top of page
Search Results
Type
Category
3265 items found for ""
- SELF-PROCLAIMED WRITER OF POETRYIn Poetry·November 4, 2023I, self-proclaimed writer of poetry, Read a bit of doggerel, Listen to a country song, Watch a stream skipping over rocks, A bird flying by on a way to somewhere, Assist the sun in rising, later, Putting him to bed, and, Welcoming my lady moon, Lay down my pen in darkness, Close my eyes, and, Let my poem write itself. • Donovan Baldwin111
- WHEN HAPPINESS COST A DOLLAR A GAMEIn General Discussion·November 4, 2023In 1967, while in the U.S. Army, I was stationed at an American air force base, outside a small town, in the middle of Texas. Being a normal American lad, I indulged in the common actitivities of the day, including regular consumption of large amounts of beer at a local bar. My friends and I also played pool (pocket billiards) with another, older denizen of the J&J Tavern, in San Angelo, Texas. His name was Lacey. He was OLD, to our young eyes, although younger then, than I am now. Worn out cowboy hat and boots; dirty, dingy shirt. Big beer belly hanging over a huge western belt buckle, and pants that looked worse than the shirt. Lacey loved to drink beer and shoot pool. He was not a very good pool player, although he loved to bet a dollar a game. He was so bad, so beat-up looking, and so carefree, that we often let him win his dollar back after beating him badly in a game. We didn't know whether to feel sorry for Lacey or not. Despite the pleasure he found in drinking beer with his buddies, and shooting pool, all day, he appeared poor. We assumed he was on Social Security or some form of welfare..."the dole" as they say in the U.K., I believe. One bright Summer day a huge new Cadillac pulled up in front of the J&J Tavern. A big woman, wearing a fur coat in spite of the heat, and wearing many expensive looking pieces of jewelry, got out, stomped into the comfortable darkness of the tavern and yelled, "Lacey, get your butt out in that car. You know we're having dinner with the governor and you've got to change out of those rags!" Lacey slunk out to the car. If he had been a dog, not only would his head have been down, but his tail would have been between his legs. As they drove off, my drinking buddy, Bill, who, unfortunately, passed away a couple of years ago still swearing he had introduced me to Clint Eastwood one night at the Mission Ranch in Carmel in 1967.... well,anyway, Bill and I looked at each other in bewilderment. The bartender, straightened us out. She explained that, after scratching out a living for decades on a tiny patch of land with a few head of scrawny cattle, oil had been found directly under Lacey's wee little patch of Earth. Lacey was NOT on the dole. He was one of the richest men in the county! First lesson I took away was to never judge anybody by their appearance. That one's obvious. Over the years, another lesson has become more obvious to me: You can have everything that most people dream of, and still not find happiness. For Lacey, happiness was beer, buddies, and billiards at a dollar a game. The rest just ruined his day. His wife didn't seem that happy either. I told this story for years, and, as I grew older I began to wonder if maybe I had made Lacey up. With the aid of the internet, I actually was able to find out more about him. He died years ago, still a rich man. Don't know if he died a happy man, but, he was rich...for what it's worth. • Donovan Baldwin112
- And so I smileIn Poetry·October 1, 2022I danced in the rain with your breath in my eyes I wet my lips with happiness We silently swayed to Sinatra in the rain your sweet humming a soft caress I felt alive again and so I smiled ... You have changed me transformed me to a young girl again rosy cheeks and starry eyes hidden glances and romantic sighs I feel young again and so I smile ... © Priya ॐ, 10/1 This beautiful painting is by Leonid Afremov I choose to kiss you in the rain…For the rain is gentler than my lips ~ Rumi5216
- Thanksgiving DayIn Poetry·November 26, 2022Hustle and bustle – it’s Thanksgiving Day smell the roast turkey, croissants on the tray cranberries cooking by buttered green beans sweet potato casserole fit for a queen mashed potatoes, a mixed relish dish the dressing and gravy fulfill every wish candles are placed on the table to burn, as scriptures are read, each one in turn favorite choices of grapes from the vine crystal flutes glisten with red and white wine oh, don’t forget Mom’s “turkey bird” toy pull on his string and he’ll sing you a song “hey, good lookin’ - whatcha got cookin’” pretty soon everyone’s singing along at last, all the fixings are ready to eat Dad rings the bell - we all take a seat giving thanks to the Lord, heads bow to pray for all of the blessings He’s given each day after we’re stuffed, and last-but-not-least whipped cream ‘n’ pumpkin pie tops off the feast. now pour the hot coffee - it’s about time to play turn on the TV –It’s football today! Lorene Rogers© November 26, 20223722
- ShadowsIn Poetry·November 3, 2023114
- A POET SILENCEDIn PoetryNovember 3, 2023Hopefully never silenced11
- DifferentIn Poetry·November 2, 2023At time the world Moves around In circles that Confound me Open my eyes To see, I’m different Always heard music And danced to it Knowing nobody understood I don’t care I’m different I think in colors Sing responses Rhyme phrases Move in dance steps I love myself I’m different Every now and then Someone notices My aura catches their eye My song appeals My dance entices Come join me In a perfect world I’d glide without friction Love wholeheartedly Laught always Sing loudly Write freely I can’t wait to find My perfect place Where my special Talents are Cherished and Encouraged Oh wait, it’s here on ArtsKeeper!129
- "PERSHING'S OWN"In Poetry·September 21, 2022A molten sun setting low with mouths agape we stared and watched it sink below the distant water’s edge as music filled the air with sounds beyond compare trumpets, drums and clarinets from that Army band so rare Gathered on the waterfront “Pershing’s Own” Band played An older pair was sitting there tapping feet to the music’s beat He rose to stand and cheered the band as his Navy branch was hailed and every branch regaled With each refrain our pride swelled Old Glory waved and tears fell one perfect summer night at the National Harbor site Lorene Rogers© Sept. 18, 20223549
- The Keepers Of ArtIn Poetry·October 23, 2022They create, innovate, invent, Until their heart is content Using imagination and skill, They find ways to craft and build Through effort and hard labor, They do us a great favor With hands and minds of insight Bringing all works of art to life They are consistent and passionate With a zealous love, everlasting, The joy they are destined to bring From writing, painting, or hearing them sing Every challenge is fun and new A strong wall to breakthrough Expressing themselves, along the way Shining light on the most gloomy day Each of them is different, While still the same The Keepers of Art they are, As they will remain4224
- MY CHILDHOOD MEMORIESIn Poetry·December 30, 20224217
- My world, my vision traditional. New tools. A portrait of me taken. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGlXIT43Ltg peaceIn General Discussion·October 17, 20222730
- Warmth on my FaceIn Poetry·August 17, 2023I gaze into the leaves above I see your face so clearly. Warmth of your touch, ever near Your promises eternal. Your beauty takes away my breath I stand transfixed and frozen. Marveling at your presence here My heart, it hears you calling. My joyful spirit greets your touch I feel my soul uplifting. To join the universal beats It’s song of great thanksgiving. Oh joyful life, oh blessed day I know you’re always with me. Oh let me walk your blessing way And hold your hand forever. Susan Smoter (7.6.2023)3411
bottom of page