, find out online
If drinking wine is Divine
Or should one, from it decline
Though drinking it may be fine
For if there is no pure water
And thirst reaches its border
Then even if crossing the line
One may have a little wine
When it's time to dine
Does it make sense?
Go, find out online


(All rights reserved.
Clarence Prince)

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4 - by Della Perry


Philosopher

Therefore, I have no answers
No reasons echo in my empty cavity of mind
Solutions are hidden in complexity cupboards
Doors jammed shut with rhyme
Responses ran away in opposite directions
Like will'o'wisps disappearing in little clouds of haze.
An unidentified woman
Nameless; retorted air
Just questions;
They mean nothing
Just unanswered
Questions.

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Bri's note: no wonder i don't understand! 'Philosophical' is the topic of this poem on the poem's page.

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3 - by Bri Edwards


Snake, Lawyer, Stick …… [divorce; Courtroom Humor? ; Not Personal; Short-Medium]

I tried marriage once, but to it I did not 'take'.
It was like struggling with a huge python snake!
So I got lawyer, 'Rick', a partner in Rikki, Tikki, Tavi ….,
[LLP].
Rick said that, with 'snake'-cases, he was VERY savvy.

Yeah, living with the 'snake' nearly stole my breath.
She kept tightening her hold on me …. almost to death.
But as the case developed, some problems arose,
which kept my lawyer Rick ….. on his tippy-toes.

Then, near the end, lawyer Rick nearly …. did fail ME.
[It might have been a better fate than to …. pay his fee! ]

We went to court and there sat TV's 'Judge Judy'! !
Rick trembled at the sight, but he fulfilled his duty ….
to me.
The 'snake's' lawyer lied and presented a false witness. NO, two! !
I got nervous, really nervous. What was I to do?

But the snake got nervous too ….., and screwed up her case,
for this is what (believe it OR not) [in the court] took place:

The 'snake' slithered straight at me, wrapping ‘round her coils.
NOT only was she strangling me, but also emitting foul oils.
But, as I said, Rick was savvy with 'snake'-cases.
What happened next brought shock to the jurors' faces.

The Snake squeezed me; she squeezed like 'heck'.
But Rick jumped up and grabbed the Snake by her neck.
She was much bigger than snakes tackled before by Rick,
but she released her coils from me, and I grabbed a great BIG stick.

As Judge Judy and all the jurors (except one: a 'snake') ….
applauded, I beat the snake. I beat the snake for goodness sake.

Together, Rick and I triumphed over 'snake-evil' that day,
but ever since that trial, I RUN ….. when a 'snake' comes my way.


(June 15,2015)

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2 - by Eugene Levich


Considering Two Spanish Poets - Written In Honor Of Ph's Extraordinary Tri-Lingual Poet Sandra Feldman


'All of life is but a dream
And dreams are but dreams! '
'Life is a frenzy...
A shadow, a fiction, an illusion...'
« La vida es sueño
Y los sueños sueños son »
Writes Pedro Calderon.

Then can dreams be more
Real than that which we consider real?
And Amor... is that merely also a Dream,
That feeling that gives us breath of life?
Or is love like life itself—a River...
Which leads only to Death?
« Nuestras vidas son los ríos
Que van à dar en la mar que...
Es el morir... »
Writes Jorge Manrique.

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1- by Aries Profanisaurus


358. Cupid's New Rifle


This is a friendly advance warning
for everyone next valentine's day
Cupid isn't using a bow no more
he's bored of people ducking out of the way

He's gone and bought a love sniper rifle
with the best long range scope
you won't see it coming until you're hit
and then you haven't a hope

It comes with a 30 round magazine
loaded with supersonic darts
he could be round the corner
taking careful aim at your heart

So acquire the best body armour
to shield and protect your chest
don't say I didn't warn you
or that I didn't even try my best

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BRI :)