Poet

The Negro River Cries. A Poem by Author: Renee’ B. Drummond-Brown

by

The rivers run
through our veins
like the over flowing
blood
O’
Calvary stains.

Home of the Indian brave
land
plowed by slaves,
‘dawgs’
‘scent’ US
swimming for ‘dayze’
crocodiles
had their way
mosquitoes
were A OK.
Just had to wade,
wade in ‘dem’ waters’
‘children’s’
for ‘daze’
years,
months,
minutes.
seconds,
an
unto
this very day.
But
fo sho
‘we’ze’
‘KNOWS’
‘HOWS’
to wade!
(In His waters ‘chillins’)

One river flows
divided
into four,
for our blood shed
out of Eden
she watered
our garden
forever
and a day
no-more.
Pison
gave us that increase
to do His will
not as we please
for
she flowed
the whole land
of Hav’ilah.
Bdellium,
onyx
and stones
oh my~~~
Yeah
‘den’ ‘dear’
‘wuz’
‘sum’
rivers gold,
cries,
of ancient old.
True ‘dat’…
‘Dat’ escape route
‘wuz’ well-to-do
as foretold.
For certain,
THIS
we do know
‘cos’
‘dat’ word
say’s it ‘AIN’T’ so

Two rivers flowing
divided into four
for our blood shed
out of Eden
she watered
our garden
forever
and a day
no-more.
Secondly,
Gihon
flows
bursting forth
around
the grounds
of Cush
make no mistake
‘bout’ it~~~
hush,
hush,
they’re here
an
can hear
us
just the same
just
shhhh~~~
Someone’s ‘callin’ OUR name???
(It ain’t Jesus)

Three rivers flowing
divided into four
for our blood shed
out of Eden
she watered
our garden
forever
and a day
no-more.
The Tigris
flows eastward
like that babe’s Star,
we’d come
to later see
as we stride
rapidly
along side
‘dem’
‘nats’ an fleas.
Father forgive us
‘cept’
do not pass us by
PLEASE!!!
(Pass US not O’ gentle Savior)

Four rivers flowing
divided into four
for our blood shed
out of Eden
she watered
our garden
forever
and a day
no-more.
Euphrates
tarry on
till we come.
Sojourn
our waterways,
channel
fruitfulness
for our
children’s;
children’s
children’s
absolute bliss
gators ‘n’ snakes
share no tree o’ knowledge
‘bout’ this
an
no shadows to follow
‘wit’ a death
kiss
or
kiss of death
whichever it is

NO MORE
rivers flowing
divided into four
for our blood STOP shedding
out of Eden
when He watered
our gardens
forever
and a day
but He waters it
no-more.
(Edens tamper-proofed for sure)
We ‘gotta’ wade in the water children;
like never before.

A B.A.D. poem

Dedicated to: We ‘gotta’ wade in the water children; like never before.

“And a river went out of Eden to water the garden;
and from thence it was parted,
and became into four heads.
The name of the first is Pison:
that is it which compasseth the whole land of Hav′ilah,
where there is gold;
And the gold of that land is good:
there is bdellium and the onyx stone.
And the name of the second river is Gihon:
The same is it that compasseth the whole land of Ethiopia.
And the name of the third river is Hiddekel:
that is it which goeth toward the east of Assyria.
And the fourth river is the Euphra′tes”
(Genesis 2:10-14 KJV).

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“SOLD: TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER”
and
“Renee’s Poems with Wings are Words in Flight-I’ll Write Our Wrongs”

No part of this poem may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author.
All Rights Reserved@ October 21, 2016.

 
 
renee-i
 
 
I, Renee’ B. Drummond-Brown, am the wife of Cardell Nino Brown Sr. and from our union came Cardell Jr., Renee and Raven Brown. I am the offspring of Mr. and Mrs. Peter C. Drummond of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My siblings are Delbert D. Drummond and the late Pastor Shawn C. Drummond. I was born in North Carolina, at Camp Lejeune US Naval Hospital. I am a graduate of Geneva College of Pennsylvania, and my love for creative writing is undoubtedly displayed through my very unique style of poetry, which is viewed globally. My poetry is inspired by God and Dr. Maya Angelou. Because of them I pledge this: “Still I write, I write, and I’ll write!”
 
“Renee’s Poems with Wings are Words in Flight” is flown across the seas by God’s raven. There are several Scriptures that I love; however, this one speaks volumes during this ‘season’: “And he sent forth a raven, which went forth to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the earth.” (Genesis 8:7 KJV)
 
 
 
 
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Press Release. Key of Mist. A New Volume of Poems Translated from Spanish

by

 
 
guadalupe-grande-2001
 
 
GUADALUPE GRANDE 
Madrid, 1965. 
 
She has written the following books of poetry: El libro de Lilit (1995), La llave de niebla (2003), Mapas de cera (2006) and Hotel para erizos (2010).
  
She has been translated into French in the book Métier de crhysalide (translation by Drothèe Suarez and Juliette Gheerbrant (2010) and into Italian, in the volume Mestiere senza crisalide (translation by Raffaella Marzano (2015). She made the selection and translation of La aldea de sal (2009), an anthology of Brazilian poet Lêdo Ivo, together with poet Juan Carlos Mestre.
  
Her creative work extends to the territory of photography and visual poetry.http://guadalupegrande.blogspot.com.es/
 
 
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Amparo Arróspide (Argentina) has published five poetry collections: Presencia en el Misterio, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinación en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pañuelos de usar y tirar and En el oído del viento, as well as poems, short stories and articles on literature and films in anthologies and international magazines. She has translated authors such as Francisca Aguirre, Javier Díaz Gil, Luis Fores and José Antonio Pamies into English, together with Robin Ouzman Hislop, who she worked with for a period as co-editor of Poetry Life and Times, a Webzine. Her translations into Spanish of Margaret Atwood (Morning in the Burned House), James Stephens (Irish Fairy Tales) and Mia Couto (Vinte e Zinco) are in the course of being published, as well as her two poetry collections Hormigas en diáspora and Jacuzzi. She takes part in festivals, recently Transforming with Poetry (Leeds) and Centro de Poesía José Hierro (Getafe).
 
 
robin-portrait-july-sotillo-2016-by-amparo
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Motherbird.com, Artvilla.com & Poetry Life & Times, his recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Poetic Bond Volumes, Phoenix Rising from the Ashes (an international anthology of sonnets) and The Honest Ulsterman. His last publications are a volume of collected poems All the Babble of the Souk & Key of Mist, a translation from Spanish of the poems by the Spanish poetess Guadalupe Grande, both are published by Aquillrelle.com and available at all main online tributaries. For further information about these publications with reviews and comments see Author Robin..
 
 
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The Cultivated Ones. A Poem by Janet P. Caldwell.

by

Editor’s Note: Janet recently deceased Sept.27th 2016. Writer/Editor/Poet she was a good friend & will be greatly missed
 
 
The pampered roses are are all bred
much like step-ford wives to look alike.
From seedling to flowering
with abundant care, they do survive.
 
The gardener making sure they lay in measured mulch
are properly watered, holding the moisture
to prevent unwanted weeds from drinking and growing.
Halting the choking of a prized dressing of a cultivated lawn.
 
Unaware they are slaves to man’s idea of beauty
and never serving themselves.
 
Now, look at the daisy, some say she’s ugly,
just a wild, uncultured weed.
I say she’s a beauty, bending with the wind
growing sturdy through arid ground, so wild and free.
 
She’s the clever one, she’s cast off conformity.
 
 
Janet P. Caldwell December 16, 2015
final_mom
 
 
Janet P. Caldwell is an American poet from the USA. Her books are available on her website, (see below) Amazon and Inner Child Press. Janet says the poem is about many things, racism, politics, rebellion and not being “the good little soldier or carbon copy of the uninformed” that she was supposed to be. Once a poem is in the world, it belongs to the reader for interpretation. Please enjoy.
 
 
“our words change the world”
Janet Caldwell Web-site, Books and Poetry
http://www.janetcaldwell.com/

 
 
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My Sun is Orange. A Poem by William S. Peters, Sr.

by

my morning Sun is orange
The yellow is stained
with the Blood of my People
for that is what we
are reminded of
each day

 

when it rises from the East
to greet the world
i see my world
clearly

 

we once lived with a hope
that the atrocities of Hate
War
and indifference
would go away
but it did not

 

my hope has been misplaced
somewhere
and i can not remember
where i have set it down

 

it might have been that day
i lost my arm
or that day
when my Father was jailed
or that day
when my Sister was killed
she was only 3

 

no, i think i lost my hope
the day
my Mother no longer cried

 

her eyes have been dry
for many a year now
and somehow
by some grace
she still has enough love in her
to hug me
once in a while
through that pained smile
that still adorns her face
just so she won’t completely break

 

there is a noise i hear
it is a loud silence
that stays with me
through my callousness
for the gunfire
and the bombs
and the screams
i can not hear them

 

they have long ago
assaulted and killed
the dreams of my Family
my village
my people
and it is now working on
Humanity

 

where is the sanity
in this methodology
to be found

 

every day is “Ground Zero”
where i live
every where i look
i see Ground Zeros
and we have lost count
of those who
are no more
because of what you call War

 

but you and i
never had a dispute
that i know of
If so, please tell me what i did wrong
to cause you harm
that you should exact such wretchedness
upon me
and others like me

 

i know not of the Politics
of it all.
i have never met a Politician
are they so different
than we the people ?

 

if it’s Oil
i give it to you
if it’s right
take it freely
i will not raise nor put my hand
against that
of my Father’s children

 

there was a time
when all i thought of
was simply
finding Joy in my life
i have since given up that quest
for i see far too much
of that other stuff
which deserves not a name

 

my Sun is no longer Yellow
but i do pray my Brother
that yours is

 

my Sun is Orange

 
 

This is dedicated to all the Villages, Peoples across our Globe who must endure

the Politics and Sickness of War.

Bill Utah Summer
 
Bill is an avid Writer / Poet who has been committed to this path since 1966. He currently has to his credit over 70 Published Books as well as a myriad of Newspaper and Magazine Articles. Bill supports the venue of Creative Expression regardless of form. He also is an activist for the progression and evolution of Humanity and its Love of each other.
 
Recently (September 2015) Bill was honored to be named the Poet Laureate at the Kosovo International Poetry Festival where his book The Vine Keeper was showcased. He was also awarded The Golden Grape Award.
 
Bill currently serves as the CEO of Inner Child Enterprises, ltd., Managing Director of Inner Child Press, Executive Producer of Inner Child Radio and Executive Editor of Inner Child Magazine. His life partner Janet P. Caldwell stands by his side in support of the Inner Child vision
 
For more of Bill, visit his personal web Site at : www.iamjustbill.
 
for Inner Child . . .
 
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‘Desperate Seeker’ Collected Poems. Gary Beck. (i-v)

by

 
Gary Beck Image
 

    ‘Desperate Seeker’ is an unpublished poetry collection that uncovers the anger, fear and horror that resounds in the powerful struggle of existence.

 
i.
 
Deception of the Arts
 
The rigors of science
became too demanding
for unwilling students
unprepared for effort,
conditioned by tv
to passive response
to the learning process.
But Americans believed
in higher education,
a cultural imperative
propounded by their fathers
who left the blue-collar class
by attending college,
then wearing suits to work.
 
Competing colleges
obliged unmotivated hordes
by inventing liberal arts,
a superficial taste
of various subjects,
an opportunity
to find a direction
by sampling career choices.
And millions got degrees
that left them unqualified
for any profession,
but they were educated,
deluded into thinking
they were functional.
 
Then the real world reared its head
and illusions melted away
leaving tedious employment,
a poor consolation
for shattered expectations.
So they worked resentfully
deprived of luxury
offered tantalizingly
by bigger and bigger tvs
colorfully displaying
what they could only afford
by purchasing on credit
and going into debt.
 
The best of the liberal arts tribe
taught in inner city schools,
brought social services
to those in desperate need,
yet as our population increased
math and science were neglected,
inventiveness began to fade,
a plague of lawyers roamed the land
expending enormous energy
promoting the concept of lawsuits
to dissatisfied citizens
guided by clever exploiters
to courtrooms of contention
seeking compensation
for the loss of loved ones,
grief replaced by greed.
 
The owners of America
contributed a system
that brainwashed our youngsters
with high moral concepts,
democracy, equality,
removed from their reality
by the vast economic gap
between haves and have nots,
yet many of them believed
they were as good as anyone else,
until the fragile line of credit
suddenly evaporated,
smashing family security
providing no consolation
in the liberal arts.
 
ii.
 
Nurturing Gap
 
Alienation blossoms
faster than comfort
in fractured homes,
roles eroded
by changing society,
television parent
unable to give
preparation to prevent
future confusion.
 
iii.
 
Street People VI
 
I sit indoors
sheltered from rain
watch from my window
city procession
workers, shoppers, tourists,
barely functional homeless,
as intent on arrivals
as the passersby,
lacking urgency,
achieving destination
without comforts.
 
iv.
 
Fading Glory
 
American holidays
retain popularity
on special occasions
with gifts, or fireworks,
more and more forgetting
memorable battles,
our soldier’s sacrifices,
too easily distracted
by internet diversions.
 
v.
 
Noblesse Obligé
 
Declining empires
frequently abandoned
their troops abroad
when they couldn’t maintain
the exercise of power.
The British pioneered
bringing the troops home,
setting an example
for fading America
not to desert
young men and women
doing their duty,
risking their lives
in foreign lands.
 
 
Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theater director, and as an art dealer when he couldn’t make a living in theater. He has 11 published chapbooks and 3 more accepted for publication. His poetry collections include: Days of Destruction (Skive Press), Expectations (Rogue Scholars Press). Dawn in Cities, Assault on Nature, Songs of a Clerk, Civilized Ways, Displays, Perceptions (Winter Goose Publishing). Fault Lines, Tremors, Perturbations, Rude Awakenings and The Remission of Order will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. Conditioned Response (Nazar Look). Resonance (Dreaming Big Publications). His novels include: Extreme Change (Cogwheel Press) and Flawed Connections (Black Rose Writing). Call to Valor will be published by Gnome on Pigs Productions and Acts of Defiance will be published by Dreaming Big Publications. His short story collection, A Glimpse of Youth (Sweatshoppe Publications). Now I Accuse and other stories will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines. He currently lives in New York City.

 
 
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DREAM CATCHERS. A Poem by Steve DeFrance.

by

 

Things
are
what they
are.
Coloring Jupiter green
won’t make it so.
 
Yesterday’s meaning
was for yesterday—
today the sun comes up
on another planet
entirely.
 
One night’s sleep
divides us
from an uncertain past.
 
The dead & the living
can’t mix often except
in poetry or dreams
where everyone’s illustrated
in a few fictive lines  
purple cows here or there—as words
exculpate whatever they please.
 
Until they don’t and then
they damn the very thing
they’ve once raved about.
 
One minute now
until this day’s cares disappear.
Daylight hisses into dark,
and night barges into the frightened
corners of our mind—until at last,
the eternal stage manager lowers our curtain,
and consciousness skips,
among stars & rampaging raptors,
slipping right off the spinning earth.
 
 

steve-defrance

 
 
Steve DeFrance is a widely published poet, playwright and essayist both in America and in Great Britain. His work has appeared in literary publications in America, England, Canada, France, Ireland, Wales, Scotland, India, Australia, and New Zealand. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize in Poetry in both 2002 and 2003. Recent publications include The Wallace Stevens Journal, The Mid-American Poetry Review, Ambit, Atlantic, Clean Sheets, Poetrybay, Yellow Mama and The Sun. In England he won a Reader’s Award in Orbis Magazine for his poem “Hawks.” In the United States he won the Josh Samuels’ Annual Poetry Competition (2003) for his poem: “The Man Who Loved Mermaids.” His play THE KILLER had it’s world premier at the GARAGE THEATRE in Long Beach, California (Sept-October 2006). He has received the Distinguished Alumnus Award from Chapman University for his writing. Most recently his poem “Gregor’s Wings” has been nominated for The Best of The Net by Poetic Diversity. For further work by Steve DeFrance see www.Artvilla.com & Poetry Life & Times

 
 
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Sweet Little Sperm. A Video Poem by Tony Martin – Woods

by

 
SWEET LITTLE SPERM
 

 
 
tony republic
 
 
Tony Martin-Woods started to write poetry in 2012, at the age of 43, driven by his political indignation. That same year he also set in motion Poesía Indignada (Transforming with Poetry), an online publication of political poetry that he edits. Tony is a political and artistic activist who explores the digital component of our lives as a means to support critical human empowerment. He is also known in the UK for his work as an academic and educator under his non-literary name. He writes in English and Spanish and has published his first volume of poetry Los viajes de Diosa (The Travels of Goddess) 2016.
 
 
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FUD. A Poem by Robin Ouzman Hislop

by

 
 
Fud helped temper attacks
trump a three-word promise longer than ever before
the up ones sleeve trump card
trump up trick, as Day of Judgement
raised the dead on intestinal gas through the anus
to expel hopping into an atom splitting fission
similar referendum wins multiple atoms to split
exponential increase in atoms splitting into right wing populism
the number of some which will awaken destruction
to take war to Europe
and based on history applaud the great victory
to win back control from now fractured EU.
 
The final trumpet that taps into a seething and of course many
but based on history
the Christening of them leads to nothing happening
but Utopia argumentum ad metum
– not ace in the hole card period of time –
compare trombone at dawn by several commentators
that Brexit, a trick with a trump is not caused by
split geyser of anti-immigrant sentiment suggestions
and ascent in part we are entering one moral due to another
according to the belief of thousands within an extremely short period
on a very broad scale.
 
Possible scenarios are infinite
to build a wall has many awful faults prevented
hit the economy with a strong force of natural selection trump
which might represent to trump up a convincing EU
as well as also one major wave of inward-facing
and they in turn causing all the indicators
that were in case against the last EU for all its UK causes
automatically honour targeting frail people
in their many moving parts
as their combined energy weakens.
Fear uncertainty doubt FUD call force in suppressing
in the face of won overnight
by those who due to the massive complexity
by the hundreds of splits causing multiple moral Utopia
argumentum ad impact
of the first atom of all ages and killing. Of all ages and killing.
 
 

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Robin Ouzman Hislop, born UK, a reader in philosophy & religions, has traveled extensively throughout his lifetime but now lives in semi- retirement as a TEFL teacher and translator in Spain & the UK.
 
Robin was editor of the 12 year running on-line monthly poetry journal Poetry Life and Times. In 2013 he joined with Dave Jackson as co-editor at Artvilla.com, where he presently edits Poetry Life & Times, Artvilla.com, Motherbird.com.
 
He’s been previously published in a variety of international magazines, later publications including Voices without Borders Volume 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review (Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Poetic Bond Volumes (thepoeticbond.com) and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes (a recently published international Anthology of Sonnets). His last publication is a volume of collected poems All the Babble of the Souk available at all main online tributaries.
 
 
 
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