MICHAEL ESTABROOK : 'By the skin of my teeth'
MARIO SALTI : Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind?
PEGGY MEEKS-KING : Black Rose (Sonnet)
POETRYREPAIRS v11.07:077
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'By the skin of my teeth' Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind? Black Rose (Sonnet)  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? GoTo Games

MICHAEL ESTABROOK
'By the skin of my teeth'
I held onto her by the skin of my teeth all through college when her roommates and dorm friends were trying to get her to spread her wings, get to know the athletes and frat boys, when her parents kept badgering her to keep her options open, because I wouldn't be true to her anyway, when we were miles away from one another, and she was trying to fit in at her school, when she decided she needed to date other guys to be certain I was the one, any number of other guys could have come along: football players, math whizzes, handsome wealthy dudes when she went on her big blind date that gruesome day and sent me away when as virtually the only girl in a room-full of math and engineering majors, she flirted like crazy and studied with them and they walked her to class and told her she had such pretty eyes. Yes, I held onto this superlative beauty by the skin of my teeth, but I did and I'd do it all again if I had to. When you find the perfect woman, the perfect one for you, what else could be more important to do with your life.
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'By the skin of my teeth' Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind? Black Rose (Sonnet)  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? GoTo Games
MARIO SALTI
Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind?

Have you ever noticed how much mundane chatter you have blitzing through your mind in a day?

Snippets of conversation from passers by, that infuriating one-sided dialogue from mobile phone junkies, the ever present jingle, jangle, jumble of inane advertising in all its incantations and the searing confusion that emerges from a myriad radios, tv's and ghetto blasters.

No wonder the walkman and now the i-pod have created such a revolution in personal listening behaviour. How much more preferable it is to choose the sonic space we inhabit, blanking out the audible spam of an increasingly alien world.

But how do you deal with this ever present assault once the earphones come out? How long can you stay cool, calm and collected before you start looking for an opportunity to push them back in for a quick fix of Vivaldi, Elvis, 50 Cents or whoever or whatever does the business for you?

The fact is that unless you've perfected the art of TM, Silva Mind Control, or something similar, getting through the day (and the night) in today's multimedia world can be a seriously stressful business.

Sometimes, somehow you just have to get outside it all and switch off. A quiet walk through some undisturbed place in nature can work wonders, but this is not accessible to all of us all the time.

And let's not forget those endlessly repeated fragments and phrases of inner dialogue that keep us awake at night, or worry the hell out of us as we emerge from what little sleep we are able to get.

You know the sort of thing; Why am I always screwing up in this area of my life, what is it about me that makes others hate me so, I'm just not good enough, how ever will I handle this imminent disaster?

We are all prone to fall prey to this kind of negative self-talk when life deals us a tricky hand and even the positive thinkers among us secretly admit that amidst the carefully scripted affirmations designed to give the mind a positive perspective to dwell on, there is invariably some crafty little devil with a megaphone attempting to gatecrash our inner peace.

So what's the solution? Is there one?

I think there is.

Poetry..

Poetry? I hear you cry. Poetry! Come on, that may be OK for those arty farty, intellectual misfits, who look down their noses at mere mortals trying to eke out an honest living to get everything in good enough shape to sleep nights. Poetry might work for the off the wall, strung out weird and wild among us, but Joe Public trying to make good in an increasingly unstable world? I don't think so.

And you know what? I don't blame you. Six months ago I'd have given it the thumbs down too. So what's changed?

Although I was pretty keen on poetry as a kid, I really lost my feel for it once I hit my twenties. For thirty years or so, it never figured in my life at all. Until a few months ago, that is.

I'll spare you the details, but let's just say times were rough and one dark and lonely night I stumbled across a book of verse and read it through. What it taught me was that poems speak to us from a deep place we tend to find when there's nowhere else to go. They seem to provide us with verbal impressions that sometimes echo what is in our own hearts and minds, providing some kind of inner map through the uncharted regions of the soul. They can be a place of sanctuary where they gather like old friends reunited. They can be fun and funny lifting our moods, or deeply introspective, hauling us through a hallway of mirrors of every shape and size.

What is constant about them is the way poems focus the mind and link it to the heart. They seem to speak with a deeper voice – a voice that maybe belongs to part of ourselves that some the higher self, or super mind.

Their true value lies in the place they take you to beyond the words themselves. Not necessarily more positive, or negative, just deeper and truer. So, next time you need to get away from it all, don't reach for the i-pod straight away. Try dipping into some verse, or better yet, jot down a few lines yourself. http://www.funnypoem.net

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Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato



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'By the skin of my teeth' Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind? Black Rose (Sonnet)  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? GoTo Games

PEGGY MEEKS-KING
Black Rose (Sonnet)
The stars on heaven's deck rhyme in hot black. The black and moon-kissed must this writer show When first the teeth ache then the heart attack. Then I would ask a cure for thoughts I know, Where time is wasted in love's sweet decay. Youth holds in light for only one cold kiss. Breathe in the richness of this bitter stay. Rough lips in secret say it's love they miss. Oh moon, you touch the stars before my sight. Wild thoughts on dark wings sing into my room To change all things in this long lonely night, My mad blue mind floats deeply with pale gloom; If fates be wise, then will I grow anew? I know for certain, dearly I love you.
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'By the skin of my teeth'TOP 'By the skin of my teeth'©  MICHAEL ESTABROOK . JH The homely cliche is elevated by its juxtaposition with a persona's major life decision creating an ironic closure.
Are Poems Whispers From The Super Mind?MID  Mario Salti first discovered poetry through a maths text book. Never overenthusiastic about mathematics, he was lucky enough to be presented with a textbook on the subject that headed up each chapter with a quotation from a poem that helped describe the mathematical concept in question.
So it was that Mario first encountered the poetic delights of T.S.Elliot, Shakespeare and a range of less familiar names through the study of numbers.
With the passing years the opportunity for reading and especially writing poetry gradually diminished, as Mario thrust himself into the commercial mechanics of daily life. Now, however, there is once again time to write and Mario has decided to embark on an unusual mission. You can discover what this is at; http://www.funnypoem.net
© Copyright 2006 Mario Salti ./td>
Black Rose (Sonnet)]BTM Black Rose (Sonnet) ©  PEGGY MEEKS-KING . from poetryrepairs 01.07:077
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