· 

The Poets Bay


The Poets Bay-A Blog for Poetry and Prose by CJ Heigelmann

Freely post your poetry or prose in the "Write a Comment" box, along with your name, date and website/Blog/personal web page for readers to follow you.

                                        For video posts, email me at cj@cjheigelmann.com

Warmest Regards - C.J. Heigelmann                                                             


C.J. Heigelmann

Tuesday, 20 March 2018

A Little Bit by C.J. Heigelmann


Ben Underwood Sr.

Tuesday, 20 March 2018

The Trade by Ben Underwood Sr.


Lavette Cherie

Thursday, 22 March 2018

Moments by Lavette Cherie



Write a comment

Comments: 10
  • #1

    CJ Heigelmann (Sunday, 04 March 2018 15:16)

    Epiphany Rising by C.J. Heigelmann

    Here I sit wondering, on an island betwixt discontent and hope. "Is there more?"

    The conscience of my mediocrity reaches out once more to my present paradigm of belief.

    With boldness it reaches further.

    "There must be more! More to this life..." The thought echoes outward into the infinite, the source.

    Howbeit, even the shadow of truth understands the oneness of the question and the answer..

    The eclipse of my soul divides asunder, as the demise of my mind's archetype begins.

    Ever changing is the course of my soul, to glimpse the light which breaches the dark void.

    I move toward the light. Why?

    I now understand. I am light, and I want to go home.

  • #2

    Geary W. Atkins (Tuesday, 06 March 2018 17:35)

    The Absent Sunrise by Geary W. Atkins

    Death has come and sounded it's call-
    Some were my friends, but there was kinship for all.

    None will be spared the reaper his scythe-
    For we have all knelt before the alter of life.

    Some live in the past, today or beyond-
    To Death makes no difference hither or yon.

    Life may be with me till eighty and four-
    Or perhaps tomorrow there may be no more.

    Some live till death comes, not knowing what it's about-
    I have lived this year and now have no doubt.

    So when death calls, no regrets do I have-
    I have seen, felt and tasted Life's good and bad.

    January 10, 1973

  • #3

    Geary W. Atkins (Tuesday, 06 March 2018 17:41)

    THE MAN WHO NEVER WAS by Geary W. Atkins

    At an early age he realized something was wrong, all around him he noticed people were wearing masks. His parents donned their masks before leaving home and in the company of strangers. Their masks hid their pain and anguish from the world, but he saw behind them. As he grow, his mother prepared him to be fitted for his mask. He tried but it was always too tight and restricting, at times almost suffocating. She warned him to always keep it on, for not to do so would invite disaster. He wore the mask and he was never seen, he became the man who never was. At times he sought out the "White Horse" of pleasure or the "Flower of Fantasy" and soared to great heights, he became the man he would have been. He reveled in the adulation of the crowd, he possessed the "Golden Fleece." Then he awoke, shakened, undaunted, he straightened his mask and stepped outside. Just then the herd rushed by, brushing him aside, for see him they did not, he was the man who could have been, but, never was.

    - Geary Atkins 4/2/69

  • #4

    Geary W. Atkins (Tuesday, 06 March 2018 17:45)

    THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED by Geary W. Atkins

    ONE DAY WHILE WALKING IN A WOOD
    UPON A CLEARING A CROSSROADS STOOD,
    THE PATH TO CHOOSE CALLED TO MY EYE
    THE UNUSED PATH TROD DID I.

    ALONG THIS ROAD TRAVELERS LIE
    THIS IS THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED BY.
    THE JOURNEYS LONG THE VALLEYS DEEP
    SOMETIMES I LAUGH SOMETIMES IWEEP.

    I NOW APPROACH THE ROADS FINAL BEND
    STRAIGHT AND NARROW AT IT'S END.
    THE JOURNEYS LONG AND SELDOM SAFE
    PROTECTED BY AB]DING FAITH.

  • #5

    Vincent Topp (Wednesday, 14 March 2018 09:43)

    "bad tooth in the smile" by vincent topp

    The sweetest taste is bitter now
    My purest thoughts are poisoned through
    The ghost of fate, keeps mocking me
    Every scar I’ve earned, every slap I deserved.
    I’ve felt the Joy of the thing called sin
    I’ve stole and bought but never received
    I’ve had my fill, my spilling cup
    But now I’m empty, a man of fear and doubt.

    Stand not so tall now, my voice breaks up
    I never believed the pace would slow
    Now I feel the cold and count the suns
    These tattoos are fading not like my memory
    The doves of peace fall stone cold dead.

    The man who wears the guilty coat
    Should realise that life has the last laugh
    You won’t outrun your lies.

  • #6

    VINCENT TOPP (Wednesday, 14 March 2018 12:36)

    long time awake by vincent topp

    The mountains scratch the sky
    Birds of prey shield the sun from unprotected eyes
    Nature is secure, Nature is the ruler.

    Clouds sprinkle rain with magical restorative powers
    There's fortune in this land, above and below the ground
    Everyday is a gift,
    Natural fulfilment the reality.

    The seas are high but the waves are mellow
    Everything's in order, everyone has their own space
    Eternal unity, Sensible philosophy
    'One day at a time, One day at a time'.

    The hours go slowly by,
    Long time awake

  • #7

    Layal Salman (Thursday, 15 March 2018 12:34)

    “The Stranger”

    There must be a catch to lonely waterfall eyes with blue rapids coursing through. A taunting vastness within them that only ignites my curiosity. I yearn to touch the depths of your soul where others can't breathe. To trace my fingertips along every crack that exists in your bones. To know what echoes within your skull after dark. For there must be a catch to eyes like yours, a depth that I still long to explore.

  • #8

    Layal Salman (Thursday, 15 March 2018 12:37)

    “Organ Donor”

    I know it feels like you are bleeding internally; drowning in the blood of your own wounds.
    Eye sockets empty because you have given your eyes to those who could not see beauty in themselves. Lungs shriveled, exhausted of the air that once filled them, as you have given it to those who struggle to breathe.
    Your spine, twisted beyond repair from bending over backwards for those who could not stand on their own. Your ears, deaf, because the tragedy that drips from their lips echoes so loudly that you cannot hear anything else.
    And I know you have countlessly donated your heart—I know it has drained you. All in hopes that through your death, you will have saved the lives of others.

  • #9

    Vincent Topp (Saturday, 24 March 2018 03:34)

    Imitation Of Life By Vincent Topp

    This world is my playground, mine
    I lock down the borders, I push the island away from the mainland
    Detached myself through choice from this fiction called life
    The only realities I acknowledge now are at the end of my own fantasies
    I create my own big bang
    I the creator of my own utopia
    I alone and with an unpoisoned mind
    My thoughts were always interrupted in the other place
    I tried to blend in but it was too high a compromise
    My chime didn't fit with the mundane drone
    It to me is a grotesque imitation of life.

  • #10

    Geary W. Atkins (Wednesday, 04 April 2018 18:39)

    THE CAPTURED BIRD
    One day appeared a bird whose presence attracted my eye. Soaring swift and free, many-colored and gentle of spirit. I knew then that I must have it as my own. After days of watching I snared this fascinating creature and looked upon its countenance. I admired its beauty and strength and gained entrance to new worlds heretofore unknown to me. As time passed a strange thing happened, although the bird had want for nought, it began to diminish. It's keen eye grew dim with a lifeless pallor. The vivid plumage palled before my eyes. It's once powerful wings grew feeble and it began to walk as I did. That once restless spirit radiating panache became content. Then one day it spoke, answering my painful queries of love and devotion. "Free me from the bond of your love into the spirit of your heart". I realized the wrong I had committed to my beloved. Immediately upon release I noticed the transformation of the bird into it's former self. As it soared away it looked back and called, "Now free yourself my friend." The moral of the story is sometimes our love, that may
    stem from our insecurities can stifle and suffocate the growth of our beloved. It can cause a dimming of the spiritual energy and vision, of
    the one we have chosen to trust, love and support and to receive in kind the same gifts. Like the radiant free flying bird we admired and
    wished to have as our own. This changes the flow of our love
    energy from one of unselfishness and support to one of having control of that being. To have and to hold as a possession, this mindset gives rise to the well of insecurity which lies deep in all human beings. Unless that issue is openly and honestly discussed and released as
    a underlying mindset there cannot be a successful relationship that works for both parties and separation is inevitable. Let love between you not be a “bond” but rather become a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Be free and allow your love that same freedom in a relationship. No one can “own” your love they can only “experience” it, as can you with theirs. Free to be you and they to be themselves.
    Loving and sharing freely while mutually supporting one another on your life journey for as long as it may last between you. It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved before.
    - Geary Atkins 2/15/74