Wind

by Dawn Pisturino

Wind, wind, holler and cry,

The windows are shaking, the doors want to fly!

The old tree is creaking, it surely must fall;

The chimney is cracking, bricks, mortar and all!

How everything shudders! I mustn't delay:

We have, it would seem, a tornado today.

May 3, 1986

Au Vent                                                             To the Wind

Souffles, O vent,                                                Blow, O wind,

Dis à mon oreille                                               Speak into my ear

Un doux mot d’amour;                                     A sweet word of love;

Emportes mes rêves,                                         Carry away my dreams,

Rapportes mes souhaits,                                   Bring back my wishes,

Et n’oublies pas, pour toujours,                       And don’t forget, always,

Ὰ chanter une belle chanson.                            To sing a beautiful song.

5 mai 1985                                                            May 5, 1985

pour mon ami, J.J.                                              for my friend, J.J.

Paris, France                                                        Paris, France

 Copyright 2012 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Subliminal Perception

POEMS BY HOLLY SPENCER

subliminal perception

The sunlight wakes the dormant life

The mind it struggles with the strife

A phoenix moves with wondrous eyes

The fire grows with binding ties

A stranger he waves

His smile is bright

Remembering this on the edge of night

The moonlight glows

A ghost I see

Beyond . . . my realm of reality

A spiritual muse

Entices me in

Away from a world where I've always been

Playing with fire

Riding the wave

I still can't seem, to change my day

Is it all in my head?

Is it real -- is it not

Am I totally ready to change the plot?

Copyright©2010 Holly Spencer. All rights reserved.

A Kiss Goodnight

You dark and sinister bastard

Why did you visit me that way?

I didn't see you coming on that unsuspecting day.

I never heard a word from you,

Nor did I feel your breath.

I didn't see you watching me while I lay there at rest.

You waited there for a moment right

And then you made your move.

You leaned in for the kiss of death

And surely I would swoon.

I don't know why you changed your mind, nor do I really care.

A stolen kiss to take my soul

Is just too much to bear.

Be gone with you, do not come back I have my life to live.

Some day when I am old and gray

That kiss you then can give.

Copyright©2011 Holly Spencer. All rights reserved.

posted on Almost Dead Poets Society, July 23, 2011, Facebook

In Spite of it All

I fall in love with you

In spite of myself

Everything you do

My eyes in awe --

Yet everything I do

You opaquely disregard

Now you've weaved a web

And drawn me in

And love me every now and then

You are my master

I am your pawn

I make no move

Without your command

You love me, yes?

As you do say

Or love this game

With me you play

Why do I love this game

In spite of myself?

Copyright©2011 Holly Spencer. All rights reserved.

posted on Almost Dead Poets Society, July 23, 2011, Facebook

IT'S NOT -- MY WEINER

Just don't know what to say.

You're the topic of the day

Had the power in your hand

To abuse all over the land

Ok so you were elected

And your wife you soon neglected

Reality -- so does bite

So you trip to cyber night

All the virtual pretty girls

Got YOUR head all in a swirl

Stick your finger in the pie

Then tell a mountain full of lies

Next time you show your dick

Don't be such a twit

Learn -- a little -- computer savvy

So we all miss -- MR. HAPPY.

Copyright©2011 Holly Spencer. All rights reserved.

Sunday Nite Poetry Chill & Thrill, June 26, 2011

THANKS, HOLLY, FOR LETTING ME SHARE YOUR POEMS.

GREAT JOB!

Dawn

Petals

Poems by Amy Lowell (1874-1925)                           

PETALS
Life is a stream
On which we strew
Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
The end lost in dream,
They float past our view,
We only watch their glad, early start.
Freighted with hope,
Crimsoned with joy,
We scatter the leaves of our opening rose;
Their widening scope,
Their distant employ,
We never shall know. And the stream as it flows
Sweeps them away,
Each one is gone
Ever beyond into infinite ways.
We alone stay
While years hurry on,
The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

A Tulip Garden

Guarded within the old red wall's embrace,
Marshalled like soldiers in gay company,
The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry
Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace
Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!
Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry,
With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye
Of purple batteries, every gun in place.
Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread,
With torches burning, stepping out in time
To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead,
We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime
Parades that army. With our utmost powers
We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.

HISTORICAL NOTE:  Amy Lowell (1874-1925) was an American poet who posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize in 1926.  A member of the Imagist school, she was heavily influenced by the poet, Ezra Pound, preferring free verse over traditional poetic forms.

SHORT POEMS

by Dawn Pisturino

LOVE YOUR MAN

Love your man and love him well;

Give all you can and time will tell

The consequences, good or ill.

But love him still.

September 8, 1985

ATTACK ON LIBYA

All around the terrorist camp

The monkey chased the weasel;

The monkey thought 'twas all in fun:

Pop!  Goes the weasel.

A billion for the air raid,

A million for the missile;

That's the way the money goes:

Pop! Goes the weasel.

April 16, 1986

(Based on the nursery rhyme)

Even more apropos today!

Copyright ©2011 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.