Books by Phyllis Jean Green
I was reading about slam poetry when this
happened. Best way I can describe it.
Thank you for all the great support.
Listen to Your Muse, Then get up an' do Your Thing
Slam it to us!
Light us up!!
Make us feel what cannot be felt
and see what cannot be seen
Dreaming, awake, or in terror.
Pry our eyes open and make us look
at every speck, blade, and leaf.
Turn nature inside out,
then take us by the hand,
and run our fingers over
Take fallen feathers
and show us how to use them
to catch dreams.
Take all the rainbows you can find
and scale the colors until they sing.
Make harpstrings of our hair
and drums out of our feet.
Melt the gold you have found
at the ends of the rainbows
and mix it with light from sun,
moon, and stars until it shines
so bright it hurts.
Take us with you back to being
a child, sense of smell keen
as a bloodhound’s, instinct
untrammeled. No rust or dings,
but every object, every moment,
new as first light.
Ease the beast called pain
by keeping us company as we walk over
coals and weep over graves.
Make a safehouse of your little store
of words, then put it out over the grapevine
that the faux rock where you have hidden
the key opens like that for the kind.
That there are pictures inside.
That you have lighted them
(c) Phyllis Jean Green, 2013
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|Reviewed by Nordette Adams
|It's great to read you again, Phyllis.|
|Reviewed by Emile Tubiana
|Dear Phyllis this is my first visit to your den. I discover that we have a lot in common. Thank you for sharing. Love Emile|
|Reviewed by Sheila Roy
|All the knicks and dings make us who we are, yet they color our perspective one way or another. That's the voice that others value and hear. Love how you opened this piece with so much conviction, too. Reminds me of something I like to say: Write what's in you to write.|
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
|I miss your words ... hope you're okay.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Barbara Terry
|This reminds me of Form! Form! And More Form, that I wrote a few years back. I quite agree that this is how poetry, even novels, should be. Tell us a story that is so slamming it makes us cry, laugh or frown or maybe all three in the same stanza. Yes, "Slam it to us, Light us up!" Thank you for sharing, Pea.
Lover & hugs,
|Reviewed by Karen Springer
|Such beautiful words and energy running through this poem bespeaks an urgency to get out there and experience all that life has to offer but to savor Earth's gifts as they are meant to be. Excellent piece!|
|Reviewed by Carmen Ruggero
|We can spend so much trying to say it right and end up saying nothing at all. You just spelled out the formula: let it out, poets! One thing I've always admired about your writing is that you don't hold back.
|Reviewed by Vivian Dawson
|Out of hiding..all spiced up..
for our many journeys..YOU,
our dear..have spelled it out
|Reviewed by Dark Knight
|i did...and posted ...Just one Kiss....LOL-good poem you wrote--always a pleasure to read your works|
|Reviewed by William Bonilla
peace & love be with you
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|There is so much to take in within what your verses express here. There is so much that I can relate to. Thank you, Phyllis. Love and best wishes to you,
|Reviewed by Lily of Lough Neagh C. Dennis-Woosley
|Bringing it all together wonderfully to be displayed
for all to enjoy...
Love and Light
|Reviewed by Muhammad Al Mahdi
|Yes, that's it! That's what all writing, painting, music is about: the timeless path to vision, beholding, silent and ecstatic, of the beyond which is the within.|
|Reviewed by RWE SAYS BYE
|Phyllis, you have penned a precious poem here! Love the unexpected find, so rare and refined,that teases us out of thought to puzzle and to remind us of a childhood that lives on in our forever world where we always will be young sans care, sans cruelty, sans cunning, sans dualism, sans corruption, sans vanity, sans so many other sins...
Show me where to find that faux rock!! Won't you? Wait a minute, Phyllis, this poem is the treasure map that leads reader's to it, isn't that right?
Purely marvelous poetry, Phyllis.