Debonaire & The Logarithmic Lunatic

Logarithmic lubricoid

Sleeping behind eyelids

Nodding off

Behind the theatre curtains

To multiply is to add

To shout is to whisper

To divide is to subtract

To peel off fingernails

Two by two

In lunitidal interval

In abbreviating longitude

View merkaba11's Full Portfolio

Cholera Cholesterol

And in excess

Does the faucet drip

And in excess

Do magnets kiss

Two stones inseperable

Cholesterol but evenly despersed

Sitting comfortably


Author's Notes/Comments: 

im not crazy about this poem, i do like the title tho

View merkaba11's Full Portfolio

Wonders of Life

**-Jerraleen J. Balais-**


Always as it is, life is wonderful

For everything is unique, alive and beautiful.

Life is complete, it is done…

A wonderful idea of light, maketh the sun

But why does it seem – Life is a lack?

Everything is imperfect and the world is all-black???

It’s because we look on the other side with our naked eyes,

We feel of what we think- denials and lies.

So my friend, be happy and be aware…

So what if life seems unfair?

Always smile and strive for the best,

Reach for the highest star and shine above the rest!!!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

One of my first poems...I wrote this during my junior years in high school...after I have attended a seminar called "The Science of Mind and Man".

View angeljerlin's Full Portfolio



remnants of a moment

cloaked in wonder

spread gossamer lights

across the sky

of a sorely surrendered moon

Galileo would be proud

were it not for the Shakespearian sonnets

whispered in the Sunday parks

on the sunniest of all afternoons

for the night grows jealous of

conjured misdeeds

stolen from the squandered darkness

making the stars cry their unenviable tears

of early morning dew

a short hopeful shiny prose

just for you.........

(Jan 30.2004 240 am)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this encompasses the feeling of how an affection so small can evolve into something that feels bigger than the very universe it was created in.

View palewingedpoetess's Full Portfolio

PEACE - Double Nonet


Is work;

That needs grit!

Is patient toil

Peace must be fought for,

Acquired through battle

And heroic bravery,

It is the fruit of sacrifice,

It does not make friends with injustice,

See the valiant Maid of Orleans,

And heroes of the present day,

Engaged in deadly battle,

Knowing what is at stake,

Self effacingy

They battle on

So that we

May have


View blumentopf's Full Portfolio


I am the painter

Who reaches for his camel hair brush

To again attempt to recreate

Onto a reincarnated tree

An unbelievable sunset,

I am the dancer

Who through graceful movements

And passionate music

Communicates deep emotions.

I am the carver

Who strips away

At a rough and ugly block of wood

To reveal the exquisite creature

he sees hidden inside,

I am the writer

Who resists sleep to record

The flash of inspiration

Some ordinary daily routine has given him,

I am the potter

Who takes a simple lump of clay

And punishes it, molds it, and forms it

Into the sculpture he sees in his minds eye,

For all the artists I have been

Never ask the well-meant, but

Painful question

“Why? Why not create something reliable?”

Hesitantly, I offer an explanation,

A reason for my madness:

I do not create because I can,

I create because I must!!!

Author's Notes/Comments: 


View anupamnanda's Full Portfolio


Oh, to be


Feefalling deep space

In limbo lucid

To make distinct form

Slowly fade

And become air

Simply gone

And to land


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written at Hartford Art School

View merkaba11's Full Portfolio

Education on being a Sam-a

Firstly, a sam-a is depressed,

but never so that she's repressed.

In high spirits most of the time,

she never really knows how to rhyme.

(except for the rare)

with her there is nothing to bare.

A sam-a will never let down,

even if it means going into town.

A sam-a is a misfit, a loser, a weird one,

she never fits in, yet gets all her stuff done.

she never cries in front of her friends

yet only hopes it will all end.

for you see, A sam-a could never be

everything that you want to see

for a sam-a is not perfect

and for that she is sorry

she wishes that you would never worry.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

hmmm. i guess it's good to be a Sam-a. for i am unique, the one and only SAM-A.

View anthamarie's Full Portfolio

Mercy Me

Short Stories

I’ve always admired political satire, for its strange bends and its enigmatic depths. I remember, throughout my days, reading such books as The Giver, 1984, and Brave New World, and absolutely idolizing the piece. I remember hoping, someday, to write my own satire, to create a twist upon a flaw of humanity, or a political indent in the seamless hierarchy of the government. In this story, I bring up the question, “what is reality?” I answer it, too, with, “Reality is within the mind. It’s a perpetual change, constantly in complete metamorphosis.”

I created Gertrude from myself, taking my own polygon of a personality and warping it, into this ladies’ man, this school rebel, this intense philosopher. I must admit, too, these factors do reside in myself, in a milder sense. On the other hand, I do, tend to be a real philosopher. The other characters were all people from my own life, warped into a mere few. Becca represents, not one particular person, but all girls in general, who I’ve had a sort of connection to, on many levels, though remain as a superficial figure. Clark represents a merge of two of my friends from school. No, Ms. Mudd is not a representation of Mr. Mudd, the English teacher at SHS. “Mudd” was just a name taken from him, and has no real meaning beyond the story. She, as a character, represents an abstract companion, a personal answer to the questions of my life, a positive ion to even out my negativity…

But, enough from me…

View merkaba11's Full Portfolio