Poetry for Today

today, like every day
it’s time for a new poem
at listen & be heard poetry cafe
a poem for the poem of the day

poetry that speaks to you
about where you come from
where you yearn to go
growing pains of the heart
Continue reading “Poetry for Today”

Fruits and Radicals

Green Bell Pepper in the Garden, by Martha Cinader Mims, for the Poem of the Day. copyright 2008 all rights reserved.

a non-peppery pepper
that’s not really a pepper
a misleading misnomer
of columbus courting the queen’s Continue reading “Fruits and Radicals”

fresh bread

still warm
and steamy
with butter
with honey
with grape jelly
with cheese Continue reading “fresh bread”

ode to insurance companies

oh the vanity
of those of us
who think we can hold on Continue reading “ode to insurance companies”

Memory and Perception

what i remember

is my perception
of what was
happening
and what happened
before what was
happening
and what happened Continue reading “Memory and Perception”

A Mother of a Day

is a Different thing
from Mother’s Day.
The Name
“Mother” of a Day
speaks for itself too Continue reading “A Mother of a Day”

Once Upon a Time

There was a woman who dared to speak truth in the face of death. The truth as she knew it. For she knew that she did not, could not know Truth entirely.

In fact she knew that even two seemingly contradictory stories could both be true to the tellers of each side, and both could even be absolutely true.

The Absolute covers Everything. She knew that too. So the Absolute Truth must be the sum and total of every truth. There’s even a bit of truth in the best lies.

She didn’t know all this because she held a degree for knowing the truth. She had heard every story. She had been told every lie and she believed.

She listened to each story and cried and laughed and shouted at each twist and turn in the plot as if each story were her own unfolding drama.

She believed each lie until she steadfastly uncovered each truth. Even though she did not think that she had set out on a journey to find truth.

It became her destiny to seek out the Truth that lies waiting. She claimed every story, every lie and all that she witnessed with her eyes.

She hoarded each like a gem, gathered all together in a treasure chest of the human heart. Her art to rearrange, retell and tell

the Truth in a made up story. Made up of tough stuff, reality that bites with an appetite for feeding
the need of the present moment.

The present need always being the same, no matter what the current truth, the need for action, creation, telling your part of The Story.

Please join me at the cafe this Saturday, February 16, 2008 from 2:30-4pm,
for a storytelling circle for people of all ages. Tell a story, or just listen.

Wishing you Peace and Poetry
martha cinader mims


Strike Writers

Used to be the poet
was the clown
got struck down
when the king’s laugh
turned to a frown
on truth masked in
rhythm, rhyme
and hints of the sublime.

Now everyone wants
a piece of the action
automated reaction
in post hallucinogenic
times the rhymes
come via Madison Avenue
reworked to push your panic button
encourage your inner glutton.

Your future is what you write
to defend with your life the right
to be who you are and say
what needs to be said
when it needs saying
paying the price
for being a poet
knowing it in a place

where there is no money
but truth is sweet like honey.

SAVE $40 – Logitech Cordless Laser Notebook Mouse $39.99 (US)

The White Spider Leaps

All for One

One thing I’ve
learned with just
a little
hindsight, is
that talk is
cheaper than
spit. There are
plenty of
people who
talk good game
but when it’s
time to walk
their feet get
sore or they
get hungry
for easy
pickings or
they wait
for someone
else to cross
over to the
other side
first to test
the waters.

The water
is not safe.
There are no
boueys with
authorized
signs unless
you hear bird
calls at dusk,
but you still
have to cross.

The other
side is where
your actions
speak volumes.
Words don’t count.
You want fame
you want what
is fleeting
riches, sex
power to
control the
people who
you don’t like
and you will
have what you
want and that
will be all.
One person
surrounded
desired by
others who
may just want
what you have.
Given the
chance they might
let you drown.

One to me
is not one
without You.
A dinner
unshared
nourishes
me less.
So please climb
on to our
little raft
rest easy
for awhile
eat with us
the good food
between these
pages, and
lines, and taste
not only
potatoes
but freedom
simmering
in summer
breezes.

Please do use
what you can
to connect
with your past
your neighbor
your inner
voice that says
all for One.
What’s good for
One is good
for me too.
Seeing you
is seeing
me see you
see me see
you see me
seeing we
ancestry
history
see that One
is really
Everyone
or no one.
One is you
and your great
great grandma
and grandpa
too and those
you never
even knew
existed
and people
you pass who
you never
do talk to.

Between these
pages lie
treasures, maps
to riches
and wonders.
It’s up to
just one You
to explore
navigate
contribute
give back to
and support
what is One.

Wishing each
of you Peace
Poetry
and Freedom
in Oneness.