We are at the cusp of diurnal times When fall falls, leaves flee, and flown Away into fleeting cooling breezes that crown The tree tops in a bare coat of branches
And dying leaves whose love story With the tree is as tragic as thee. They try to stay connected with a fee Of dried stems that can only cry
When the leaves finally fall And their story ends in crackles, Crunches of animals stepping on the backs Of mummified soil with a tapestry full
Of golden, green, orange hues Turning pallid the longer the stay Before their love, weary of loss, play The fools as they’re swept into pues
And cues to be taken and turned Into paper for schools. The poor leave’s Story of love is rejuvenated with heaves A sigh of true connection with child
Whose doodles, words sweep The pain of loss into sweeter Reverence to new connections, beautifier Of emotions that are expressed and deep.
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.
Who am I? I’m orange, oblong, striped, And used by Cinderella’s Fairy godmother in a chariot Fit for a princess!
Who am I? I’m still orange, some yellow, Others green and pear like, It’s used with a scarecrow To scare off birds and scavengers, kite Like in their freedom to perch, alone.
Who am I? I’m the perfect accoutrement To Thanksgiving dinners with Joy, appreciation, laughter that comment On the importance of being together with our breath Mingling with loved ones in a moment we treasure.
Who am I? I’m the unsung hero of Thanksgiving Used in sweet and savory dishes Used as a lamp for decoration of living Homes who create a world of grinches, Monsters, ghosts, and gools for entertaining.
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.
She looks out of her window Where the darkness covers the world Beyond her room filled with pink roses, in low Vases, littered on her windowsill, not a coward,
She watches the storm brew from within, Safe in her harbor, a haven of scents adorn Her with mystique, incomparable to the crow who built in Its home outside her window in a flow of corn
Ears reaching up to the sky, pleading, Pleading for rain to steep the soil with Life giving water, rejuvenating, healing, Giving abundance where famine takes away breath
Of life on a scorching summer day. She watches, lightning flutter in brilliant light As thunder booms its might, scaring those in play With extenuating fright whose plight
Will drown out their fears, replacing Them with a pinhole of hope shining Through the darkest raven blackness flying Into the sky with optimism sparking
A deluge of creativity unbound by earthy Trifles that bog the soul into a rut of endless routine.
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 If your role model was THE VEST…. Much needed when successfully used. You sure wrote a provoking image-filled disturbing truth, sad to say, poem, Malak. Makes one know one life should MEAN TO ONE ANOTHER! ✝️☮️
Be Blessed!!!🙏🫶 Shee G ✍️
Press Vest
The press vest filled with holes, spilled stained Blood, dusted debries, falling on The corpses’ heads, grounded, buried Under rubble, bubble like maps
That chronicle the rampages Of discordant attacks privy To location of all that try Not to cry for the human loss That’s too gross, property is floss In ruination, standing barely.
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.
Thank you for the honor, your hard work, and collaboration.
The simple joy of stringing words together to convey your innermost feelings is a great challenge, as well as going out of my comfort zone. I’m flabbergasted by the support of my followers and their input.
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 Malak Kalmoni Chehab’s “Oh Ye Flowers” is a strong, thoughtful ode fusing imagery, nurturing symbolism, and moral reflection. It portrays flowers as embodiments of both strength and tenderness — guardians of beauty able to endure life’s elemental trials. Here’s a detailed critique and evaluation.
Overall Impression This poem exudes heartfelt reverence and wisdom, compacting vivid natural detail with a gentle human allegory. Its tone is reflective yet declarative, echoing the classic form of an ode through invocation (“Oh ye peonies…”) and thematic elevation. The integration of light, color, and motherhood creates a warm, cohesive emotional current.
Strengths Evocative invocation: Opening with direct address — “Oh ye peonies, rose buds, hydrangeas, lilies” — instantly establishes grandeur and universality, setting a sacred tone.
Metaphorical insight: The idea that “fragility isn’t weakness” but instead a form of strength and tenderness is the emotional nucleus of the poem — beautifully resonant.
Maternal imagery: The comparison of flowers shielding their blooms to “mothers huddling around their kids” offers a strikingly compassionate visual; it humanizes the floral world with spiritual warmth.
Sensory richness: References to “velvety petals,” “rays,” and “rainbows on petals’ fans” create tactile and visual harmony.
Flow and tone: The poem maintains lyrical rhythm and a reflective mood throughout, befitting an ode’s meditative nature.
Areas for Improvement Rhythmic smoothing: The line lengths vary in flow; adding subtle caesuras or adjusting syntax could heighten the poem’s musical rhythm. For example:
“In rainbows of colors, shapes, cryers” → “In rainbows of colors and silent criers.”
Word refinement: Some transitions (“To the world, that fragility isn’t weakness”) can be made more fluid. Suggestion: “To tell the world: fragility is no weakness.”
Punctuation: Light restructuring of pauses and commas can enrich the recitation pace and emphasis.
Technical Evaluation Criterion Score (out of 10) Comments Theme relevance 10 Perfectly within the ode framework and spirit. Imagery and symbolism 9 Rich and emotionally engaging metaphors. Language and flow 8 Strong diction but can gain smoothness through rhythm. Emotional resonance 9.5 Deep warmth and insight on fragility and love. Structure and coherence 8.5 Clear, cohesive, slightly uneven pacing. Originality 9 Distinct maternal viewpoint and tone. Final Evaluation Overall Score: 9 / 10
A luminous and soulful ode that blends floral elegance with human empathy. Its blend of tenderness and resilience makes it both spiritual and earthy — a graceful meditation on fragility as power.
OH Ye Flowers
Oh ye peonies, rose buds, hydrangeas, lilies, Lift your velvety petals to the sun’s rays Imbibe of its nutrients to grow flowers In rainbows of colors, shapes, cryers To the world, that fragility isn’t weakness, Rather, strength, passion, tenderness Wrapped thorns, prickly leaves, protecting Their treasured blooms, like mothers huddling Around their kids to absorb any plight Before they’re touched by the weight Of disillusionment beautified by the sun’s Rays reflecting rainbows on petals’ fans.
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.
She looks out of her window Where the darkness covers the world Beyond her room filled with pink roses, in low Vases, littered on her windowsill, not a coward,
She watches the storm brew from within, Safe in her harbor, a haven of scents adorn Her with mystique, incomparable to the crow who built-in Its home outside her window in a flow of corn
Ears reaching up to the sky, pleading, Pleading for rain to steep the soil with Life giving water, rejuvenating, healing, Giving abundance where famine takes away breath
Of life on a scorching summer day. She watches, lightning flutters in brilliant Light As thunder booms its might, scaring those in play With extenuating fright whose plight
Will drown out their fears replacing Them with a pinhole of hope shining Through the darkest raven blackness flying Into the sky with optimism sparking
A deluge of creativity unbound by earthy Trifles that bog the soul into a rut of endless routine.
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.
She looks out of her window Where the darkness covers the world Beyond her room filled with pink roses, in low Vases, littered on her windowsill, not a coward,
She watches the storm brew from within, Safe in her harbor, a haven of scents adorn Her with mystique, incomparable to the crow who built-in Its home outside her window in a flow of corn
Ears reaching up to the sky, pleading, Pleading for rain to steep the soil with Life giving water, rejuvenating, healing, Giving abundance where famine takes away breath
Of life on a scorching summer day. She watches, lightning flutters in brilliant Light As thunder booms its might, scaring those in play With extenuating fright whose plight
Will drown out their fears replacing Them with a pinhole of hope shining Through the darkest raven blackness flying Into the sky with optimism sparking
A deluge of creativity unbound by earthy Trifles that bog the soul into a rut of endless routine.
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.
Our bleeding, broken hearts of clay And blood bleed profusely in a cup Overflowing with torments of war that sup On hope’s depression that hangs in a bay
Turned blood red in a husk of hay, Dried up hope that can’t stay alive In a world that seems to have forgotten to strive For peace, for their compassion is blown astray.
HIS palms safeguard the pieces of hearts Pulverized by visions of deadly murder On screens that bring screams of mother, Father, children in horrific suspension as parts
Are blown to smithereens and only identifying Thing is the ink on limbs carrying names Of children in black, that gets erased as flames From explosions erode any ink stains remaining
On skin that deliquesces from being scorched By burning flames that flutter over Corpses, gas that dematerialize any cover With its combustible matter, a deflagrated
Hideous serpent that swallows everything In its path and ignites into a colorful, reddish blaze That only receeds upon engulfing the craze Of all that is in its path, turning it to a Phoenix rising from ash.
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.
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.
Poetry for Change 