© Patrick DeBauche, 1998 for Poetry Life & Times
PAGE TWO
PAGE TWO
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gently and rhythmically
DICHOTOMY
My life is a dichotomy,
I lie, I cheat, I listen
I say I will, but then I don’t
I do it right, I do it well,
I said I would, but I forgot,
I’m here in body, not in soul,
My life is a dichotomy
A true man's man standing
Our memory is a sweet torture.
The emotional letting
collaborated with her friend
PATRICK DeBAUCHE
To produce this stunning
combination of her poetry
and his artwork.
for another example.
has had her work showcased
on the Aylad website and won
first prize in the Aylad satirical
poetry competition. She is mainly
a writer of fiction but branches
into poetry from time to time,
especially humorous poetry.
All Of God's Perfection
© Lisa Petty 1998
you draw your quiet breaths.
the longest lashes overlap
your eyelids
closed so softly,
and lie perfectly
on your rose-colored cheeks.
auburn hair
cascades across your forehead.
perfect eyebrows fade to match.
brilliant skin glides across
the most perfect little nose.
picture-perfect tiny lips
rise to smile,
as your sweet slumber
brings you perfect dreams.
surely God sat back
in all of His perfection
when He created you,
and smiled too.
© Lisa Petty
I act or I react
I think I’m this, I’m really that,
I’m fiction, then I’m fact.
I never lend an ear,
I’m honest and I’m faithful
I care, or I don’t care.
I shall and then I shan’t
I will, and then some days I won’t
And sometimes I just can’t.
I do it all half-assed
I drag it out the whole day through,
I do it really fast.
I don’t forget a promise
I believe in all I say and do,
I’m such a doubting Thomas.
I’m into what I do
I really cannot stand you
I’m so in love with you.
I just looked up the word,
To say that it is something else
Is really quite absurd.
is a regular contributor and critic on the AYLAD newsgroup and has had several poems and stories published over the years.
YOU WERE MY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
© 1998 Joyce Tres
in the middle of the fire.
A soul-shifter embellishing
stories for every situation.
Life was sporting to you
and love was the same.
It was capture and surrender
I could only enjoy the ride.
You did everything with a
passionate virtuosity; I
was young and impressionable
you wore me out. I enjoyed
your good times, but it was
your lovemaking I remember with
great fondness. I've never met
another with your appetite.
Now when we meet we have the
same twinkle in our eyes.
TOUCH
© 1998 Joyce Tres
felt deeply inside.
No tactile place
this heart of mine.
Then passion rose
from dormant state.
To be seen in your
blue eyes again. Our
love, our passion were
one and same to come and
go as though a flame. But
the touching of souls was
placed aside, to be withheld
at will, thus denied. What to fill
or bridge the gap, or slay what
ghosts, or fill what holes; to
penetrate our fortress still
to touch our souls at lover's will?
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