Jingle Poetry Community founded by Jingle Yanqui or Jiyan
(9/11/2010-8/17/2011), 9 months after she starts Thursday Poets Rally... ;)
100% professional posts, 100% high quality poetry and collections!
Check IT out below! Giggles!
Foaming Froth by Sina
Edible or not;I’m your hazel affogato
Drinkable or hot;
I’m your caramel macchiato
You will gulp me up one day
To that very final drop
You will drink me up baby
Till you’re down with me on top
I’ll squeeze you like a plum
You’ll juice up off my palm
I’ll hold you up inside
You’ll beg for going down
But you wouldn’t have a clue
All I’d do; only to you
Till you lay it, take it off
All, except your evil side
Then we’ll cook some,
Bake some love
We’ll devour it while it’s hot
don’t wipe it off your mouth
All that froth, that foaming froth;
That froths from falling down…
He
Never Had A Chance by ZQ
“…All we are saying
Is give peace a chance.” John Lennon
Twelve devils dancing on a pinhead
Twirling, almost falling,
Catching each other In sizzling embrace.
Winking, hooting, and hollering
Celebrating the death of peace;
An un-precedent disgrace.
Needle threading cloth
A suture for a dress
In and out, out and in.
A thimble on the thumb;
A thimble on the index.
Another unforgiving tear,
Another uncompromising disgrace,
Peace, should have been naked,
At best.
Where is the catcher in the rye?
Suicide bombers!
Soft targets!
Murder of children!
Children murder parents!
Prophets poison followers!
Followers assassinate prophets!
Where are the angels and cherubims?
Where is the Lord of the dance?
Where is John Lennon?
“…All we are saying
Is give peace a chance.” John Lennon
Twelve devils dancing on a pinhead
Twirling, almost falling,
Catching each other In sizzling embrace.
Winking, hooting, and hollering
Celebrating the death of peace;
An un-precedent disgrace.
Needle threading cloth
A suture for a dress
In and out, out and in.
A thimble on the thumb;
A thimble on the index.
Another unforgiving tear,
Another uncompromising disgrace,
Peace, should have been naked,
At best.
Where is the catcher in the rye?
Suicide bombers!
Soft targets!
Murder of children!
Children murder parents!
Prophets poison followers!
Followers assassinate prophets!
Where are the angels and cherubims?
Where is the Lord of the dance?
Where is John Lennon?
Happy Sunday, Glad To Give You Feedback on what Ji has done
over the past 2.6 years, she started from 0 on 11/28/2009, established herself
by funding Thursday Poets Rally, now Hyde Park Poetry ...
then Jingle Poetry Community (9/11/2010), and JP @ Olive Garden,
later Bluebell Books Twitter Club,
and The Home Made GingerBread Seoulhouse at Dallas,
London, and ....
Jingle has Ji in IT, she loves all of you,
the same way she is honest and
loves her family, not only
she is the first woman who started online poetry
community
via www.wordpress.com blog Jingle in 2010, but also she is the
best or most devoted
and talented poet who owns Jingle Poetry Community (see
link) below,
Again, blogger.com support and inlinkz …have been the closest
friends to the developing and beautiful community after we land on IT!
Right now,
with Morning, Taylor
Boomer supporting,
plus wordpress.com, blogger.com,
INlinkz, and
etc.,
JP @ Olive Garden (9/1/2011 – June
17, 2012)
is promising and grinning….from ear to ear…
everyone who ever
submitted or made comments either are listed at
JP original community blog, or
honored by
Olive Garden right here, see our right side bar for details…
On
a highway day drive in April, I befriended a June bug.
We
got off to a tumultuous beginning:
I
flicked him out the car window, but he stuck around.
I
tested him, he responded, I respected.
He
calmly clung to the review mirror,
and
we began to reveal a bit about our pasts.
He
said his kind gets a bad rap, are considered pests,
but
they don’t seem that bad to me.
He
said he had a bad batch with his woman, needed a new start.
“I’m
glad you’re headed somewhere else,” he said,
“because
that’s exactly where I’m headed.”
He
mentioned something about the crows being thick in these parts,
and
I took that as one of the reasons he wanted out.
“I
don’t mean to be frank, but did the crows grub on your grubs?” I asked.
He
said yes, that his woman didn’t trust him anymore because he couldn’t protect.
“How
can I fend off a crow?” he helplessly wondered aloud. “It’s beyond my control.”
“It’s
beyond your control.”
He
told me his name was Jim.
Jim
the June bug… has quite the jingle.
He
kept the conversation moving along;
he
was a quick witted little fellow.
“I
only have a year to live,” he said. “I don’t have the time to waste any of mine.”
I
asked him what his plans were. He said he was just winging it.
We
went along for a while – at least a mile – in silence.
It
was the comfortable kind of silence, though,
the
kind only two true friends could enjoy.
“Well,”
he said, “this is it. This feels like it. I’ll be going.”
I
wished him the best of luck. He did the same to me.
With
a flick of his wings he was gone. Glenn H. Curtiss* would be proud.
Come
to think of it, I was proud of him, too.
I
hoped his new start was the right one.
And
I hoped the crows were a little less dense.
With an ocean in my eyes and a dagger in my
heart,
I wake up only to see water and blood fuse
into art.
If only I could shoot a beam of messages into
the sky
They haven't taken me yet and I need to know
why?
This is not the place to be. It's alien to me
just as I am to it
Killing my thoughts every now and then, just
bit by bit.
This realm, your home feels like a prison
called Earth
None here to comprehend, to walk, there's a
dearth.
Traversing my way through the labyrinth of
emotions,
I'm the unwary adventurer, unaware of the
solutions.
My losing grip only helps my agony get more
poignant.
Yes, I see it all. I have endured, but now I
am spent.
I wish to be a kaleidoscopic friend, always
with, always there
A part of your emotions, a part of your life,
Just without glare.
I know all your eyes only see the boorish me,
not me from within
Amidst the hacienda of all your human
treachery, all my head does is spin.
I have you in my garret, high there, full of
respect and never ending gratitude
Safe and free, just like yesterday, all your
liberty turns into scorning attitude.
I won’t ask you to change. I won’t ask you to
adjust. It’s me who’s petrified
I might seem complex but for all you do not
know, I’m just countrified.
Check Out
Jiyan’s /jingle Yanqui's Other Online Writing Challenge Prompt
Below, CHUckles!
Bluebell Books Community Blog (5/1/2011 – July 2, 2012)
short story slams....
Humor Prompt:
Promising Poets Poetry Café
Jingle and Jingle Via Aya Wilson
Mozilla Firefox Poetry AT Promising Poets Parking Lot
If
I feel well,
I have to F-E-E-L. . .
I have to F-E-E-L. . .
these
transitory ills
are not what’s real. . .
are not what’s real. . .
but
they defend
a trench
that guards
the deeper,
older circumstance
that’s very hard
to strive against
and still keep up the fine façade,
a normal life to live. . .
a trench
that guards
the deeper,
older circumstance
that’s very hard
to strive against
and still keep up the fine façade,
a normal life to live. . .
Give
up that trench!
Give up those ills!
Charge with a bayonet
against the much too much accrued
internal landfills,
rich litter
of a battery of age-old hurts,
a litany of bound-up anger spurts,
an agony of blown-up, twisted fears. . .
Give up those ills!
Charge with a bayonet
against the much too much accrued
internal landfills,
rich litter
of a battery of age-old hurts,
a litany of bound-up anger spurts,
an agony of blown-up, twisted fears. . .
Be
brave
enough the open field to take–
present
part white flag
and part handshake,
enough the open field to take–
present
part white flag
and part handshake,
Negotiate!
A lasting peace that,
being on untested ground,
from time to time, is bound
to waver. . .
A lasting peace that,
being on untested ground,
from time to time, is bound
to waver. . .
but,
in the calms between the storms,
Take advantage!
The panoramic field is
mine to dance,
to navigate,
a deft, dynamic balance
to create–
new, happy freedom so to savor. . .
Take advantage!
The panoramic field is
mine to dance,
to navigate,
a deft, dynamic balance
to create–
new, happy freedom so to savor. . .
Thanks for sharing your poetry, bless your Summer!
We will be back with U in July!
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