Erase. A Poem by Guy Farmer

Posted on by

Fail your own children,
But pamper theirs and
Tend to their every need.
A paragon of caring and
Virtue. A smarmy interloper
Peddling love and kindness.
Never acknowledge past
Shortcomings, bask in the
Glow of unconditional regard
From innocents too young to
Realize who you really are.
A second chance to
Pat yourself on the back.
Furtively erase responsibility,
Edit the record.

So I May. A Poem by Guy Farmer

Posted on by

If my child were hurting,
I would do everything in
My power to make sure
She is OK. I would commit
Revolutionary acts like
Setting my own stuff aside and
Putting her needs first.
My thoughts, opinions,
Pronouncements, obscurements,
Insecurities and complications
Wait their turn so I may take
Care of my child instead of
My own issues for a change.

Not a Foodie. A Poem by G.S. Katz

Posted on by

like good food
live in NYC
we’ve got the best restaurants here
short of Paris perhaps

but labeling yourself a “foodie”
is pretentious and pathetic

make sure you don’t go into debt
at those restaurants who laugh at you
when you pay the bill remember
it’s food, not gold

no, not a foodie
look in the mirror
are you really sure
you wanna call yourself that?

Tell Me about Love, Lost or Otherwise. A Poem by G.S. Katz

Posted on by

I am a poet
I am an artist
I work in Sales
I sell stuff that people need but
Its not sexy

My mind is sexual
My vision has always been clear

I write for those who can’t
I write for those who won’t
I write for those who are oppressed
I write for all who are in a sexual prison

I am here
And you can write to me
I need the dialogue
I need those who can feel

Tell me what you want
Tell me what you can’t tell anyone else

Tell me about love, lost or otherwise
Tell me about pain
Tell me about desire and craving and lust
Just tell me

Because I will listen
And I will learn

I am your Dominant
I am your slave

I am …….

His Life. A Poem by Roy K. Austin

Posted on by

Old nails protrude
beyond the rood symbol,
spike the very air we breathe,
the mind to snare the heart -
to stop one thinking from the start;
to thrust his cross on old despair
was this the whole truth, hanging there?
Who built his house upon the sand -
some ancient politics, perhaps,
some early plot as sleight of hand,
but will we ever understand
his one great truth of merit
that all of life transforms to spirit?
As I turn these holy pages
I see his life betrayed, abused
yet see him smile in many sages.

Visit Roy’s website at roykaustin.weebly.com.

Cheap Vodka. A Poem by G.S. Katz

Posted on by

I used to draw from you
Drank your spirit
But you lost yourself in your own lies
And then you wanted the truth
But only if it was your truth

How many times could I want you
How many times was it not enough
You were trained to serve me
But you challenged me by never exposing the real darkness

What do I do with you now
I’m walking away
You are stale beer
Bad wine
Cheap vodka
Not worth my scorn
Or even my lies