1 Minute with The Bald-Headed Poet

Surviving, By Amanda Gorman

These words need not be red for our blood to run 
through them.
When tragedy threatens to end us, we are flooded 
by what is felt;
Our faces fluctuating, warped like an acre passing 
Seasons. Perhaps the years are plotted & planned
Just like seeds in a fresh-plowed field.
When we dream, we act only with instinct.
We might not be fully sure of all that we are. 
& yet we have endured all that we were...

Revised Version of, Do not go gentle into that good night. By: Dylan Thomas

Please go gentle into that good night,
Old age shouldn’t burn and rave at close of day;
Don’t rage, why rage against the dying of the light?
 
 Wise men at their end look forward to that heavenly light,
Their lives will no longer be filled with pain and strife,
They will go gentle into that good night...

When the Year Grows Old, By Edna St. Vincent Millay

I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
October—November—
How she disliked the cold!
She used to watch the swallows
Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
With a little sharp sigh...

I walked down Melbourne Street
to hear the bands play ghoulish melodies.
Someone yelled, "I've witnessed a murder."
I saw him lurking around the corner,
and instantly noticed his sideburns.
His cape was black and wrinkled and 
blood was on his T-Shirt.
People ran to see the crime scene,
but the man disappeared.
They found body parts in a brazier.
It smelled liked beans and barbecue ribs...

Trees, By Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear 
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree...

Prose and Cons Talk: A Plea to Steve Harvey

Emmy® Award-winning entertainer, radio personality, motivational speaker, New York Times best-selling author, businessman, and philanthropist.  From a young age Steve Harvey knew that he wanted to be on TV. He held fast to his dream, against all odds for a stuttering African American boy in the 1960s. His unrelenting pursuit formed one of Harvey’s life philosophies: “You have to dream big and believe that you will succeed...

A Red, Red Rose, By Robert Burns 

O my Luve is like a red, red rose 
That’s newly sprung in June; 
O my Luve is like the melody  
That’s sweetly played in tune. 

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 
So deep in luve am I; 
And I will luve thee still, my dear, 
Till a’ the seas gang dry. 

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, 
 And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; 
I will love thee still, my dear, 
While the sands o’ life shall run...

See It Through, By Edgar Albert Guest

When you’re up against a trouble, 
Meet it squarely, face to face; 
Lift your chin and set your shoulders, 
Plant your feet and take a brace...

The Original Scrub Daddy is made from a unique material called FlexTexture® made of a polymer which changes texture – firm in cold water and soft in warm water. 

Poems are green and Poetry is mean.
-Poetry Beast

Please accept my endless gratitude,
I'm tickled pink,
You're a gift!
Thank you for your time and attention.
It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen...

 The Road Not Taken, By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally...