Everything gives off energy, People give out vibes that are clingy To their character, soul, and humbly Vibrate at a frequency that’s seemly.
Plants, shrubs, and trees are no different. Have you stood by vegetation not cement? Felt the energy emanating in a vent, Reaching out to reduce anxiety onto a splint?
As my tactile senses overtake me, I feel energy all around me: People, cars, trees, parks are tame And engrossed in a game that’s not lame.
As I touch a living plant, I feel Its need to enrobe me in its touch, Its simplicity and innocence that fill My fingertips with a current that’s a badge
Of honor, as not all have the same Level of sensitivity to fall under The wonderment of nature’s thrall, and name Man as its destroyer without any rancor.
The life force, energy, magnetic field Are all one and the same, as each
Creature emanates a void that embraced Its emptiness by acknowledging its existence.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
My shadow’s always running, Flying, skipping, jumping behind My every move, trying, straining Vainly to keep up with my bustling.
Hello shadow of mine, I hope you’re not too tired From the acrobatics that are a vine Binding us together, hardened
By our will to stay together. No, no Tornado, quake, blowing wind Will ever sever our bond, forever, Stuck together in the drama of life’s wind.
Oh shadow, tell me what you see, Hear, and sense that I do not. Let your tales be my lessons to be Forgiving, understanding, compassionate.
Oh shadow, our ties are our sacred Vows of loyalty, honesty that’ll keep us On the righteous path of being honored, Understood, respected, and visible without a fuss.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Malak Kalmoni. Chehab Wow, this amazing poem is full of surprises! A sunny Sunday afternoon wedding becomes a fascinating riot of bizarre characters. Ghouls and ghosts, pirates and parrots, and Dracula intend to attack the groom, make the bride walk the plank. But here comes witchy Jane, not Tarzan, to the rescue with a cauldron full of magic. Congratulations, Malak, on such an impressive, imaginative poem! Your images, alliteration, rhymes and rhythm are so vivid and exciting! I love that you ironically set this scene in a sunny day. To me, this entrancing narrative can be understood as a potentially humorous metaphor for marriage, but that may taking my interpretation too far. Thank you for sharing this brilliant poem! By Linda Powers O’Dell
Funny Sunday
On a sunny Sunday afternoon Their wedding Masquerade in bloom, People dressed glowing like the moon, While the bride and groom
Joined them in their masked Costumes, white from head to toe, Shiny raven black, not a crow, but a bow tied To suffocate instead of decorate the flow.
As they enter, ghouls and ghosts Creep in droves, while Dracula drools Over the succulent live meals in hosts, Pros, Neffertiti, doctors, astronauts, all in pools
Surround the bride in fear as they Prey on the dark dressed groom, whose Tux became fodder for pirates, parrots play Their roles driving the bride over plank in pose
Of defeat, death, depravity has no end. But, wait! Who’s there? What’s that? The bride swings from trees, Jane, whose bend Of hand holds arms of freedom in a vat,
A cauldron where newt guts, brains Of vultures, nightshade, blood that overflows As it bublles up, swallows all it touches, cranes Its flow into corners not to miss any blows.
Watch the witchy, whaling, warbling, Black pointed hat flying into the air Sprinkling her brew that’s consuming All in a blinding jiffy like a pair in flair.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Malak Kalmoni. Chehab What’s funnier than farts? Hilarious poem, Malak! You’ve reminded me of kids rolling around on the floor out of their minds with laughter because someone has farted. There’s something very fundamental going on with this source of humor. Could it be the surprise and offensiveness of an all too human smell? Whatever, your funny descriptions and punchy rhymes are excellent, so much fun!! By Linda Powers O’Dell
Burrito Farts
Breakfast burrito? Yes, a great start for farts Farts smelling of rotten food, Food from beans and eggs, Eggs have a medium scent, Scent that permeates the air, Air needed to live, Live off oxygen that’s polluted, Polluted by beany farts, whose color, Color is a nauseous vomity green, Green that almost black, Black and filled with gas, Gas requiring a gas mask, Mask that protects from bio weapon, Weapon that if used properly, Properly can extinguish idiocy, Idiocy that promotes beany, funny, farts.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Malak Kalmoni. Chehab What a charming and profound tanka! How true it is, the laughter of children can be a balm for any broken soul. You’ve created a wonderful progression of ideas, Malak. The first line sets your theme; we are ready to feel peace. Then happiness is followed by its cause, the sparkling eyes of kids and their laughter. The feeling of brokenness is soothed by coming last. This progession is elegant and sophisticated. Wonderful poem! By Linda Powers O’Dell
Tanka
Contentment
Peace falls in your heart As you look on happiness In the eyes of kids Whose laugh is a balm on your Broken soul needing soothing.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Malak Kalmoni. Chehab A wonderfully inspiring poem, Malak, it would be a dream come true if “peace, harmony, and acceptance” were “the norm rather than fear.” Excellent use of Shakespeare’s famous life to describe our lives, “a streaming play.” Despite many people not having a say, despite the torpor of daily life, the poet wisely advises us to embrace our dreams, to hold the hands of our lovers, to make even the damnable pleasurable. Thank you for sharing this encouraging poem! By Linda Powers O’Dell
‘To Be or Not To Be’¹
To Dream or Not to Dream Is such a wonder in a light beam.
I dream of you and me, lover, As we hold hands as our hearts flutter
In a world where, none have a say In anything but a streaming play.
A drama of such magnitude and splendor That anything reality brings is but torpor.
While dreaming of things that be In, ‘To be or not to be’²,
You swerve, soar, steer, drive, or dive Into a dream as real as you contrive,
Where peace, harmony, and acceptance Are the norm rather than fear and non truce.
Elevate your dream into your life Making the damnable all but pleasurable.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Malak Kalmoni. Chehab The Cyborg have always given me a chill. I think it’s because it’s true our individuality is threatened by all the things that, as you say, bombard us daily. This is a wonderful protest poem advising us to resist. So inspiring!! By Linda Powers O’Dell
Thank you for the honor of your accolade.
‘Resitance is Futile’*1
We’re being bombarded, daily, By subliminal messages, hourly, Whispers of drugs, violence, alcoholics’ enduced hazes, minutely, Incorporated in ALL media, compulsively.
Resistance is Futile …
Words, sounds, images coalesce Into an indoctrinated presence That’s insidious in its convergence Into your mind, creating a blinding trace
For behaviors that are incongruent With ‘our’ Ideals of humanity, that are esculent By mediocrity of addiction becoming permanent, As our dependence skyrockets into exponent …
‘Resitance is Futile’ …
As our struggles persist, our Vision, imagination, purveyor Of our strength of cohesion, flutter Into a bud that flourishes in power.
As ‘Resistance is Futile’,
Our obstacles remain tangible, Yet, clearly, unattainable. The need to strive to be corrigible Is embedded in our DNA, for hope is always tenable.
Thus: ‘Resitance is (Not) Futile.’
*1. Star Treck, the Borgh, a a cyborg entity trying to Conquer worlds, says this to Captain Pickard when they wish to invade earth.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Your mother’s voice echoes In your mind, always reminding You of her love, support, never abscomding When difficulties arise but throws
Her power, a heated, weighted blanket That smothers away the pain As though it never happened, a grain Of annoyance, no more, for she’s a banquet
Of facets that thrive on discontent For she’s the glue that holds Your fractured parts within her folds Of love, bolstering your confident
Side, propelling you into decisions That keep you moving forward. Her time, efforts are, at times, unappreciated For her honesty cuts deeper than a scalpel’s precisions.
Make sure that when the time Comes, you’re by her side, supporting Her as she did you, for youth’s trembling Dissipates into old age and puts her in a frame.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Poetry for Change 