Little Petals In The Wind:A Facebook Anthology Of Shorter Poems by Frances Ayers-Editor (electronic reader .TXT) 📕

Idly I stood
Under a canopy of thought
Slumbering
Distracted
And disturbed.

Slowly
I conquered the canopy of thought
Defining
Molding
Directing
A wayward thought assessing.

~Ruth C. Ibanez © 2012

Voices

I found my voice in the words I speak
I found wisdom in the voice I seek
I found my voice in the words I wrote
I found my voice in verses wrought

I found meaning in the voice of life
I found life in the voice of strife
I found voices colorful loud with passion
I found voices with powerful allusion.

I found assurance in the voice of a child
A voice calming soothing innocent reviled
I found a child with a voice of gold
I found a child promised, the voice of old.

~Ruth C. Ibanez © 2012

Roseville Nidea

Roseville is an aspiring poet from a small local in the Philippines. As a delightful reader, she has the love for Literature with a deep love for Greek Mythology and classical literary pieces. She later started writing as a means of fending off boredom during a stay in a country far away from home, and from there it grew into passion. Penning poetry now becomes the ardor in her course of communicating the truth; mimicking nature and human quest are the selected genre.

Anthem To A Friend

I feel you burned out striding
In the sand of time
Through the passage that is unkind;
I speak unto you :
Rest if you must,
But do not stop, weep nor repine.
Come! Sit with me awhile;
I’ll lend my precious time.
I’ll hum with you,
With our your sweet uplifting lullaby.

© Roseville Nidea


Funeral Becomes A Must

Funeral of the Mind
Becomes must though should not
Aggregation-and-Aggravation
Be in halt.

Funeral of the Heart
Becomes must though should not
Affliction-and-Abjection
Be in halt.

© Roseville Nidea

Dissimilar

You are pragmatic, I say
I am Romanticist, I claim
To which essential matter is the bridge
That fills the space in between

© Roseville Nidea

Rainstorm

Heaven is deeply cracking mad again,
Pouring endlessly giant drops of rain;
Wind blows like a creepy billowing moan,
Slashing everything not once but more.

When will these down pour cease I do not know;
The only thought I know is fear and gloom.

© Roseville Nidea

Wish

Wish upon Cassiopeia
I wish I am a kite
In the wind I’ll ride
I’ll fly away awhile
From this empty mine

© Roseville Nidea

In Search of Light

Striding through strangest vast brine
Sailcloth moves the ship
Dove with olive leaf in the beak
Guides the vessel in to the light.

© Roseville Nidea



Elizabeth Castillo

As a feature Writer/Journalist/Short Story writer/Poet/Blogger whose mission is to share her creativity through pen pushing,Elizabeth sees herself as a keen observer of beautiful things around her.She is a natural born Artist from the Philippines.She graduated with a Bachelor Of Science degree in Business Administration,with a major in Management.Elizabeth also completed another course in Computer Programming,and currently works as an Online English Instructor for Koreans and as a freelance Writer.Previously,she worked as a News Correspondent for a local community newspaper and as a feature Writer for a private company’s corporate magazine.Elizabeth started writing and exhibiting her poetic prowess when she was just in her elementary days – an era when she was still this shy, unassuming lass.She describes herself as an arts and nature lover as well as a frustrated photographer.Her favorite authors are Stephen King, John Grisham and Paolo Coelho.Elizabeth has also self published her own poem ezine, Poetic Lizzy with 3 released issues.In addition,her work has appeared in 5 anthologies,the latest of which is "Live Life: The Daydreamer's Journal",part of a global charity for the benefit of the American Cancer Research.She is also a world record holder for most Artists Contributing to a Cover of an Anthology and is part of the currently released "Breaking Silence: The In-Depth Words of a Poet".


Misty Twilight-(Haiku)

twilight
touch of gray and black
new day awakening

Elizabeth E. Castillo Copyright 2011

Choco Fright

the sweet aftertaste
of delectable chocolate-
melancholic.

Elizabeth E. Castillo Copyright 2011

Sad No More ( Haiku)

a lingering smell
feels the air-
unknown feeling.

Elizabeth E. Castillo Copyright 2011
***my first try for a cinquain

Sinner

You are
One sinner here
Quite condemned...to die forth
Get up from the ruins...poor lad
Yes free.

Elizabeth E. Castillo Copyright 2011

Dancing Lady

an orchid
dancing lady-
beauteous sight.

**first try for haiku

Elizabeth E. Castillo Copyright 2011


WILFREDO M CHICA

Of Cebu City, Philippines, is a freelance writer/editor on and off the Web. Retired from teaching Literature/Creative Writing(5 yrs) and Journalism(all media--15 yrs),Willy Fred was gifted with a love of words by his mother and goaded into reading and writing by his father.He started writing in high school where he edited the school paper and continued in college as a writer/editor. As a teacher he urged his students to read,and write.Willie has published poems, essays, opinion columns and features in Philippine newspapers and magazines.His only international publication was in ETC, the quarterly of the Institute of General Semantics,in which issue his piece, "Hand Writing" saw print


This Poem Wasn't Of Woman Born

from seed of stranger dumb
planted in my mind's womb

multiplying in gestate
in cauldron inchoate

seeking life force to feed
a cry of love and need
twas but a tiny thread
woven in loomlike bed

inserting, in pulling
inlaying, a crafting

of fabric into quilt
in patterns of my kilt

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica August 2010

The Talker

The talker in my head
thinks he's me.
The fool.

Doesn't he know,
if he ever did,
that some One
stole my soul

and sent it home
to the Whole?

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica August 2011

Craving

No faker he but who submits
to lie naked
on piercing bits

Sweet pleasures of neural itch
he surrenders
so love can reach

What Francis sought
upon the snow,
banking fire river's flow,

Spurning the gift
of vital glow,

To burn anew:
the divine to know

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica September 2010

Simplication

You know this I guess
We have forgot what it was
we in each had sought

Our desires mere lust
wanting more to take than give
as now we take leave

Our gestures now jests
you dancing me dancing you
each self seeking self

moaning mutual yelp
yielding to trust the savage
our souls we ravage

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica August 2011
After Rain-Haiku

leftover tears drip
down valley of unkissed cheeks
as skin remembers

Copyright Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica March 2011

Reading Braille

Us alone that night
we are one in dark

I read you
You read me

We find by feel
We reach by touch

No sight is seeking
as skin is craving

Deaf too our ears
Mute our tongues

No utterance from hence
when sighs dwell in silence

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica February 2011

Pillow (haiku)

a sweat soaked pillow
cuddles cradles lovely you
hey it's my torso

Copyright Wilfredo M.Chica May 2012

Alan Gilbert

Alan was born and still lives in Southampton,a port city on the south coast of England.He studied art and psychology gaining his degree in 1984. Alan enjoys reading, chess, swimming and has a large and varied music collection. To date Alan Gilbert has had four books published and has contributed to several anthologies. He is married with three children.

Oceans

Considering oceans
Fearsomely wild,
Eerily peaceful
Fathoms below.
Life's derivation
Bountiful harvest
Calmly forgiving
Wondrous show.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012

Caprice

She's a whimsical dreamer
With rings on her toes,
A gypsy heart spirit
In Mardi Gras clothes.
Cavorting with nature
That blessed her to be
A harvest moon dancer
Enchanting and free.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.


Early Mist

There poetry in river mist
In river mist at morning
There is romance in the amber
Of the gauzy rising sun.
In the stillness of the early glow
Before the birds are singing
Their sonorous exaltation
For another day begun.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.


Secrets

The narrative of nature’s ways
No human art could ever read,
Who could foretell the dazzling bloom
That stirs within the humble seed.

Each lowly chrysalis conceals
Its treasure from capricious eye,
Then splits at the appointed hour
To grub, then splendid butterfly.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.


Lacie Cescas Jay

Lacie is a single mom who lives in Florida with her three small children,
writing poetry is just an outlet for my emotions.


Boat

I’m slowly starting to sink, I’m trying to keep afloat.
I’m trying to hold on tight, to ride the waves in this lonely boat.
But these broken paddles are hard to hold when they keep on cracking.
And with every crack, and every crease my grip starts slipping.
The paddles cracked, and my life vest is made of lead.
And this boat has a gaping hole that’s rushing water in.
The waves have gotten rowdy, and my balance I can’t keep.
I will go down with this ship if I have to, into the darkness of the deep

Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2011.


Muffled

Place your hand upon my lips so you can muffle out my cries.
I’m in dire need of something more than what in here does lie.
The truth proves to be deceptive, and your lies are so mundane.
But I keep coming back for something,
something I’m almost sure of that I’ll never feel again.

Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2011

Moment

Hanging by a moment swiftly falling through the sky.
Holding onto nothing as this world passes me by.Grasping onto memories, to keep from melting down.
Reaching out for anything to slow before I drown.Slowly sinking, into the ocean, vast and deep.
Secrets die within me, as I’m drifting off to sleep.

Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2012

Autumn

Just like a gorgeous autumn day,
I will fill your heart with color.
When the leaves are strewn about
by slow gusts of wind,
I will whisper my love through your soul.
When the warm August rains
wash away what we once knew,
I will show you
that there is much we shall know.

Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2011

Crumbling Dream

As this dream crumbles,
it falls piece by piece to the floor.
Nothing more than a bit of rubble.
A memory of what could have been
is now just dust
to be swept up and thrown away
.
Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2011

Countless

Countless nights, and countless tears that cover my pillowcase.
A silent pool of dreams left to dry in the still air.
A moment once here, is now gone again.
A love so painful the lines have blurred.
The whisper in my heart that will forever remember your face.
A night followed by many, of sorrow, yet no embrace.

Copyright Lacie Cescas Jay 2011

Omoruyi