What's in a name? Apparently a lot.

Hi everyone,

Effective today, January 24th, this blog has been moved to a new address http://thepoetsrevue.blogspot.com.  The initial title was meant to be a personal joke but since those are so hard to communicate at times I've decided to use a more broadly appealing title instead in response to feedback I've received.  As earlier noted my goal is to create a forum for amateur and published poets alike to share their passion so I hope this title will inspire people to start submitting their writings.  If you like what you have read thus far please tell others to visit as well and subscribe to this site.  Your feedback is invaluable so I appreciate your honest opinions.

Thanks.

Little Sally's Doctor Visit ©

By Cici


Dear little needle, how tiny you are
I'm not sure your medicine will get very far.
I cower at your presence, I truly must confess
that little smart I fear one can only guess

Please little needle, make it quick this time.
or else I promise I'll not pay this doctor a dime.
Make sure the remedy brings some swift relief
or I'll for certain think this doc's a thief.

I'll try not to cry when you enter my arm
for they just might escort me to the Funny Farm.
They don't realize that we must first reason 
for if we don't, I'll not be well anytime this season.

Shh, Don't Speak ©

By ciCi

Lover, lay me down gently 
upon thy bed of conquest.
Speak my name softly
but clearly,
so I know it's of me you're thinking.

Yes, splay your hands across my back
And envelope me,
So I forget our soon parting.
Explore my every contour 
as a connoisseur to a fine wine.
Firey kisses dancing o'er me
in cascading waterfalls
that linger in secret places.

Trace the fullness of my mouth
and let me be tortured in spades.
Define the outlines of my throat
and discover the peaks and valleys 
of my world are but the beginning.

Better Late Than Never...

By CiCi

Hello everyone.  It just dawned on me that thus far I have remained passive by only posting poems and have yet to try and connect personally with you.  I would like to first say thank you for visiting and subscribing to my blog.  Ever since I was a teenager, eons ago, I have been writing poetry and short stories.  However, I was so afraid of my thoughts being rejected and ridiculed that I wrote in secret and buried the scraps of paper with no intent for them ever to be seen.  It took a long while but I finally got it through my head that negative reviews are ok.  

It is amazing how afraid we are of failure that it sometimes paralyze us to the point of never even trying.  Yet we look around and see that so many people have failed, sometimes multiple times (Donald Trump comes to mind) or are not universally liked (quite a few) yet they do not allow that to stop them.  My goal is not only to have a way to display my writing but more so to create an interactive forum to give voice to other writers both amateur and published alike.  Here you can display your work and allow friends, family and total strangers to give their feedback.  Have fun sharing your passion with others instead of hiding your work.  I must emphasize though that we only want original pieces to avoid any copyright infringements.

Send all submissions to B.P.Revued@gmail.com. You may also send general feedback to the same address.

Feel free to leave your honest opinions.

The Crush ©

By CiCi 

(Recalling a young couple I once saw together on a foggy morning.)


We are two wisps of gossamer smoke
waltzing unaware through a blinded world.
We think we know it all right now.
Speaking boldly in casual tones
re-echoed by shapeless forms.
We are two wisps of gossamer smoke.

A thoughtless existence of just being
Feeling, dreaming, time on time, in time
We see but vaguely as through a screen
yet our vision feels unobscured.
We are but two wisps of gossamer smoke.

We are but in a thought, what we are.
Not alike, not different,
and not at all quite real.
We are unsure, we are mere children,
ignorant as to what we should do.
Awkward kisses and breathless whispers
thankfully unseen, thankfully unheard.
Glad to be two wisps of gossamer smoke.

The Cube ©

By CiCi

(A note from the citizens of Cube World)

I've been sitting here all morning
trying to get my day started.
But my concentration was shattered
when my neighbor farted.
She quickly moved her chair
and shuffled some papers too.
But none of that could cover
the sudden stench of poo.

Of course I had to take a walk
to breathe some fresher air.
But there went an hour or two,
A little chitchat here and there.
By now I am a bit hungry
and must find myself a snack.
I leave for the kitchen,
and met Suzie on my way back.
We laughed about old Sally
who wears her skirts too short
and tsk tsked at nosey Dennis
who's the boss's cohort.

These people we work with!
They never get anything done.
I wonder what's their problem,
and I'm not the only one.

By now it is almost four
and I'm ready for a break.
The day has just flown by me
it's such a busy week.
My deadline's fast approaching
and my project's still not done.
I simply can't imagine
where the time has gone.

We Were Friends ©

By Cici

We were friends way back when
the grass was never too tall
and the forest never too thick
and dreams came alive with the dawn.

I drank at the fountains of your laughter
and was nourished through your embrace.
Hand in hand along we went
building castles from the sands.

Many hours we whiled away
writing dreams among the stars
and volleying fantastical notions
about like a cat and its yarn.

We would be conquerors,
queens of our domain,
Riding in the highest places
in ours, an idyllic realm.

Ah, but now we sit side by side
Upon a time warped portico
Sipping our fine fare, far removed
from where we once were.

Laughter, be it our lone legacy
even as the memories fade.
Hand in hand we shall remain,
friends from another place and time.

The Old County Fair ©

By Morgan Lorenzo

(Memories of childhood)

"Riddle me this

And riddle me that"

So says the man in the black hat

Waving his wand all around

If you notice,

He's not touching the ground

"What hath three eyes 

But only one that opens?"

"Lad over there, pose you a guess

To win two pence?"

As if summoned, the crowd had gathered

Rapt in awe and wonder

As though naught else mattered.

His smile spanned from ear to ear 

and eyes a crimson blaze.

A flourish, a bow and a wink 

He was set and ready to amaze.

From his hat a rabbit appeared

And skittered across the stage

Oohs and ahhs in a percolating wave

Uttered the young to advanced in age

A dove from thin air

And a damsel sawed in twain

No one would dare challenge

This magician's reign.

As the show progressed

The spell grew stronger

And the biting Autumn cold

Was felt no longer 

Warm apple cider 

Wafted on the night air.

Sticky- fingered children 

Were glad to be there

Cuz there was no place

Like the old county fair.

Slinking through the masses

Like ghosts on cats feet.

A bump, a nudge or even,

From under their seats.

Came the collectors

Of all that was rare and fine.

A fair was never complete

Without some of their kind.

With faces wide opened 

and wallets unguarded 

A fool and his money 

Are so easily parted.

But let's not now grumble

And cause a big row.

Said he the magician,

Relax and enjoy the show.

Monsoon Season ©

By CiCi


Tears and rain
Intermingled, they become one
As I and you once were.
I blinked to clear my eyes
And hours later I'm still here
Watching and wond'ring
about this wall

Today as you frolicked in the park
On the grassy knoll,
On the yellow blanket I had bought,
Sipping Cabernet with a twist,
Of Manchego and Brioche,
Exchanging sultry glances and
Fluttery kisses as your
Skillful fingers chased
Sun-kissed tendrils from her nape...
I looked on and remembered.

But this wall
It has become so high and thick
From, I know not whence.
I've called out to you
But you hear me not
I have become this shade in which I stand
A pebble off your sidewalk
A thistle by the way...
Trying to forget how to remember

Lipstick Smears ©

by CiCi

Me?
I'm alright.
Don't need a thing
Ain't worried one bit.

Me?
I'm alright.
These eyes?
They're just tired.
These lips?
They don't quiver,
just cold in here I guess.

Me?
I'm alright.
I'm always alright...