Poetry Contributions
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Send your poetry to poetry@artispassion.com.
- Art Is Passion Gallery - by Suzette Franck
 - Brand New Day - by Suzette Franck
 - Never Beaten - by Sissy G
 - Words Escape Me - by Gabe Criado
 - The Ideal - by Pauline Jane Castillo
 - The Meadow - by Lindsey Ramos
 - Ode to Daughter - by Alan Charles Bennett
 - O Weep Not for Me - by Alan Charles Bennett
 - I Am Called Aged - by Alan Charles Bennett
 - Sophia - by Brenda Hall
 - Weighted - by Nicole Woodson
 - Train 266 Limited - by Nicole Woodson
 - Trust - by Brittany Garity
 - Gonna Be His Moon - by JR Hammond
 - Love - by Jonathan Siegel
 - Attic Rats - by Rozene Logue
 - Love Hurts - by Nathan
 - So Called - by Judy Liza Velasco
 - Truth - by Catrina Rose Molina
 - Feelings - by Aimee Michael
 
Art Is Passion Gallery
by Suzette Franck
Written in the style of Chicago by Carl Sandburg
Rider of the Waves,
   Artist, Painter of Canvases,
   Player with Yarn at the Art is Passion Gallery;
   Creativity, Good Vibes, Oasis
They tell me you are peaceful and I believe them, for I have seen the sun dripping down below the plaza with silhouetted boats resting in the harbor.
And they tell me you are vital and I answer: Yes, it is true, I have heard the seals barking out as we eavesdrop on their musical chit-chats.
And they tell me you are healing and my reply is yes, through the moist sunny air I have felt the bad energy leave,
And having answered so, I turn once more to those who may not visit the gallery, and I give them back a wink and say to them:
Come and show me another gallery with such optimism and beauty so situated along the waters that run up to kiss the edge of the sand,
With so many familiar as well as new faces, all looking for a diversion to the harsh reality of today's chaotic world amongst the inspirational walls
Constant as the sun shining down and casting its light on everything it touches, Awe inspiring  as the colorful shapes held silent and still within each frame.
   Gluing,
   Painting,
   Glittering,
   Sharing,
   Building, Crafting, Perfecting,
Drinking wine and White Claw, glitter and glue on their hands, laughing with a sparkle in their eye,
Under the cheers and whoots from excited humans having a good time and encouraging each other
Sharing the companionship of lovely gentle souls gathered together to explore their creativity
Getting out about Ventura and enjoying fellow humans and learning new techniques and self-expressions....
               Beaming!
Beaming with pride over the crafts they've made, poetry they've heard, and prizes they've won at Bingo,
Creative, good vibes, oasis. Rider of Waves, Crafter, Painter of Canvases, Player with Yarn at the Art is Passion Gallery!
Brand New Day
by Suzette Franck
I wanted to be cool,
Cooler then I was in school
But I could not find my own inspiration
Instead I had night sweats and perspiration.
I'm stuck in my head,
Will I soon be dead?
I have all of these aches and pains,
I can’t remember where I left my brains.
My thumb is stiff when I crochet.
My hair is thinning and flyaway.
My skin is old and wrinkled...
But a spark in my eye still twinkled!
I’m getting tired, is it that time of day?
Focus now, and don't you dare stray.
The days seems shorter as time goes by
yarn, bongos, poetry, hula are things to try
There is so much I want to do
Painting rocks with colors of every hue
But I lived in the time before the Internet
Days at the library I will never forget
When old phones had cords and dials
I walked and rode bikes over miles and miles
I was the TV remote for my Dad
There was no YouTube, it was pretty bad;
With only four lousy channels.
Our living room had ugly wood panels.
There was one TV, not two or three.
It was a simpler time, can’t you see?
Video games hadn’t been invented.
Cartoons were racist and demented.
We played outside but stayed away from the street.
Slip n slide and water weenies were always a treat.
There was no COVID, masks, or global fear.
As I gaze pondering at myself in a mirror
What will the next chapter bring?
Que sera sera, but curiosity is king
I have no kids and my mom is dead
Roses on her gravestone are deep and red
I miss her everyday
My hair… like hers, now turned gray
One day we’ll be reunited
In heaven we’ll all be delighted
But until then,
It will be my trend
Trying different things
with yarn and strings
And learning many skills
Don’t worry about me, I’ll take my pills
And hold on to life and all its joys
I like the silence and I like the noise
The good and the bad, everything I’ve ever had
It’s all precious to me
So much to know and learn,
As vast as the ocean and all its churns
The Universe has been good to me
And because of this my mind is free
Everything has value and I love it that way
As I patiently wait for the Brand New Day.
Never Beaten
by Sissy G
  
          	I just don't want to argue anymore
    I've had a moment of clarity
		  	Is this what my life has come to?
			Silence for solidarity?
			You look at me with loving eyes
			But incomplete sincerity
			You see me as your helping cause,
			You see me as your charity.
			But don't blame yourself
			Let no hurt come from within
			I chose to let you pity me
			And, with a blind eye, let you in.
			With every painstaking word you throw at me
			I choose to stand in sin.
			Pride allows me to become your target
			I choose to let you win!
			I know what heartache lies ahead
			I know just what you'll say
			And yet I stand with my head held high
			Never looking away.
			
			My mind is screaming at me,
			"Say something back!"
			It would be easy to give in
			Cause patience is what I lack.
			But I continue to stand firm
			Keeping my mind on track.
			It will soon be over
			And all will fade to black.
			When I hear him speak the words
		  "I love you"
			I know it's finally done,
			I know the worst is through.
			We hug, ... We kiss
			Just like we always do.
			Another crisis averted
			We carry on anew.
			If only there were words
            To describe the pain inside.
			Carrying this anguish,
			And no one to confide.
Words Escape Me
by Gabe Criado
          
          Sometimes words escape me
          How do I explain how much I care?
          How much I need you
          How right you are?
          I never thought I needed to say more
          Those precious three words
          What more proof do you want?
          I touch you with all my heart
          I speak into your eyes
          Obviously you are numb to these
          Can't you see my soul yearns for you?
          My heart beats for you
          You say you're confused
          Why would I care?
          How could I not?
          All I can be is myself
          I'm showing you the only way I know
          If that's not good enough for you then...
          It's no use
          I'm no good.....
The Ideal
by Pauline Jane Castillo
          
          Why I am so choosy
          Why don't I just take it easy?
          Why don't I want the right one?
          Yet, I can't see the ideal man.
          
          All I want is to have a partner
          A friend or can it be a lover
          A companion with me forever
          And to hurt me is never.
          
          To love with all my heart and soul
          Is definitely his only goal
          I want him to be kind yet gorgeous
          But his habit will never be hideous.
          
          My knight in shining armor
          A man with a rare glamour
          His pride never be obnoxious
          And for being simple is famous.
          
          A man perfectly handsome
          Tall, powerful and wholesome
          Never been conceited
          And yet everybody's interested.
          
          He's never been ashamed to cry
          But to be caring always try
          He'll do all the impossible
          To show how he's lovable.
          
          He had a strong personality
          And a clearer identity
          Easily to accept his mistake
          'Cause it is for his own sake.
          
          All I want is a man
          Yes, a man, a grateful one
          A man who's almost perfect
          No one will try to reject.
          
          He is kind and loyal
          Well, for me, he is the ideal
          If my man is surely this extreme
          Sad?! 'Cause he's just in my dream.
The Meadow
by Lindsey Ramos
          
          It is a white afternoon.
          The white of indifference, of parts
          unremembered in dreams. White the sky,
          the sun blares white on spider webs
          threatening entanglement.
          
          You read to me from a white page.
          “Any man who takes refuge from behind the
          excuse of his passions
          is not an honest man.”
          You drop your book, throw back your head.
          and turn your eyes towards me.
          
          I focus on scattered
          dandelions. The white day
          filters through the yellow weeds.
          A nice picture, I decide. Yellow
          to relieve the whiteness.
          
          Walking home,
          I kick off the white puffs
          of dandelions already gone to seed.
          Hiding behind my passions, I decide,
          Is only a white lie.
Ode on the Death of a Daughter
by Alan Charles Bennett
          
          She was all alone
          In that seedy hotel room,
          When death came
          And slept with her
          Like an unrestrained shadow,
          Came not as a stranger,
          But as a familiar lover,
          She welcomed with abandon,
          And breathed her last --
          In his amatory clasp.
          
          Prescription meds whelmed
          Her sleeping body
          The Coroner’s Report
          Was clear to see:
          “OVERMEDICATED”
          When she ceased to be.
          No regal goodbye
          Nor a memorable sigh,
          A cash payment turned
          Her ashes into a simple urn.
          
          But my child never died,
          She kept the golden glow
          Of a better life inside;
          Her perilous fight,
          Of wounds and scars
          Frightened kindred foe
          And friend alike;
          Yes, gone from sight
          But her spiritual stance
          Continues to dance.
          
          Was I alone to see
          My child’s struggle
          To be set free
          From the bonds
          Of her adult life,
          The crippling pain
          Of a junkie’s strife
          That slashed and tore
          At her flesh and soul,
          But from an eternal mist
          She raised a defiant fist.
          
          Yes, the dreaded call
          Came in the afternoon
          Ambulance and police
          A siren at peace
          Would soon arrive
          But nothing in words
          Could put aside
          Her last phone call,
          Echoed in my ear:
          “I Love you, Dad…”
O Weep Not For Me
 by Alan Charles Bennett
          
          O Weep not for me
          When flesh is gone
          Look to the stars
          Among galaxies unfound
          There I will be.
          
          O Weep not for me
          A box of bones
          An empty shell
          Left far behind
          Above a tolling bell
          
          O weep not for me
          From a pulpit's rhyme
          In toast or boast
          Or even in jest
          Just gone from our time.
          
          O weep not for me
          My spirit is gladsome
          To wander away
          What creations will come
          Along my starry way.
          
          O weep not for me
          My life of dreams
          Will keep me warm
          On comet streams
          Above a solar storm.
          
          O weep not for me
          Shed not your tears
          Instead find cheer
          No one is ever lost
          In my expanding sphere.
I Am Called Aged.
 by Alan Charles Bennett
          
          I am called aged
          Life has closed about me
          I am wrapped in my own pale shroud
          The illuminated shadow of my body appears
          My life mask has been laid upon my face
          I am called aged
          I am not heard - hardly ever seen
          The TV left on in the lounge is louder
          I lurk and shuttle about the empty hall
          No brisk or boldly walk-about
          No need for medication - I am always medicated
          Eyes are for crying, mine only itch
          I am alone, often very alone.
          I am called aged
          I am called aged.
Sophia
 by Brenda Hall
          
          I believe you hide behind your tough front
          When you won't hug me
          Or when you tell me you hate me
           
          I believe that you are a victim of your circumstances
          All those layers of chaos
          Lies 
          And deceit
          I know your crying out for help
           
          Each time you see me or text me a cruel message
          I know you know it's wrong to behave that way to me
          I know you want to love me
          Love Daddy
          Love us equally
           
          This is my hope for you
          That through therapy
          And time away from Daddy
          That you will listen to your heart instead of that voice inside your head
          And you'll learn to love me
           
          Love,
          Mom
Weighted
 by Nicole Woodson
          
          All the beauty of this world.
             The mundane and the decrepit,
          The diseased and the unfortunate.
             All the evil in this world.
          The hypocrites and the greedy,
             The hateful and spiteful
          and the indifferent.
             All the sadness in the world.
          The dead, and lost and the bereaved.
             All this in the world,
          and I exist.
             My drunken passion.
          My fearful pains.
             My relentless thought and worry.
          My uncontrollable urge to destroy and mutilate.
             A fiery lust for all which is dark and
          foreboding.
             I suffer beneath a shroud of an unatainable life force.
          All the beauty,
          all the evil
          all the sadness,
          and I merely exist.
Train 266 Limited
 by Nicole Woodson
          
          The foreboding movement through the litter speckled
          overgrown blur of dimming sunlight.
          Droplet trails forming on the ever darkening glass, that
          is slowly revealing a pale face.
          A face that seems un-recognizable.
          Torn, ravaged, and worried.
          The color is melting away as fast as the sinking daylight.
          The ghostly apparition in the glass becomes more and
          more defined...
          The man made propelling hunk of steel carries both I and the
          figure in the glass,
          hurling us through the world un-aware
          of the next step.
          I envy the creature in the glass...
          she will remain on
          the forward bound motion, as for myself...
          I will be stepping
          off into uncertainty.
Trust
 by Brittany Garity
          
          Why is trusting so hard for me
          Why must I always think twice?
          I think you know the answers to these
          my problems that I keep
          Buried inside so far out of reach
          I think you know you've done this to me
          I gave you my heart along with my trust
          And you threw them aside
          Again and again
          No longer I'll love you is what I said
          When I tossed you aside
          But still you stay in my head
          In my dreams night and day why do I do this why must you stay
          I wish you would leave my mind for good
          I wish my love for you would turn cold as it should
          It's been so long since you have been around
          But I hear your voice in every sound
          Sometimes I catch myself looking for you
          And this I wish I could undo
          For it makes me feel untrue
          Untrue to the one that love's me now
          To the one I've givin a vow
          To love and honor only him
          But still my mind cheats from within
          How do I stop this
          I do not know
          I wish I could just let you go...
Gonna Be His Moon
 by j r hammond © 07/07
          
          She knew she wasn’t ever gonna be his moon.
          ‘cause the things he did to her were dumber than a loon.
          He’d promise her the worl’,
          then she’d find him
          chattin’ up some other grrl
          He’d tell her he’d be goin’ down...town
          and she’d see him in the mall.
          (You could tell she wasn’t that enthrall’.)
          And she’d hear he’d been seen
          rubbing faces with some...ditzy human bein’,
          blond...
          While Jojo languored cooked up
          instead of hooked up
          somewhere on the softer side of
          On...
          You here, me...it’s the hold-on grrrl,
          you, me, the good man at your side.
          These bright wondrous days are for when we love.
          Life--y’all--boils down to a few salient days:
          the ones when we are love.
          You who make me laugh.
          You here, me.
          The rest be chaff.
          Yesterday afternoon
          I was sitting/in my car/in the safeway/Sparkling lot
          Listening to the snooze upon the radio.
          My car’s burnin’ oil just like the nation
          (tryin’ to stay ahead of China and Big Oil’s constipation.)
          And I’m Thinking,
          angry. romantic, and dangerously lost ! ,
          of Starting up
          Some sort of "Don’t Tread On Me"
          to make the Boss man even more angry.
          Like me:
          romantic, and dangerously lost.
          He be some kinda foo’! Man!
          He turn my brown ass blue.
          now:
          She knew she wasn’t ever gonna be his moon.
          Because the things he did to her were dumber than a loon.
          He promise her the whirl,
          then she find him in the mall
          chattin’ up some other grrrl.
          He tell her he be goin’ down...town
          and how he got aroun’.
          She hear he been seen
          rubbing faces
          with some ditzy free for all.
          Latina.
          While Jojo languored all cooked up
          curled
          and broke
          like some defunct...
          Concertina.
          It was a day for the audacity of hopes
          And I had the paper open to the Sun.
          Cuppa coffee on the dash–this was some kinda fun.
          I was counting the dead as best I could,
          Until the numbers turned to oatmeal
          In my head. Or vice versa.
          I dug into the billions wasted, stolen, lost...out upon the sea...under desert rocks...
          ...in bad peep-hole’s pockettes.
          Burnt. Manured somewhere. Or forgotten like squirrels lose nuts.
          I got all confused.
          That led me to a-dreamin’ ‘bout the more manageable simple number
          of wars per century, and if ours was not the worst of all the bad...
          viewed
          from this point of human evo- or devo- or reso-solution.
          And a sun-dried killing field where there was only one army not at home
          whose jones was blowing
          up no one
          homes
          so that was not a war...exactly.
          When my eye caught something all weird and fluttery ‘cross the street
          high up on the tarry old telephone pole–slash–dead tree
          W’all be darned if they wasn’t a couple a coupling
          California Blue Jays up there high above ‘t all,
          Kali-forni-cating’ they (dumb little) brains out.
          "Omigod! Omigod!" she seemed to squawk
          squashed down upon their/her polestand. "Omigawd!"
          As her old man went, "Uhnt. Uhnt-uhnt!"
          And–finally, "Uhnt...!"
          Just like any man.
          One more Spring.
          Oh. Joy,
          High hopes.
          You here, me...it’s the hold-on, grrrl,
          you, me, the good man at your side.
          This bright or gray, illuminated day, when we love.
          Life boils down to a few salient witnessings:
          the ones when we are love.
          You here, me.
          The rest be chaff.
          High hopes.
-Love-
 by Jonathan Siegel
          
          too tiny a word
          to express what i feel
          it should, in size, exceed all words
          the others should cower in its presence
          'never was there life in me
          until the day she danced into my eyes
          in her arms, lie worlds unfathomable
          her smile has effect beyond comprehension
          her touch releases unearthly passion'
          and it's to her i go
          like a fool
          armed with nothing
          but that small word
          -love-
Attic Rats
 by Rozene Logue
          
          I would like to hide my venting book
          safe and secure in some small nook,
          locked away from prying eyes,
          none to read in found surprise.
          I need to hide my venting book
          where kids and kin can't sneak a look,
          buried deep in some small trunk
          to mold away above the flurry
          of mayhem life and and descendant's scurry.
          I want to hide my deepest thoughts
          of how I'd like to kick some ass
          and stomp the pissants from my past.
          I want to tell my deepest thoughts
          of how I'd like to cut his throat
          and tell the world of what I wrote.
Love Hurts
 by Nathan
          
          When you're finally in love with someone and know you're a person that doesn't let your
          guard down, but because you're to busy with her, you forget about the world.
          
          Suddenly you never see her again, until one day she comes back and tells you "I can't really
          see you anymore because something happened, but I still love you."
          
          You still love her too, your heart starts to feel depressed and is straining for someone,
          but you MUST remain faithful. For that comes a price. As you start feeling a hole
          in your heart that grows, and desire for that special someone.
          
          So you listen to other things like songs, because they fill that hole, but it never makes
          it fully whole as you still want for her. She comes back no more than seven minutes and she
          has to go. Your heart just started filling that hole up, until she had to go, then it sank back down.
          
          Now your heart feels heavy like the hole is filling up with darkness and you start to feel old and lonely.
          
          You know that you could leave her and just be with someone else. She'll never know,
          but then she could be the one. The one you've been waiting for. You're the only one that must live with the decision you made.
          
          I would want to wait for that person, and I will.
So Called
 by Judy Liza Velasco
          
          You called me your best friend,
          yet left me to cry all alone, 
          now im dying and so is ur soul. 
          you became a slut and all you do is fuck, 
          hes not even your boyfriend,
          just another fatass with some luck, 
          it hurts to know what u became, 
          another dumbass hoe with no fucken brain, 
          so keep sucking those dicks, its all u have left,
          cuz now i moved on and found a new best friend.
          
Truth
 by Catrina Rose Molina
          
          Must be crazy in your world blonde hair blue eyes crazy girl
          Just like me you can see how crazy life remains to be
          They look in our eyes but can they see the true beauty in you and me
          Do they understand why our hearts weep can't they see it's hard to sleep
          No one there while you weep
          Will they understand our pain or will they still remain cold and vain
          Memories of happy times thought in my mind of sad sorrow rhymes
          Is there someone there to love and trust or will it always turn to lust
          Another hit of that joint another drink of that beer
          Takes away all the fears.
          
Feelings
 by Aimee Michael
          
          I'm Jealous
          Jealous of seeing my friends have such a wonderful life while I think mine is totally useless.
          Jealous of seeing my friends live life to the fullest when I just watch and wait.
          Jealous to see them pretend that they hate themselves when I really do sometimes.
          Jealous to have nothing to look forward for in life but they do.
          Jealous that tomorrow morning they'll wake up and live their life all over again and I won't.
          
          I'm Curious
          Curious to see what my friends are gossiping about but get even more curious when they don't tell me.
          Curious to see what's going to happen next in life.
          Curious to find out how much peoples lives have changed through out the years.
          Curious to see how much I'll change in the future.
          Curious to see if there is a future for me.
          
          I'm Scared
          Scared to see what's becoming of life.
          Scared of what people say about the future.
          Scared to see if what they say will come true.
          Scared that the world will end sooner or later.
          Scared that I will die sooner or later.