Immortal– Thom Edwards, May 28, 2012

I was there at the beginning,
and I’ll be there at the end.
I’ve travelled the world a thousand times,
I’ve made enemies and friends.

I’ve been to so many places,
and seen so many things.
I’ve lived what people only dream,
and sat with kings and queens.

I’ve walked a thousand miles,
and I’ll walk a thousand more.
I’ve lived in times of peace and joy,
and fought in countless wars.

I’ve climbed the highest mountains.
and swam the deepest seas.
I’m immune to broken bones,
bullets or disease.

I’ve been to every country,
I’m fluent in every tongue.
I’ve received the highest honours,
and been on the run.

I was at the fall of troy,
I watched Alexander die.
I remember when the towers fell,
I heard Churchill’s speeches live.

I doubt the existence of God,
I don’t believe in fate.
Though the past is gone forever,
I find its never too late.

(c)Copyright Thom 2012


Answer– Manuel Jose Marte, May 28, 2012

Where do the days go?
Do they scurry behind the bold linen clouds,
find shelter in that diamond studded canvas at night?
Or, rather, do you selfishly take them for yourself?
Do you hide the sun in your mouth?
Is this what keeps your cheeks so adorned with a burning and your lips
so invitingly warm?
Did you steal the proud, sometimes hooded moon?
Is it your porcelain plate, and do you dine like a true goddess?
I ask because I am anxious, fleeting and,
I beg and plead for an answer. Yours.

Again– Jeff Bergsma, May 27, 2012

I’ve lost my mind
My own skies
I’m alone
Cooking up nothing at all
Like it was the first time
In my bed
Feather Sheets
Dreaming up something I like

Origin of Poetry- Will Goldin, May 27, 2012

Train station poetry,
Dark art of the english language.
What about this industrialized, automated, technology-saturated
Excuse for “progress”
Makes my pen flow so freely, so unabated?

What impetus is this?
Rusted tracks with faded rust,
Peeling benches with faded peelings,
These are no sights not easy to miss.

Is it the oneness of it all?
The cautious human speech,
The carefree songbird’s screech,
that together do so enthrall?

I know not, save this station does compel me.
And so, these verses I have wrote,
and more verses will be writ,
Ere the urge to create doth rise up and fell me.

Jeremiah 9:4– Will Goldin, May 27,2012

Hollow sinking, skulking, stinking.
Phantom “friends” come falsely,
Or rather, come not.
Leaving me abandoned, alone,
To rot.

Trust not your enemies, and trust less your friends.
Self-serving, soul-less snakes!
Or rather, “friends.”
Forsaking me for the crowd,
For petty trends!

What am I to them but a worn out dog?
They do not need me, yet I need them.
Or rather, I need anyone.
Someone else to lie, cheat, and pretend,
Slither into my world, take my trust and run.

For so long as men love there will be whores,
And so long as men live there will be snakes.
We are selfish creatures through and through.
Some say there yet be a man with honor, loyalty, and respect,
But I’m not sure tis true.

So as I live unto I die,
I will trust not my neighbor, and trust less my friend.
Ere he take my heart
And stretch it past its mortal end.