Thursday, October 20, 2016

The Pen

I am priviliged to have a contribution from a poet new to me called Cathy Miller- I hope you enjoy her poem.

The Pen
She has thoughts and feelings
that flow from the tip of her pen
to the core of our soul.
Awaking thoughts
we wish to

She cries out
feelings of
onto the
of her page.

The strength she shows by expression
will forever course through the beat of our hearts.
To ignore would
throw our world deeper apart.

Her knuckles white.
Tears of red
Her truth will be said.
Words that inspire the masses.

When everything fades,
words remain.
flowing into
the sea of humanity.

(Cathy Miller 10/10/2016)
Cathy J Miller (CJM) is a lover of words and a writer of prose. She spent many years teaching kids with learning disabilities how to read before shifting her focus on using her words to inspire adults to feel. She hails from Dallas, Texas where she makes words not only her full time work, but also her lifelong passion.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Pain Worth Bearing

'E a minha alma alegra-se com seu sorriso which is the earth upon which every rock falls, batters, and coincides- it hurts, but it is the kind of pain worth bearing- the one I was born to bear.' - (Gerry Aldridge and Fernando Pessoa)

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

The Sleeper

The Sleeper

Related Poem Content Details

At midnight, in the month of June, 
I stand beneath the mystic moon. 
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, 
Exhales from out her golden rim, 
And softly dripping, drop by drop, 
Upon the quiet mountain top, 
Steals drowsily and musically 
Into the universal valley. 
The rosemary nods upon the grave; 
The lily lolls upon the wave; 
Wrapping the fog about its breast, 
The ruin moulders into rest; 
Looking like Lethe, see! the lake 
A conscious slumber seems to take, 
And would not, for the world, awake. 
All Beauty sleeps!—and lo! where lies 
Irene, with her Destinies! 

Oh, lady bright! can it be right— 
This window open to the night? 
The wanton airs, from the tree-top, 
Laughingly through the lattice drop— 
The bodiless airs, a wizard rout, 
Flit through thy chamber in and out, 
And wave the curtain canopy 
So fitfully—so fearfully— 
Above the closed and fringéd lid 
’Neath which thy slumb’ring soul lies hid, 
That, o’er the floor and down the wall, 
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall! 
Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? 
Why and what art thou dreaming here? 
Sure thou art come o’er far-off seas, 
A wonder to these garden trees! 
Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress! 
Strange, above all, thy length of tress, 
And this all solemn silentness! 

The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, 
Which is enduring, so be deep! 
Heaven have her in its sacred keep! 
This chamber changed for one more holy, 
This bed for one more melancholy, 
I pray to God that she may lie 
Forever with unopened eye, 
While the pale sheeted ghosts go by! 

My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, 
As it is lasting, so be deep! 
Soft may the worms about her creep! 
Far in the forest, dim and old, 
For her may some tall vault unfold— 
Some vault that oft hath flung its black 
And wingéd pannels fluttering back, 
Triumphant, o’er the crested palls 
Of her grand family funerals— 

Some sepulchre, remote, alone, 
Against whose portals she hath thrown, 
In childhood, many an idle stone— 
Some tomb from out whose sounding door 
She ne’er shall force an echo more, 
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin! 
It was the dead who groaned within.

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Four-Leaf Clover

Four-Leaf Clover
I know a place where the sun is like gold,
And the cherry blooms burst with snow,
And down underneath is the loveliest nook, 
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,
And one is for love, you know,
And God put another in for luck—
If you search, you will find where they grow.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith,
You must love and be strong – and so—
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

Sunday, September 25, 2016


Sun rained down this autumn noon,
Splattered the earth with reds and golds.
Shards of the universe splintered
Through the branches
Of stained glass windows built in paradise,
Showcasing churches made in heaven.
And the trees.....
Dripped silently.
Laid me down gently,
Caressed me.
Annointed me in the serenity
Of the consistency of time.
Nothing more fragile,
Than the dissipated frocks
Of fragmenting fairies
As they dance so fast
They turn to dust.
And the breeze....
(Gerry Aldridge © 2016)

Saturday, September 17, 2016

My Tormentor, Or My Friend?

My Tormentor, Or My Friend?
Does the sun rise and scorn
All the dreams I think I saw?
Or does it care?

Does it want to help me bear
The loss of something I never had,
But through rose-coloured spectacles
I clearly saw?

Does it shine, or smirk
When it sees me pleading with the night
Not to go away, and begging all my dreams
To come with me into the day?

Are you light, or dark Sun?
Are you my tormentor,
Or my friend?
(Gerry Aldridge 2016)

Welcome KOG to my blog- there is a poem in itself!

Welcome KOG to my blog- there is a poem in itself! I am fortunate to be able to share a poem by this Italian based poet, who in my opinion portrays an honesty we fear and yet adore.
O que dizer sobre mim?!
Poucas coisas,mas o suficinte para apreciar o meu eu.
Sonhadora,simpatica,com bom gosto para viagens,arte .filosofia e musica.
Com uma grande bagagem de viagens que permitiram-me de ampliar o meu modo de pensar e de ver a vida com outros olhos.
Mae e esposa , dois filhos lindos que iniciam a ter um pouco mais de autonomia ,dando-me o meu justo tempo para ler, escrever e pintar. Hobbies preferidos que cultivo desde miuda.
Nos meus poemas transmito as minhas sensaçoes ,reflexoes,experiencias vividas ,é o espelho da minha alma e de um mundo invisivel dentro de mim que o unico a ter as chaves sou eu.

Senti a tua falta
'Senti a tua falta ,sim. Sentia todos os dias . Dias intermináveis,dias frios,dias de tédio e caos completo. Senti a tua falta sim. Sentia todos os dias . A janela era sempre aberta , olhava-a com uma certa inquietude. Ela inocente olhava-me sem perceber o quanto fazia me sentir cada instante passado li, a espreitar o teu regresso. Sentia a tua falta,sim. Sentia todos os dias Dias chuvosos que iam inundando a minha mente das lembranças e do tempo que eu achava eterno. Bom era o tempo que passávamos a conversar, bom eram os teus risos espontâneas, os teus olhos que irradiava uma luz celestial cada vez que encontrava-se com os meus. Senti a tua falta,sim. Sentia todos os dias.' Kog