National Poetry Month Tribute

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RUN IT!!! -Luis M. Ayala Founder and Owner

Prevail N Prosper is a design collective fashioned to showcase artists of different trades and

talents. We give them a forum for their voice to be heard. In exchange, they take us on an

aesthetic journey of the world through their eyes. Inside every issue, we feature artists

specializing in tattoos, canvas, poetry, photography, design, and music. Underground art,

collaborated under one roof.

The only way to Prosper is to Prevail today.

SUBMIT WORK AT: prevailnprosper@gmail.com

April is National Poetry Month. PnP is looking for poets of every kind to submit work to be featured on our website.

Poetry can be written, spoken, video.. you name it, we take it!

History of National Poetry Month: “Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April, when

schools, publishers, libraries, booksellers, and poets throughout the United States band together to celebrate poetry

and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of organizations participate through readings, festivals, book

displays, workshops, and other events.”- Poets.org

Released May 2014

Blue

Destiny Nicole Rogers Murphy, NC

www.music4youreyes.blog.com

Denim Jeans

Against an azure sky.

Faded wooden dock, beside

Still, shining waters.

No shoes, no problems;

Only laughs and words whispered.

Promises made,

Secrets kept,

And hands that swear to never let go.

Turquoise dress.

Crystal tears run,

A waterfall sizzling onto the creaking dock.

No shoes, problems pouring forth

Like sand in an hourglass.

Worse nightmares coming true-

A lonely shadow on her knees.

Hurting, missing hands she fears

she’ll never hold again.

Sapphire ring,

He’s knelt there on one jeaned knee.

Her eyes wide, glitter with

Love filled tears.

Initials and a date etched into faded

Creaking posts. The dock stands on,

Like the promises their love will

Be built on.

Hands that only death can pull apart.

Cobalt sweater

Covers her shaking arms.

Falling on knees too weak to stand,

On the mossy bank.

Collapsed.

The sturdy dock,

And his loving heart.

80 years of everything they were,

Drift in the wind

As ashes, sprinkled

Over sun kissed water

So blue.

Here and There

by: Geanice Gee Capitol Heights, MD

Here and there

There and here

I just can't be everywhere

In the store or in Delaware

What you ask is so unfair

I just can't be everywhere

Here and there

There and here

I just can't be everywhere

At the park or down the stairs

With you my time I have to share

I just can't be everywhere

Here and there

There and here

I just can't be everywhere

When I'm on the road I'm unaware

Of the lost time spent with billionaires

I just can't be everywhere

Here and there

There and here

I just can't be everywhere

Days are short nights quite rare

Heart is torn from all the despair

I just can't be everywhere

Here and there

There and here

I just can't be everywhere

Losing sleep a few grey hairs

Going through this because I care

I just can't be everywhere

I just can't be here and there

Self Destruction

By: Geanice Gee Capitol Heights, MD

FAST MONEY

FAST CARS

LOOK AT YOURSELF

BEHIND STEEL BARS

CHEAP WOMEN

SHORT THRILLS

ALL THIS CASH

HAS U SURROUNDED AROUND TRASH

APRIL SHOWERS

BRINGS DOWN THE POWER

TURNS OLD FRIENDS SOUR

MAKES U INTO A COWARD

BANK ROB

FIGHT KILL

DOING ALL THIS

BUT STILL CAN’T PAY THE BILLS

PRETTY DUMB

LIFE GONE

PETTY CRIMES

ALL ADD UP TO HARD TIMES

RIGHT WRONG

CRIME TIME

FREEDOM GONE

CAN’T PAY THE BOND

Racks by: Daisy Baker

Wordplay By: Lyric Ishani Dallas Fort Worth, TX

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CA-JmGTQL4Q

Music Jay Sinner Greenbelt,MD

This is my declaration to her. We all know who she is,shes the one that puts a sweet smile on our fases when we want

to cry. Her voice so sweet it would make your blood sugar rises. You cant see her but you know shes there. Shes that

light at the end of the tunnel to help you find your way. Her beat makes you move in ways you would never knew you

could. Shes your salvation when you think all is losted. Shes the sweet sound blasting from you headphones at you

walk home from a long ass day. Shes the tender touch you need to feel alive, the honeysuckle you taest on a worm

summers night, the lovely medoldy you hear the old man down the street play for his wife,the view of the ocean

slamming against the sand at the beach. Shes is life,love ,laughter. Her name is Music.We all know her. We've all met

her,needed her, loved her, hated her. At one point she may have even saved our lifes. This is my declaration to her. To

music......You have always been then when I felt like the world was against me. When all hope and faith was losted.

When some one I loved passed or when some one I loved was brought into this world.You always knew just the right

words to say at just the right time. Music I thank you for always being you.

Must Be Nice by Lynn Schauer

The lunar sunset creates shadows

By: Analisa Carswell Jacksonville, AL

To dance upon your pale statue.

Statue of stone hard crevices that act like a smile.

Yet, and yet, your guilt plays upon your rock face.

So untimely.

Your face not yet recognizable through the shadows.

Yet still I can your distrust.

I wonder.

Thoughts echo through my body.

I wonder repeatedly.

Wonder why you promised the world, the placid world

To rest in my arms.

My arms are bare and dry

If you discount the tears.

why do you tell me a year too late By: Analisa Carswell

that your attraction to me is so great

in front of the world a bit too late.

I will fly with angels

By: Analisa Carswell

Laugh with demons

Cry with saints.

Rejoice with sinners.

Dine with tigers, tame a human.

Be myself at all times

Unless you are near.

By: Vanessa Bly

Am I Beautiful?

By: Dionysus DeVille Chicago, IL

Staring into the mirror I am a villain of my vision

My eyes become the image of a personal prison

Unhappy to see the man standing before me

Self-worth entrenched, drowned in an endless sea

Woke up to fifty more pounds, I let myself go

Crying, wondering how I could fall so low

The scales become shadows of the Devil’s numbers

My confidence blacked out in an eternal slumber

Haunted by the person I used to be

Skinny, happy, and carefree

Try to recapture that feeling but it fails to rise

Feeling trapped behind my own self disguise

How many likes can I get on a naked pic?

Will you call me if I show my dick?

Like my status, rate me, tag me, show some love

Will you stay with me if I refuse the glove?

Questions of a dark misconception

Hungry for a perfect perception

Trying so hard to be anybody that’s different

But then left feeling empty and insufficient

Belligerent thoughts that rot my mind

They kill my soul and blind my shine

Falling down, can’t seem to stand my ground

My insecurities blast my ears; vengeful sounds

These lies I’ve fed myself rip and tear my life into pieces

The ebb of flow of my pain banks me on its beaches

Try to save myself from self but my reflection keeps on laughing

Try to catch my happiness, but its shadow keeps on passing

Am I beautiful, I ask in an endless refrain?

Inquiries that rattle and shake the base of my brain

Where is the last stop on this motionless train?

I ask as the pain sleeps only to wake again

LADY ANNABELLE Tokoni Uti Lagos, Nigeria

She has a will, she has a choice.

Now too loud to hear the noise.

All those who never wanted to be.

And all the voices that we see.

Today she drowns in her regrets.

Tomorrow she is silent but will not forget.

There is nothing else to give.

She loses her will to live.

Victim of fear, slave to her plight.

Find your ray of light.

Sound off chanting, ring the liberty bell.

Tears will fall for lady Annabelle.

War in My Head

Tokoni Uti Lagos, Nigeria

My mind is at war with my head.

My soul is distraught wishing it were my body instead.

My mind is chasing imaginary sunset and stars.

My head wants to remain as we are.

My mind is the keeper of the things that will not be bought.

My head is the mistress of my happy thoughts.

My mind is waiting for the Holy sign.

My head believes Heaven and earth have resigned.

My mind and head are almost at war.

Agreeing to disagree at my core.

DES | DAZE | RESE

by: Big X Chicago, IL

facebook.com/bigxlives

I am the gun that is fired full of rage that rips through rib cages of children on Chicago streets

I am the cold blade that is plunged into the backs of silent lovers while waiting for their spouse to creep back in bed

smelling of another

I am the risk that keeps you cowering under a security blanket begging for the past to stay

I am the advocate of the devils plan

Hold my hand

I hope that we can play

Luis Ayala Chicago, IL

re-quest by: Rachannis Houston, TX

Unfortunate it is

as more often than none

we acquaint some others

with an expectation in sum

once we confirm they are without

a disappointment grows within

and no longer, no longer on second

do we desire to befriend

so we search and seek

for another to betray

uplifting random strangers

in passing on the way

while those same slackers

already live within our walls

with steps we built for them

having crumbled, designed null

one should never set high

what could be annihilated by greed

unless they have committed comfortable

with harboring excessive need

over time

it does

float

all things

anchored

away

desert seeds

post-u’re

Resolve

Evolve

All with direction on no end

The epitome is welcomed but never befriend-

Dead on arrival or as common can seem to stall it

A case…… even oddly enough has proved itself coming with dawn

Clavier, Salve sayer, mornings in gong

Melody minus song

Where all of this muster in decision comes from

Garner pride.

Take stance.

You really are.

Medicine By: Will Schmintz Los Angeles, CA

At this med students' party up Nuuanu

The bathroom is crammed

With a couple of boys trying out

Feminine garb, deftly assisted

By a nurse whose eyes say

She likes to see men down. Lipstick: purple.

Big-looped earrings. Now, into the skirt,

Eye makeup later. Check the mirror.

In the bedroom, a newly jilted nursie

Is taking on all comers. If you can

Stand her hate rap and her screaming obscenities,

You can have her. Listening to andro rock, Al is

Explaining the sorts of voyeur thrills he gets

Working weekends at the state mental hospital--

How easy it is to steal their thorazine,

Qualude and codeine--here, you want some?

We must keep on working, after all, for the

Greatest possible happiness

Of the highest few.

Meditating on a Broken Member By: Will Schmintz Los Angeles, CA

The phallus has been knocked off

Oscar Wilde's monument stone.

The half-Assyrian winged gypsy

Art-deco once intact assassin

Represents the kind of friends

You don't want to leave behind

To glorify the memory.

Pretty Oscar posing in the photographer's studio

amongst the pillows

Fat Oscar drunk and numbed

in the sunlight outside a provincial cafe.

You and Dowson flip a coin

To see which one has to try the local whore.

"First piece of mutton I've tasted in eighteen years,"

you remarked.

What cards.

The sycophants appear

And do a job to get the body

Into consecrated ground.

Ouch! The bores. Lasting out your life among theirs

What a trial.

By Amy Outland @amypond27 Chicago, IL

A Force of Nature

An act of God

a force of nature

a natural disaster

water rushing in on me from all sides

longing for the privacy and security that home provides

wind whips against my face

wishing for a place that’s mine

fears manifest themselves into:

an act of God

a force of nature

a natural disaster

afraid of being alone,

of never finding a home

struggling to be brave

saving the tears for half a year

waiting for the day

when

I can confront my fears

without letting anything get me down

not fear,

not an act of God

not a natural disaster

because I am a force of nature.

Dauntless By: Amy outland

Thoughts diverge,

while reading Divergent

factionless, homeless, cold, and alone,

constant tendency toward tears barely kept at bay.

Try to be…

strong, courageous, dauntless knowing

that in a dystopian world (or even this one) you could’ve been

factionless, homeless, cold and alone,

But fortunately instead there are…

pine trees, presents, food, clothes, hotel rooms,

cell phones, TV shows, iPods, Twitter feeds, and Doctor Who tees.

Turn your heart to stone,

pretend the absence of a room of one’s own doesn’t mean that you are

factionless, homeless, cold, and alone.

Four walls and a roof won’t fit under a Christmas tree,

but it might be all you need to be,

strong, courageous, dauntless

Bigger by Gabriel Garcia Fraire

The Battle of Pan by Gilbert Pangelina San Franciso,CA

In the forum he was brought, to deliver a speech, so he thought. His colleagues all around, with others who wished to

walk those grounds. Controversy he did spark. Words he had written, meant not to offend, spoken to children he

thought were men. For on his wall he did place, a plague that read,

“Poetry is an exploitation of reality.

Being both a beautiful truth and a beautiful lie”

In essence poetry has become the ultimate paradox of life”

The first verse caught Silo, his nemesis’s eye, and the last two verses’ Silo screamed, “Lie.” When Pan walked out on

the forum floor, not one but two podiums stood unadorned. On stage first alone, then walked he, to challenge the

throne. Pan being wiser inclined, “I know now what is to be expected. But to this I do, totally reject it. What I have

claimed is both simple and truth. This old argument I do not wish to renew.” Silo then addressed the crowd, “He

speaks quietly yet writes loud!!! I ask all of you to give him a hand and bring hither what we demand.” The crowd

silent, that the pin could be heard. Not a single man with a single word. Then one, his hands did meet and the crowd

did follow indiscreet. Pan’s nemesis Silo smiled and spoke, “ Pan we poets do not exploit, we speak of beauty and we

speak of pain, but it is not for wealth but soulful gain. Debate with me and show our friends why, your beautiful truth,

is not a beautiful lie.”

The crowd now grew silent until one shouted out, “We are gathered here now, so to let it come out. Explain once on

behalf of your fancy and fame, why what is said, is so rightly claimed.” Pan looked at the crowd stifled, “Very well,

but you must now listen closely to what I must tell.” Pan explained, “How could one argue that the poet does not

writes what he sees, the bushes the flower, plants and trees, the young lovers, beauty, greatness hard bought. We write

what we read, or what we see or hear, but it all starts from life, and not the heart that is clear.” Silo looking at Pan

began to laugh and then spat. “Poetry not from the heart, that’s fiction not fact. You mock poetry.” Pan interjected, “I

did not say that poetry does not come from the heart, I said it starts with life and is then taken apart. The heart returns

these moments with splendor and love, with laughter and merriment or the coo of a dove. The anger in life is visibly

seen, through poets and their poetry, and all of their schemes. Petty the grievances, petty the mistrust, I say the poetry

in life, is precious to us. But it is life that we take it from, exploitation perhaps to harsh as the sword, but the actions

fit the description, I did not make up the word.”

Silo only looked at Pan, with disdain and disgust, the lights in the room dimmed by I thin misty must. “Pan” Silo said

in a now dimly lit room, “You and I are both poets, lets settle this score. With a battle of poetry, a battle of words. The

winner can make his demand. For I, you must stop with this ridiculous saying “Poetry the paradox to life”, good poets

really do not believe what your saying.” Pan feeling this had already gone too far, wondered if he stopped, would it be

like stepping in front of a car. Men shouted out from the crowd, “Pan do oblige, let’s find the truth, or reveal the lie.”

Pan lowered his head and replied, “I accept, but this minuscule moment, will prove nothing at all, but to appease my

comrades I will lower the bar.” Then Silo took to verse, cursing the fame that Pan had received. But Pan spoke clearer

words, and his honor perceived. They fought back and forth, with verses such with force. Who had the mastery, it

seemed to go back and forth. Pan finished a verse that angered Silo past sane, and blood vessels soon popped in and

out of his brain. The light on the stage fell and broke, while the lights above, seemed filtered and choked. The eyes of

Silo seemed coated with a thin layer of green. He walked about on the dim lit scene, bitter and troubled revealing his

rage. His voice began with a hiss, and then it doubled. Silo scoffed;

“Oh, you’re such a big man in your little world

But you throw tantrums like a little girl

You’re a thin skin snake

Your talent and wisdom are fake

You’re so reptilous on ice

You wouldn’t know wrong from nice

Vermin in the sty

The pearl from a dead dogs eye

A broken rubber band

You loose your venom

On things you don’t understand.

Believing that you can fly

On such a despicable lie

Oh, You’re such a big man in your little world

And you throw tantrums like a little girl”

Feeling pleased with this simple verse, Pan left standing, had felt the worst. With clarity Pan now fully understood.

Silo had planned for some time, that he must pay the price for daring to state, “Poetry is the Paradox of Life.” A

sudden laughter Pan did make, for the childish nature of this debate. Pan the earthen tower could not be shaken, by

this simple debate he had taken. Pan re-addressed the crowd. “My thoughts, my dear colleagues, have not been not

shaken, but this debate I deem, should have been forsaken.” Pan then chanted in twilit verse;

“Twiddle dee deed twiddled dee dum

So simple we have become

in the dark it has waited

From underground I was baited

The Master of Meddlesome

By another name

He is the robber of dignity

The bearer of blame

He is Mediocrity by no other name.”

The room is darkened for a moment or two, then the lights come back, setting renewed. The crowd could see Silo’s

angered face, they now saw their act in disgrace. Silo raced over to Pan, “See now I have won, I am the better man,

and now you must do, what needs to be done.” Pan smiled and replied, “Nothing did we achieved, but to bring

dishonor, where was chivalry?” Silo so angered, a fist and a nose, a second of silence, a trickle of flow. Pan fallen

regains his feet, and walks away from the crowd. When from the audience, he hears the last bit of foolishness, spoken

out loud. “Pan was that poetry or life, please give it a shout”, Pan smiled and said, “It is poetry, if you passionately

write it out. Or, it is just life without the mighty pen, poetry lets it out, and life brings it in.” “What does that mean the

crowd began to say”, and Pan with his thought just walked away?

:: Oda Uva :: By: Julianne Henderson SF, CA

Consider for one moment

the grape:

its blood red color--

its tough skin--

its sinful contents.

In love acts between nurture and nature

it is conceived like us all

and like love,

with time

and steady consumption,

it drowns us in lunacy and ecstasy

and stains our lips.

:: Starspeak :: By: Julianne Henderson SF, CA

breathe deep and then exhale

stir up my dust and make it spin

when it aligns it forms a gale

to warn all fools who enter in

separate ring from inner core

since it’s there you’ll find the truth

that speaks a language learned before

innocence eloped with youth

when it feels compelled to sing

its song disarms bodies at war

who surrender will to gravity

and find only Love worth fighting for

you be the Sun and signal yes

while I circle energy counter to the clock

and all the beauty this can manifest

makes us forget stars were ever rocks

Madurantakam, here I come Ravi Yellayi Perth, Australia

oh boy!! was this week dainty hard

barraged all, heaved-ho like a mallard

no gripe gainsay naught, for me a first

concord past stood of taking all athirst

while work chimes toll bells of double off

this holiday marks a comeuppance doff

of a birdie, a day made for a no putt sike

me roadie, gonna burn rubber off my bike

dips and craters, ruts they were upbraid

gone december, govt gets them roads laid

gawk at them, orgasmic they are, what patina

with a sight of natal august, a de facto czarina

my two-wheel rig, me few z's come the morrow

with rafi, and pancham da into gales of windrow

105 km south west, her name is jankavalli thayar

my shepherd, be in evidence oh aeri katha ramar

oh girl! You got me there Ravi Yellayi Perth, Australia

it all started when she parts her lips, slowly

below that blush in her cheeks, she is lovely

read it takes only 14 muscles than frown, 43

it comes like a shade not possible to any tree

a smile that took away many a man's heart

belongs to a girl who knows that its her art

god only can guess what runs in her mind

and it reaches her eyes, i'm outta my mind

more so when she bowed her head slightly

take the hair behind her ear, tuck in lightly

looking at me, showing her platinum ear rings

'm sure knowing the effect that gesture brings

i compliment her on this, and her smile broadens

calls me liar, flatterer, all i do is melt smithereens

i promise to do this more often, no fear or waiver

pat comes another smile, oh girl you got me there

By -Cerebral Being

We see ourselves as righteous, outgoing, glowing individuals. We feel our significance bound to our feet as the

weight is expected to keep us down to earth. As we grow from youth we grow from our innocence and our

immaculate power to view. But I am not afraid to fly. I will remove these weights and float away from the surface of

this shadowy rock out into the cosmos where I will find eternal peace.

We exist in this life as conduits. We are mere cadavers in use by the force that was and always is. Body, mind, and

soul we're on borrowed time; as it is an ancient entity that lives in all of us as individuals and all of us as a whole.

Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. You're no more than a blatant charade. Unveil thy wretched face

and show me what is truth and what is fake.

We exist as oddities. We exist as enigmas and anomalies.

Under the Sun we are all one

Fear not the view, my friend, for I am just like you.

RESE

THE LIGHT

TREZAHN GRACE HOUSTON,TX

The darkness

Engulfs you like dinner

As if swallowed by a giant

your pupils become defiant

They try to adjust

But it as if you were luggage on a bus

Blind folded by your lover

burried in a hole forced to suffer Your breathing is calm

Your ears tingle

The sound of a pen hitting the floor

hits your ears like a napalm

You close your eyes

To think of a jingle

To distract the mind

But that makes it darker

The darkness

Makes you weary

wipe the eyes as if they were teary

the darkness

Is feared

It is what one does not Come near The darkness

Put those to rest

It taketh tho that let

But the darkness

Is afraid of what shines

What takes the night

As the night does to you

by: Victoria Da Cruz

Summer is when I miss you the most;

our hearts burned heat like flames six feet tall.

We were wild and young.

We were insane and dumb.

I miss the way we danced in the moonlight,

your warmth caressed all around me.

Your eyes glistened like the sun,

and I followed you around because I couldn’t get enough.

Our summer secrete.

The late night swims,

you’d always catch me when I thought I’d drown.

The late night drives,

when the need for speed thrilled our minds.

I miss the way you would look at me,

all those moments I swear this universe paused.

Even in silence, your presence filled me.

When our eyes met, there was a spark in the ignition.

That something between you and me,

was more than simple chemistry.

Our hearts stayed guarded against the fire we started,

but our skin easily melted.

When our minds were gone,

the heat from your palms reassured me.

As the time flew by, that smile I can’t resist,

took away all worries.

I miss the way you stayed so strong.

You never changed even when your guard was flaking.

You made me tough and wise;

you changed my whole mind set.

But now that summer is over,

your buried six feet under,

and that strength you once gave me,

is slowly breaking.

Without your heat, my soul is freezing.

Without you here, I’m self-destructing.

Without our flame, my whole is turning into nothing.

Brian Zerbel #beatscostmoney Photo by Jam1

www.soundcloud.com/beatscostmoney

"When we finally arise awake" By: Source White Plains, NY

Musical Accompaniment: http://youtu.be/P9TveAvLqQE

Man is born told to listen, from the first day of his existence.

Oppressors pressin' the resistance tryna pack us in prisons.

Paper makes the world burn slow like incense. Chemicals in the oxygen

got my lungs feelin' intense, ways of love found up in my writ-tens.

Mind rippin' through thought patterns gave up things that I thought mattered.

Opened my eye realized better off tattered, society slaves tryna climb ladders.

My reality consists of living with much laughter cause when I leave this body,

who gives a fuck after? Life's a bitch? Well I bust that bitch open like a dutch master.

War for profit greed stricken smiles as blood splatters, die young live faster?

Small faction in power causing big disasters but we don't see it cuz corporations plaster

the truth with lies. It's clear as day through my human eyes that scrutinize those that bring crude demise.

Contemplating with my soul, body, mind, asking who is I? Someone who remains true as sky. Let out a revolution cry

& shout "It's time to rise!" When we finally arise awake,

maybe then we'll see the world is at stake. Maybe then we'll hear the Earth's heartache, before it disappears just

remember it's our fate..just remember it's our fate.

By shashi Bronx, NY

I've covered my face with covers of Egyptian cotton so sweet and slick I lick on your lips adopting, your taste

replacing your waste with naked shadows just watching ,while in the dark our body parts just rotten captivating agony

I've ask to be forgotten and then you asked for me to become immune to something I'm not use to so I've made my

muse "you"I've collide pride with being alive and still inside apart of me died waiting for two drives to speed through

the distance is like trying to hear silence but don't really listen pay attention,to the quiet when your alone to the eyes

that slowly roam to adapt what you call home in your skin into your bones there dictating what we've become ,self

consciously its haunting me until I get numb I've allowed you to be something that can't be named I'm estranged to the

way we can't be tamed I had left stains, when I covered my face with covers of Egyptian cotton and there I lay while

your fragrance play and ask to be forgotten

Lady Baby Girl. By Jason king

Before she goes to bed she’s far from rank n’ file

But when she wakes up she the Queen of the Nile

she’s my lady

First time I met her, I was angry she was high

same results, different method, hardly a line of jive

she’s my girl

I texted her weak from sadness, weeks too late

she hit me back at exact same cot-dayum rate

she’s my baby

1st date she felt me out, i replied in kind

my presentation was so nervous, but she dug the overall design

She’s my lady

Happy with a kiss and simply not being an ass

She’s takes it up a notch, says this feels like falling too fast

she’ my baby

The week goes by and half the days she’s in it

Don’t know if this is love, but feels like the beginning

she’s mah girl

She comes to see me sing and everyone is shocked

He didn’t have much sense, now look at what he’s got

She’s mah lady

The performance is over, but the show is just beginning

She wants to go back to the crib, for a few extra innings

She’s my girl

The cabman wants to hack off all our arms and legs

She proposes the thought, we should catch the metered cab instead

she’s my lady

We make the house a home before we sleep, and one time after

She snores loudly in my arms, we’ll have to replace the rafters

She’s my baby

Momma’s not keen on me bringing home guests

But I introduce the woman to where my heart invests

She’s my Lady.

Time for goodbyes, see ya laters, embraces and hugs

My lips don’t say much, but my eyes bleed love

She’s my lady baby girl.

Train’s pulling off and I hope for a glimpse.

For the beautiful lady who sees the prince in this chimp.

ahh yess.There goes my lady, my baby, my girl.

Enchanted Dan Fenton Atlanta GA

The moon peaked over the mountain ridge and scattered the stars from the night, and swallowed the ones that didn't

give way to its imminent path of flight.

A velvet blanket enveloped the skies adorned with millions of stars, like diamonds that twinkled a loving hello and

then a loving goodnight.

They seemed to assure me that as I did sleep, throughout this enchanted night; that they would be standing to guard

over me, so "sleep easily, sleep deeply, sleep tight.

The song of a cricket was cast to the wind and carried away by a breeze. The cottonwood leaves danced in the trees

and they shimmered reflecting the light.

The light of the moon and the stars from on high shown down on the face of the earth and then I felt blessed to see

such a thing, when the moon made love to the earth.

“BBoy Moks” Vanessa Bly Photography

National Poetry Month Tribute

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