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life : is right now
enjoy this great gift, as long as you have it
do not worry, about tomorrow
cuz tomorrow, is not, more than, a dream.
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*
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Posted: Jul 2018
About this poem:
my short message to you
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*
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life : is just a clever actor, with, two characters
*****
1 - endless, daily phantasies
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2 - sweet, nightly dreams
*****
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Posted: Jul 2018
About this poem:
double faces of A mysterious and real actor
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*
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wish : tear drops, could be able to talk
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wish : soundless screams, had colours on
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wish : hearts of humans, been out and visible
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wish : bitterness, wasn't beneath our sky
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wish : sweet smiles, been remedy to all pains
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Posted: Jul 2018
About this poem:
my very pure wishes
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Remember when our days were simple
as we hugged and wrestled as I kissed
your dimples.
Remember our dreams for the future
seemed so distant and far
We couldn't wait until we could drive
a car
Remember our scraped knees and little ouchies
the games we played in the yard and even on the couchies
Remember the hikes in the woods and climbing trees
as high as we could?
Those summer lazy days and nights that never seemed to end
the soft tender touches I always tried to send
often to remind you that I will always be your friend
Its very sad today seeing how those days have passed
Our lives have changed and we grew apart
yet, you were always in my heart.
Now, I am pondering the memories as I hold your hand
once again as they now have tubes hooked up to
machines to keep you alive until you leave to the promised land
Remember the moments that count
Remember the joys of your heart
Hopefully they will carry you into your next
chance to start
I shall remember you always and the times we had
We were there for each other in good times and bad
I guess its time to let go
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Posted: Jul 2018
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Can anyone say,
When the fair winds will play,
Along the hills of my blue West Virginia?
In best of times,
Coal flowed rich from the mines,
My son, you just had to have been there,
About '59,
Big machines were rolled on line,
And the young wives of miners saw worry,
Beginning of the end,
No they could not pretend,
Their dreams became a cold coal dust slurry,
With strong colliers hands,
They did build up these lands,
Till life's seasons bled thru gray December,
So when it's my time,
Lay me down deep in a coal mine,
So my West Virginia miner's soul will remember.
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Posted: Aug 2018
About this poem:
I'm a native West Virginian. There were many miners in our clan. When mechanized mining and mountain top removal replaced human hands for extracting coal, West Virginia fell into a recession that is still apparent today.
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Author: Joe Walsh
Where......?
Where are we going?
Where......?
Where are we now?
And when......?
Will it be over?
And will we......?
Will we make it somehow?
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Posted: Sep 2018
About this poem:
A pause in our life where we question everything.
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We are a continuum
mother earth
birth of the stars
shining to show the path
seemingly endless
upon immediate concept
We are a longing
time may be considered
mirrored opposites
chance and choice
change unavoidable
as doubt
We are reborn
rocks crumble into liquids
an ocean to master
through deception or respect
Neptune's Fork
shield’s its source
We are a decisive god
associative problematic
Intelligent if not of choice
driven to Columbus’ edge
death & discovery
A Continuum We Are
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Posted: Oct 2018
About this poem:
A zigsaw poem? and just wondering how the pieces-the phrases might fit together. Believe there is a central theme here. If we turn it upside down........
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I've forgotten how to come home
I've forgotten that I am human
I've forgotten life outside my world
Most of all I've forgotten how to love
Where are the sons and daughters
Where are those caring life partners
Where are those joys and laughters
When times we only had each other
Some are gone beyond the ocean
Some are lost in work commitment
Some are buried in mobile connection
What that's left in this world is forgotten
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Posted: Oct 2018
About this poem:
Most of you can relate to this
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online today!
I can smell the wood fires burning
Lighting up the hillside with their smoke
Like so many chimneys on the ridge line
Burning bright hot with seasoned oak
Casting up spires like great castles
Cathedrals with styles most baroque
Warmth is promised in abundance
Whatever your comfort may invoke
We gather round the table for supper
And in great earnest a prayer is spoke
The candles burn throughout the night
Such peaceful purpose they evoke
A mood that burns with a soft glow
Good hearted as our mountain folk
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Posted: Nov 2018
About this poem:
Late Fall, a church harvest supper, up in the mountains of New England
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In The 19th Century there was a place called a Magic or Novelty
Shop. These shops had so many things for sale: Magic tricks, masks, indoor fireworks, itching powder, magic snow, kids tricks and crazy gimmicks to amuse just about everyone. It was very popular with kids who bought cheap jokes to play on their friends at parties, Halloween or special occasions, even at school the tricks were there, trick soap was given to a student to wash his hands, as he washed his hands and face, he realized his hands were black from the soap. There was itching powder dropped down the necks of victims as they started to scratch their bodies, trick magic wands that go out of shape if held the wrong way, playing cards Old Maid, Snap and Happy Families, as well the Beetle Games. These shops eventually disappeared by the 1970's, although other gimmicks lived on...Laughing teeth, Slinkies, the man in the outhouse in a toilet being flushed with
a sign "Goodbye Cruel World", another man in toilet house when the door opened water was squirted, the bird that drinks water swinging up and down by perpetual motion, steel balls tapping endlessly, things will never be the same, as they disappeared forever.
Author..John Ginesi
Written..8th November 2018
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Posted: Nov 2018
About this poem:
A nostalgic romp through history we will recall 'The Novelty Shop'
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