Here they are, every one of them! 

Number of contributions including 3 co - writes: 18!!!

Number of words: 3262!!
Yay!

(In chronological order. Also, the text ID of each contribution is available)
~~~~~~~~~~¤ ~~~~~~~~~~~~
 This is about growing up in a small suburban town, on a side street without sidewalks. Instead, in lieu of curbs, some put white painted rocks on the lawn bordering the street.

Walden Drive

Our street, the best street
the mingling of generations
the close proximity, without sidewalks
white painted rocks edging the lawns

the mingling of generations
protected by the hint of fortification
white painted rocks edging the lawns
as if bad luck would be stopped

protected by the hint of fortification
the children of the street safe
as if bad luck would be stopped
so they might spill out onto the street

the children of the street safe
to play their hopscotch and keep-away
so they might spill out onto the street
big sisters watched and shouted “car”

to play their hopscotch and keep-away
when Speedy Lappel drove home from work
big sisters watched and shouted “car”
and the air was summer fine

when Speedy Lappel drove home from work
and autumn meant the first day of school
and the air was summer fine
but coming to an end

and autumn meant the first day of school
saddle shoes and leather coats
but coming to an end
the lark of street play turned to troops

saddle shoes and leather coats
assembled on the street
the lark of street play turned to troops
as the milkman made his morning round 

assembled on the street
the gangly boys and pretty girls and little ones
as the milkman made his morning round
a rag-tag troop in defile on their way to school

the gangly boys and pretty girls and little ones
scrubbed and polished by stay-at-home moms
a rag-tag troop in defile on their way to school
walking up the street in ones and twos 

scrubbed and polished by stay-at-home moms
carrying sharpened pencils and baseball mitts
walking up the street in ones and twos
and unspoken hope and surety 

carrying sharpened pencils and baseball mitts
notebooks clasped to budding breasts
and unspoken hope and surety
and still the air was fine

notebooks clasped to budding breasts
white painted rocks edging the lawns
and still the air was fine
our street, the best street.

25/01/2012
by jim
textId=82779 
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No more writer's block!*Yay! & Voilá!*Originally inspired by the new law
promising internet users the "right to be forgotten" as proposed by the European Commission today.

Forget me not The right to be forgotten
 

I find what is meaningless to me fascinating
Alas, my never-ending infatuation for the unknown
Thus out of nowhere I give it a meaning
Inside my easily forgotten shriveled innocence 

Alas! My never-ending infatuation for the unknown
Leads me far and beyond 
Inside my easily forgotten shriveled innocence 
But what I store inside me what appeases me

Is not knowledge it is not memories
What I met when I was who I felt I was is not what is
What exists inside me is : Who I keep becoming
I only remember that I have the right to be forgotten

What I met when I was who I felt I was is not what is
Forget me not oh how dearly I hold you in my heart
I only remember that I have the right to be forgotten
To me fascinating is what I keep finding meaningless

Authors note: Forget not
what it means to treat each other 
with newborn awe ~¤ ~

25/01/2012
by night soul woman
textId=82800 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My FIRST time writing this poetry style,
lamenting the decline of basic manners & decency
that there use to be.

Tolling Slow/Old Days Of Yore

Do people really not anymore care,
what has happened to the world today?
strangers will punch you if they THINK at them you stare,
I miss the days when neighbours had only nice things to say.

WHAT, has happened, to the world today?
too easy to not help strangers, just ignore a fight,
I miss the days, when, neighbours had only nice things to say,
is it really a case of close the mind to equal out of sight?

Too easy, to NOT help, strangers just ignore a fight,
"Best not to get involved mate, Could get hurt"
Is it REALLY a case, of close the mind, to equal out of sight?
WHY is to do the decent thing a task to shirk?

"Best not to get involved mate - Could get hurt."
tolling slow is the bell for manners, respect, the death kneel, 
Why is, to do the DECENT thing, a task to shirk?
For how selfish the world's becoming sad is how I feel.

Tolling slow, is the bell, for manners, respect, the death kneel?
Remember when people were not RUDE in a shop's store,
For how selfish, the world's becoming, sad, is how I feel
Oh how I miss the old ways of yore.

Oh, HOW I miss, the old days of yore,
I am sure the current world is just weathering a temporary storm,
Remember, when people WERE NOT rude, in a shop's store;
and RESPECTING your Elders, helping strangers, was the norm?

25/01/2012
by Liz Munro
textId=82801      
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What could be better than the aroma of a room filled with baking?
Well maybe a couple of things but it's pretty great!

Cinnamon and Nutmeg

Cinnamon and Nutmeg
a swirl of baked confection
a culinary drifting cloud
that floats in my direction

A swirl of baked confection
like wishes from a fire
that floats in my direction
a genie's bottle of desire 

Like wishes from a fire
rise magical aromas
a genie's bottle of desire
Cinnamon and Nutmeg

25/01/2012
by Hans Bump
textId=82805 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Ghost Writer

It would truly take a miracle 
I’m paralyzed with fear
to have a chance of winning 
I’d have to hire Shakespeare

I’m paralyzed with fear
at this challenging decree
I’d have to hire Shakespeare
It would truly take a miracle

25/01/2012
by Hans Bump
textId=82808  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This took me around 10 minutes to complete, hope you like it!This is my first time in writing in this style which is why it's not that long, I didn't want to over do it!

I am not what I am.
 

I am not what I am,
I hear myself want to scream,
I need to let them know, 
This is nothing but a dream,

I hear myself want to scream,
I don’t know how much I can bare,
This is nothing but a dream,
I am not what I am.

25/01/2012
by  Melissa Ormond
textId=82818 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I realised this piece doesn't rhyme, good excuse to have another go.

Optimism,

May I rise above negativity
swell with optimism
ride the tide 
race to shore

Swell with optimism
be a sunny day
race to shore
kiss the sand

Be a sunny day
warm slow and strong
kiss the sand
may I rise above negativity

26/01/2012
by  shells
textId=82834 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss.
Wallace Stevens, “Sunday Morning”

Bedroom Eyes

She feels him undressing her with his eyes
As she combs and brushes her loosened hair,
Lays down the silvered mirror and shivers,
He aroused, thinking of her desire for him.

As she combs and brushes her loosened hair
It is the other he she recalls and the passion  
He aroused, thinking of her desire for him,
Need she's never known with the waiting he.

It is the other he she recalls and the passion
As she is pulled to the bed in the embrace of
Need she's never known with the waiting he,
The longing he'll never see in her bedroom eyes,

As she is pulled to the bed in the embrace of
The other in her mind who makes love and takes
The longing he'll never see in her bedroom eyes.
She thinks of him now as the one who waits.

The other in her mind who makes love and takes
Her away from all that she can barely endure,
She thinks of him now as the one who waits
For her to choose between her life and her love.

She feels him undressing her with his eyes.

27/01/2012
By countryfog
textId=82840
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My SECOND attempt at this poetry style,
have NO IDEA it's meaning, was listening
to Pink Floyd's Brain Damage/Eclipse.

~L.~ 

How Quaint The Noise Of Quiet
 

Oh, how quaint the noise of quiet
Echoing silence of voices in my head
breaking the tedious stress of melancholy 
Drowning waves of crushed white noise.

Echoing silence; of voices in my head,
Stresses cowering like beaten dog in a kennel,
Drowning waves, of crushed, white noise,
How nice, would be, a break with Relaxation.

Stresses, COWERING, like beaten dog in a kennel
Howling quiet sobs at it's woeful misfortune
How nice would be a break with Relaxation
Oh how quaint the noise of quiet.

27/01/2012
by Liz Munro
textId=82842 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here is my contribution to the "Pantoum Challenge". Hope you like it.

Regret
 

In the silence
There resides regret
A constant companion
It hovers like a ghost

There resides regret
In the tears of the lost
It hovers like a ghost
Always unspoken

In the tears of the lost
Love is hidden
Always unspoken
In the soft humming of the stars

Love is hidden
On the lines of this poem
In the soft humming of the stars
Where you cannot reach

Regret flows through your veins
A constant companion
It slowly bleeds you dry
In the silence

28/01/2012
by Nathalia
textId=82865 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took my favourite poems that I have written,
Journey & Continuing My Journey, & turned it into a Pantoum.

~L.~

Journeys
 

 My eyes are shinning so bright and clear
nothing negative is gonna get in my way
I have started a journey amazed I follow and watch it unfold
I am feeling so focused and calm today.

Nothing NEGATIVE, is gonna get in my way,
only I can hold myself back
I am feeling so focused and calm, today,
Fighting back am I, the tide of black.


Only I, can HOLD myself back
don't fight swim with the flow
fighting back am I the tide of black
just breathe slow and let it all go.

Don't fight - SWIM with the flow,
It feels like all of my dreams, close to coming true, are near,
just breathe, slow, and let it all go,
my eyes are SHINNING! So bright and clear.

28/01/2012
by Liz Munro
textId=82871 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As you know, the editors have challenged us to submit poetry written in 
the Pantoum format. So many have responded that I thought this poem might be particularly topical and culturally relevant to the poetbay community

Pantoum craze is goin' round 
 

Pantoum craze is goin' round
the writers all are eager
to turn tradition on its head
in flash mob poet fever

The writers all are eager
submissions are stampeding
in flash mob poet fever
they've got the readers reading

Submissions are stampeding
an avalanche of verbs and nouns
they've got the readers reading
Pantoum craze is goin' round

28/01/2012
by Hans Bump
textId=82876 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are very lucky with how good
Our son James(10 months)is esp night sleeping
But he does have his moments

~L.~

A perfect joyful pain

A joyful pain
Of sleeplessness and smiles
Laughter tears & games
You push boundaries extra miles.

Of sleeplessness and smiles
Learning to crawl
You push boundaries extra miles
We hug the tears away whenever you fall.

Learning to crawl
A perfect baby with trying moments
We hug the tears away whenever you fall
A joyful pain.

29/01/2012
by Liz Munro
textId=82886 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A fun co-write to do

~l.~

Precipitating Purple Bruises
 

It's precipitating purple bruises
cascading rain of liquid tears
thunder whispering like a lover
Comfort brought by the closeness of fears

cascading rain of liquid tears
descends upon a weary mind
Comfort brought by the closeness of fears
In that darkness a heart you find

Descends upon, a weary mind,
confusing dark of a sucking black hole,
in that darkness; a heart you find,
that'll rest the troubles of your soul

confusing dark of a sucking black hole
Is not a self-preservative place to hide
in that darkness; a heart you find
That holds the key past this dark divide

Is not a self-preservative place to hide;
the probing flash of lightening strikes,
That holds the key past this dark divide,
It's precipitating purple bruises.

01/02/2012
by cr4ky & Liz Munro
textId=82970 14
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I told my sister about the pantoum challenge. Never one to back off a challenge she jumped in. She writes essays, this is her poetic debut. Comments welcome!

My Sister's Pantoums (literally)

A Letter

I thought the matter over
And concluded I could do it
So I went down and got the letter
The envelope slightly yellowed

And concluded I could do it
The postmark - 1969
The envelope slightly yellowed
The Age of Aquarius

The postmark – 1969
A road not taken
The Age of Aquarius
Familiar handwriting evocative

A road not taken
Dare I tread where I hadn’t?
Familiar handwriting evocative
Envelope still sealed

Dare I tread where I hadn’t?
Racing heart and shaking hands suggest not
Envelope still sealed
All these years and decades

Racing heart and shaking hands suggest not
Return the letter to its silver box
All these years and decades
Secretly cosseted

Return the letter to its silver box
Don’t let Pandora out
Secretly cosseted
Throw away the key

Don’t let Pandora out
The envelope slightly yellowed
Throw away the key
I thought the matter over

———

Red Shoes

I thought the matter over
And concluded I could do it
So I went down and bought
A pair of four inch high heels

And concluded that I could do it
Red, no less
A pair of four inch high heels
Sexy

Red, no less
I would master them
Sexy
A new persona

I would master them
Ignore the pain
A new persona
The podiatrist’s bread and butter

Ignore the pain
Stunning
The podiatrist’s bread and butter
I teetered and winced

Stunning
Luring - alluring
I teetered and winced
Now stowed away

Luring - alluring
They brighten my closet landscape
Now stowed away
Shiny, red and sexy

They brighten my closet landscape
A pair of four inch high heels
Shiny, red and sexy
I thought the matter over

———

Night

Sitting in the dark, on my deck – content
The only light coming from a mango moon
Cocooned in stillness
Spinning silk threads into what my life might be

The only light coming from a mango moon
Alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my imaginings
Spinning silk threads into what my life might be
Safe in the comfort of my solitude

Alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my imaginings
Darkness and quiet are blankets that protect me
Safe in the comfort of my solitude
I can paint a self-portrait using any colors I choose

Darkness and quiet are blankets that protect me
They allow me to be brave
I can paint a self-portrait using any colors I choose
The reality of daybreak threatens

They allow me to be brave
Last night I decided not to be afraid of today
The reality of daybreak threatens
Today I am not afraid

Last night I decided not to be afraid of today
Spinning silk threads into what my life might be
Today I am not afraid
Sitting in the dark, on my deck - content

01/02/2012
by Jim’s sister
textId=82979
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Thank you Melissa for wanting to write this one with me, thank you for the inspiration, this writing experience!

Polymorphic code & Self Replication

If a boy makes you wanna have puppies with him
It's ok you can jump on him!
Don’t sneeze like the horse when you meet
Speak wholeheartedly, he inspired you to write a hymn!

It’s ok you can jump on him
The lady said to me
Don’t sneexe like the horse when you meet
Let the race begin!

Ah you found the 'broken telephone', I see . . .
The lady smiled as she scratched her cheek 
Although horse riding might be enticing 
You didn't care about the genuine connection, the critique 

The lady smiled as she scratched her cheek . . .
Don’t  you know that you materialized his perfect beauty within
You didn't care about the genuine connection, the critique
None of us ever does until we close our eyes & feel, -  what is left of us

when we are alone, alone with the beast of knowledge
and the silent darkness, our own vulnerability
Why be among those in the know
or else be left alone?

. . . and the silent darkness, our own vulnerability
beckons us to . . .  
or else be left alone
or else be left alone

The monstrosity I see within, when I’m left alone
Not wanting to live like your like, on my own
But would you or I really jump  at the chance –
If a boy made us wanna’ have puppies with him?

02/02/2012
by Melissa Ormond & night soul woman
textId=83056 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pantoum Contest Entry
 

This isn't how I thought we would proceed.
I saw us raising glasses to the dawn,
But you, so damaged, soon revealed such need
My love was overwhelmed. Now it is gone.

I saw us raising glasses to the dawn,
But darkness never seems to go away.
My love was overwhelmed. Now it is gone,
I'd also be, if something lit my way,

But darkness never seems to go away.
You're shaking in a corner in our room
I'd also be, if something lit my way
Instead, I sit alone and face the gloom.

You're shaking in a corner in our room,
A parasite. On me you hope to feed.
Instead, I sit alone and face the gloom
This isn't how I thought we would proceed.

05/02/2012
by  Lawrence Beck
textId=83144 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Sentinel
 

On misted hills this sentinel stands

Guarding all that lies before

Each hedge, each stream, and fallow lands

With an attention that cannot ignore

Guarding all that lies before

Foothills would lend a protective shade

Against the ravaging wind and hoar

Sleeping saplings in a forest glade

Foothills would lend a protective shade

Whilst our sentinel stands its ground

Deference to the wind is paid

A feeling of strength, so profound

Whilst our sentinel stands its ground

There is peace in the valley, and mind

And then in the glare of a summers day

In its shade our protection we find

08/02/2012
by Liam CB
textId=83197
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We each wrote separate alternating pieces that built on the other and linked them to form an experimental,abstract,pantoum collage We did not edit,so in a sense it created itself.

liquid Tears purple Bruises/whispers Never felt so Loud

Chained to a cult of expectation
cascading rain of liquid tears
wrapped in passion's silent cover
comfort brought by the closeness of fears.

Cascading rain of liquid tears;
It's precipitating purple bruises,
comfort brought by the closeness of fears
thunder whispers it like a lover.

It's precipitating! Purple bruises;
an angry welt of mad sky,
THUNDER! Whispers it like a lover
it's noisy touch reaching from an ecstatic high.

An angry welt of mad sky,
slashed across the damaged clouds
it's noisy touch reaching from an ecstatic high
whispers never felt so loud.

Slashed! Across the damaged clouds
society "values" are mirrored, 
Whispers never felt so loud
Chained to a cult of expectation.

11/02/2012
by Hans Bump & Liz Munro 
textId=83244 17
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❀