Poetry Sharing Page

Residents of the Bloomfield and surrounding communities are invited to submit their poetry for consideration to appear on the library’s Poetry Sharing Page!

Poetry submissions (up to three one-page poems at a time) are accepted on a monthly basis and are due by the 15th of each month. (Some slight reformatting of your poem may appear due to technical constraints). For all questions or submissions contact Tom Nicotera at tnicotera@libraryconnection.info.


Rise

Time and death are the enemies of all men,
because of Adam and Eve’s immortal sin.
Sooner or later, we will ultimately close our eyes,
but one day to come, we will have the chance to Rise.

Yes, we will all Rise and face a final judgment,
we’ll see God and Jesus our Savior, who was sent.
On this momentous day, we will open up our eyes,
and see all who have died come alive and Rise.

Shall we Rise up in joy or shall we Rise up in fear-
waiting and listening for His final judgment to hear?
Will our souls live and burn in Hell for all of eternity,
or will our souls live and shine with our Creator whom we’ll see?

Only when we Rise and hear God’s voice say that all is well,
will we know whether we will go to Heaven or go to Hell.
For now we must fight those who are evil and full of hate,
until the Creator and Savior arrive to judge our fate.

by Woodrow Dixon


NATIVE SON

As American as,
and Kissinger, Crazy Horse,
I am proud to be.

by Paul Bussan


BEYOND MACHINE INTELLIGENCE

Statistically,
I‘m not surprised,
but knowing, in ad-
-dition to the numbers,
the people involved,
I’m even less so.

by Paul Bussan


3 TRUTHS AT 24 FRAMES PER SECOND

“As Jeanne Eagels,
Kim Novak
is out of
her depth.

“William Holden,
in a movie,
hasn’t looked
so alive in years.”

“…and on
the screen, a
a vacuum called
Eddie Fisher.”

by Paul Bussan


Roots

I’m impudent but a good student,
Prudent, inclusively intrusive, but
I am experiencing a lack within my lexicon
Due to chemo brain, depression,
Hackers, hijackers, and whackers.
I’ve been wrecked into a divide
too bulging wide to bridge.
I sink into the humus, wherein
I don’t make much sense to most.
In my roots I am a Swedish witch
Stirring pots in the root cellars
Brewing up a foolery of potions,
Herbs, beets, potatoes, and gemstones Stirring the big iron cauldron
With root fire in the dark earth room.

by Susan Allison


Over and over again,
This poem to me I send,
Every morning unto mine eyes,
Into my soul these words reside.

Vv, you are the love of my life ,
With you I’ll spend the rest of my days,
With love so strong, as a fire Which stands brightly ablaze,
You are whom I accept, with every flaw, imperfection, and dept.

To love yourself , and to love others is the simple act of loving God,
Trusting him, brings my mind to peace,
Bringing true pleasure like a holiday feast,
Im already so fly, and ready to fly,

Not just fly but soar so high,
As an Eagle God desired for me to be,
So for the rest of my days I will Love me,
Over and over again.🙂

by Veanna J.


Images

I have seen Images of Great Warriors from the past,
I don’t know how much longer seeing these Images will last,
These Images come from out of nowhere and then disappear fast,
Sometimes these Images are a blur with no shadows cast.

I have seen these Images during the day and at night,
Sometimes these Images are cloudy – other times they’re bright,
These Images come out of nowhere then disappear out of sight,
Sometimes these Images appear at my left other times at my right.

Are these Images forewarning me about things to come?
Are these Images telling to be smart and stop being so dumb?
Are these Images telling me to look where we have come from?
Seeing these Images of Great Warriors scare me and make me numb.

I have seen the Images of Great Warriors from the past,
Seeing these Images is something that will forever last,
Now I wonder if I’ll see Images of Great Warriors to come,
I wonder which great future generation they will rise from?

by Woodrow Dixon


No Interruptions: Please

In the express interest of saving myself
The Trouble, I’ve shut down the portion
Of my brain that would ordinarily care
Until further notice, is all
Conservation of all things energy is all the rage
Don’t cha know?
Thank you for your deepest understanding

by Marie Altenor


O Mother

O Mother I find myself adoring artists,
the way they conjure angels and demons,
which is what you always did.

Thank God you found those voices,
as if your body and mind were in prison
and you found a way to communicate through birds.

Let’ s throw back a glass of wine together,
toast and say good-bye
to the angels and demons that haunt us –
May we meet them again, but not today.

by Susan Allison


Who Am I?

I am flesh, blood and bones and full of life,
but I continue to deal with hatred and strife.
I am human just like everyone else you see,
but for some strange reason you ignore me.

Who am I, I wonder out loud with a bit of pain?
Am I that invisible? It is driving me insane.
Who am I, I often ask myself with a bit of shame?
Can someone tell me? Is this just a sick game?

I breathe, I love, I hurt, but I still feel the hate,
I see and feel it, I want to be equal, don’t make me wait.
I am visible to the naked eye, I am not a blur,
So when you do see me, don’t call me a racial slur.

Who am I? I am human just like you – created by God,
who made us all from the same cold earthly sod,
So I know who am I, I also know who you are,
So see me for what I am, a gifted and mighty shining star.

by Woodrow Dixon