mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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This is inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt
Knock knock, Who’s there? I don’t want to get up from my chair
If you have come to beg for candy I can tell you that the cupboard is bare
If you wanted entertainment you can pass through to the cellar room
Where dangerous characters sit around and complain about the gloom
We have no happy servant to greet you, seat you and serve champagne
These days we are lucky to find a few morsels of food to feed the pain
We brought it all upon ourselves, never caring about the fate of others
Sinister side effects of concentrated self delusion eventually smother
The life out of the privileged and those forced into perpetual service
The end of the road comes to everyone, which makes us all very nervous
Please join writers around the world on Thursdays to read, comment, or submit your own post based on these photos.
The trials and daily shockwaves of fresh tribulation
Rock the airwaves, fill the consciousness of the nation
With opinions of experts and way too much information
To process or to put in order our growing indignation
This is the wool that has been pulled over our eyes
Grown ever more perversely mendacious, spewing lies
In the face of true intelligence to slowly hypnotize
All those who settle for willful blindness and deceit
We eagerly await the moment of dishonesty’s defeat
While time passes by your window and blows through your mind
Where are your connections to the natural world?
Are you just habitually blind?
Does the rising of the tide of hatred sting your immortal soul?
Or do you sit in the corner twiddling your thumbs
When everyone becomes a merciless troll?
Did you have a purpose for being born on earth?
If so you better get to work, because things are getting worse
The nursery was filled with heirloom toys and games
The aunts and uncles made suggestions for names
The curse was strong in the family, since the soothsayer
Foretold the demise of the monarchy by a betrayer
A child not of woman born would come along one day
To end the lineage of oppression by which royals play
Centuries have past since the spell had been cast
No heir to the throne has left the dollhouse and rocking horse alone
This poem is inspired by the photo by Sue Vincent, who shares a prompt each Thursday in The Daily Echo. Join writers from around the world to create your own story or poem.
Poets are still on board to submit 30 poems in thirty days on the poetry train. It is not too late to catch a ride at the #NaPoWriMo site. You may be a poet…and not even know it.
Gnosiophobia is rampant in society, at epidemic level
People avoid facts with conviction that confounds all logic
Belief is centered in a guru or master, omniscient bossy devil
Who defines the meaning of richeousness, of thoughts good or tragic
Obedience takes a heavy toll on believers both private and civil
Since discernment is no longer valued the truth has become obsolete
Don’t take this time for granted, don’t surrender to ignorance in defeat
Today’s poem for National Poetry Writing Month was inspired by a post on I didn’t have my glasses on. The science march and politics of late have brought facts and education to my mind. Gnosiophobia does describe the cause of much chaos, in my opinion. It is time we return to the basics….facts and science. Tune in to poetry in April at the #NaPoWriMo site. Find new poets to read and enjoy.
No need to travel to Memphis to feel the vibe
Of the omnipresent monarch of the rock’n roll tribe
He will haunt our memories and dreams
Forever flowing through the connected streams
Where music has traveled in space, breadth and time
Still it is ruled by Elvis Presley in his prime
His signature moves and deep smooth voice
Will often by copied, and for this we rejoice
Feel free to draw down his spirit as your inspiration
He will rain his blessings on your Elvis impersonation
Join poets around the globe to read, write, recite and enjoy poetry in the month of April. #NaPoWriMo website can introduce you to loads of poetic talent. Also, find more poetic fun by following these hashtags on social media. This exciting experiment is open to everyone.
I find that after a weekend away that I am far behind
In my goal to write a poem each day in April this year
Instead of writing poems I left my home and daily grind
To drive in the desert and sleep where I could not hear
A single sound in the night while wildlife crept around
A tiny slice of pristine wilderness preserved for the future
Join the poetry party all month at #NaPoWriMo website, or by following the hashtags on social media. Read, write, recite , enter contests, and find new poets. Somehow today I will catch up by writing two more poems. Then my guilt will be gone.
When history is reviewed in full and we need to name us
The most outrageous public acts throughout the ages
Time will tell who will become the most famous ignoramus
Each era sees the living proof politics are a scary spoof
Only in retrospect will we be able to judge all presidents
Warriors, princes, rebels and kings against all other things
My poem today is inspired by a letter written by Jean-Paul Sartre that contains wisdom I appreciate written in a way I adore:
My dear,
There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
Look back, look forth, look close, there may be more prosperous times, more intelligent times, more spiritual times, more magical times, and more happy times, but this one, this small moment in the history of the universe, this is ours.
And let’s do everything with it. Everything.
Falsely yours,
Jean-Paul Charles Aymard Sartre
Read other poetry at the #NaPoWriMo site and on social media by using these hashtags: Enjoy this month long celebration by finding new poets.
The ebb and flow of oceans and blood
Follow the seasons and phases of the moon
We are created by heaven’s whimsical mood
Educated by stars and riptides we are surfing soon
Riding the waves with ease and graceful flow
Is all a matter of sensing the power from below
Read, write, celebrate National Poetry Writing Month in April. Join us at the #NaPoWriMo site to find new material or submit some of your own.
While the millstone grinds the grain
The farmer is planting another field
Taking gamble that he will gain
When the harvest reveals his yield
His land is full of rocks and clay
He plowed by hand the garden soil
His seeds are saved for the day
The moon phase will bless his toil
He follows old traditions learned from the past
Then he hopes for survival, prays his work will last
Join poets all month for #NaPoWriMo. Read, write, recite, and discover new poems by following the hashtags, and checking the official site, here. Many contests and special events are planned during this special month.