Showing posts with label Poetry by Members. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry by Members. Show all posts

Monday, May 30, 2016

Fridge Poetry by Charles Moffat

By Charles Moffat

Way too easy to make fridge magnet poetry. But they are surprisingly funny at times.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Killer Economy

We live in an era of fascist capitalism
Stock brokers with killer instincts
Politicians in on the grand Ponzi Scheme
Wars for oil, consumption and waste
An indebted populace enslaved
Capitalists running amok looking for the bottom line
The problem is when people can't pay their debts
They start reneging on their loans and mortgages
And then the economy falls apart
This is a model that can't stand the test of time
We can try and extort wealth from other nations
But wars are expensive and its only profitable on paper
In reality we lose way more in practice
The politicians keep saying wealth will trickle down
But such a hoax will never happen
The system is set up so the rich get richer
The poor get poorer, and the middle class dwindles
Eventually all that will remain is the rich and the poor
The poor will try to rise up, but the police will beat them down
Oh wait, this is already happening
You would have to be blind not to see it
Our materialism has become our own downfall
And death has become a vital part of our economy

Charles Moffat's poetry is also available on Kobo: a dream of unfettered roses

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

White Christmas (Global Warming Version)

White Christmas (Global Warming Version)

By Charles Moffat, December 2014

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas
Just like the ones we used to know
When the treetops glistened
and governments listened
Back when we used to have snow.

They're scheming of a profitable Christmas
When every politician sounds trite
They give you an economic fright
And most of the CEOs are white.

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas
Before the droughts brought the blight
May your kids live to see the light
And learn from our lack of foresight

I'm steaming at the green Christmas
As the earth goes down the latrine
When everyone is so greedy its obscene
And now all our Christmases are green.

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas
Back when leaders were more forthright
And now they're all full of shite.
And now all our Christmases aren't white.

Charles Moffat's poetry is also available on Kobo: a dream of unfettered roses

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath

Herein lies Sylvia Plath's Guide
To becoming a Famous Poet via Suicide

Step one, marry a male poet who is already successful
His success continues to grow and he makes sales by the bucketful

You and he argue constantly about his success and fame
And meanwhile you've stopped writing, so where is your claim?

Finally he leaves you and you are all alone with your thinking
You publish a book while your husband is out partying and drinking

Your book is selling, you are the belle of the ball
And then one day you decide to end it all

You sealed the doors with wet towels and stuck your head in the oven
They found you dead, thirty years old...

A beautiful poet with everything to live for...
They publish your book posthumously, but what was the point?

Oh yes, fame. Some things are not worth dying for.

February 2012,

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Gossamer Lies

Gossamer Lies
Years ago on one fatal october 
A doctor commited suicide 
With an injection to his arm 
He broke my friend 
Messed up her mind 
She is lost now 
On a sea of guilt 
Haunted by fear and hatred 
She waits 
She waits 
Nothing happens 
She doesn't want to be hurt 
But her vices hold her 
They control her 
She is trapped 
In a cage of her own making 
With only her father to blame
See more at

Monday, March 31, 2014

The Voyages of Orion

The Voyages of Orion

By Charles Moffat - March 2014

Zeus, Poseidon and Hades went to visit an old hermit and a great hunter.
The hermit was Hyrieus of Tanagra, and when they arrived they were struck by hunger.
Seeing it was a cold night Hyrieus butchered a whole bull.
He then cooked it olives and served it until the gods were full.

Each god was pleased and asked Hyrieus what was his desire.
A lonely hermit am I, he said. The only wish I have is a son to share my fire.
So the three gods placed their seed upon the bull's hide.
They bade him bury it and to return in ten months during high tide.

Hyrieus did as he was told and returned to find a boy as giant as can be.
Orion the Earth Born he was called and he was as tall as a tree.
He grew up fast too, long before Hyrieus died of old age.
Having such a big son proved a great boon to the ancient sage.

Orion loved to hunt and to fish, he excelled at everything his father taught him.
He could run, he could fight, he could string great bows and he could swim.
So tall was he did not really need to swim, he could wade through deep water up to his neck.
No ship could hold Orion, he would just break it and crash through its flimsy deck.

Although handsome, the most handsome of all Earth Born, Orion was lonely.
Many people feared his great size and although kind, he was often solitary.
So he prayed to Artemis and sacrificed a bear, asking for a fine hunting companion.
The goddess smiled upon him and sent Sirius, a small dog full of brawn.

Together Orion and Sirius traveled wide and far, hunting together, giant and dog.
They hunted ferocious lions, noble stags, huge krakens and dangerous warthogs.
Sirius was Orion's fearless companions, never afraid of even the largest monsters.
When walking through the seas Orion carried Sirius on his huge shoulders.

On one such voyage Orion walked to the peaceful island of Chios, home of Oenopion.
There he drank with the locals, drinking as much wine as could be found in the Aegean.
While thus besotted he spotted Merope, a beautiful young maiden with hair so fair.
But he forgot his size and in his haste attacked her while she was unaware.

Oenopion saw the great giant trying to rape his daughter and drew his sword.
Giant or no giant, Oenopion drove his sword into Orion's eyes and tied him with strong cord.
Sirius's barking alerted Orion to his danger and he burst from his bindings and fled.
Into the see he stumbled, the great giant's eyes streaming blood red.

Blinded Orion fled across the sea and lost himself in the waves.
Unsure of his direction he went east, the sun on his face until he reached caves.
There on the Isle of Lemnos he met Hephaestus, the Great Smith.
Malformed, Hephaestus knew loneliness and sorrow, so he bade Cedalion go with.

With Cedalion on one shoulder and Sirius on the other, the trio journeyed East.
They passed on their way mountains and seas and many a great beast.
Until at last they passed beyond the Earth to the abode of the Sun.
Here the god Helios healed Orion and the giant hooted, hollered and went into a run.

With Cedalion and Sirius he ran across the waves, returning to the Isle of Lemnos.
From there he continued his journey, back to seek vengeance on the island of Chios.
Oenopion saw the giant returning and decided to hide deep in the earth.
There he beseeched Mother Earth, asking her to take back what she had given birth.

She took pity on the poor man and sent a lowly scorpion to sting Orion.
Many beast Orion had killed, everything from kraken to hydra and lion.
He didn't even see the scorpion beneath his great bulk, but Sirius did.
The dog barked and barked frantically, but Orion could not see it under the rocks it hid.

When the scorpion struck Orion was confused at first. He could not see any foe.
Although he could see he was blinded by his own size. He stumbled to and fro.
When he struck the ground, his head landed sideways and he saw at last the creature.
"Fie you monster! I thought I had bested every beast, but lo you are a fine teacher!"

And so Orion died and Sirius howled in his sadness. Howled hard and long.
Artemis heard the dog's cries and asked Zeus where such a loyal dog should belong.
So Zeus raised Orion up to the heavens and placed Sirius there beside him.
But he also raised up the scorpion, as a warning to those who act on a drunken whim.


Charles Moffat's poetry is also available on Kobo: a dream of unfettered roses

Friday, February 28, 2014

Rama and Sita

Rama and Sita

Based on "The Ramayana" of Valmiki, re-envisioned by Charles Moffat, Jan.-Feb. 2012. 

So sayeth Valmiki...

In Ancient India, in times of old
In the land of Aydohya, lived Rama the Bold
Rama was the perfect son, living by the rules of Dharma
Ever dutiful and responsible, he was blessed with good Karma

Prince Rama was the oldest, but his stepmother was a schemer
She sought for her son Bharata, wanting him to be the next leader
Having saved the king from illness, she sought out the king for a favour
Anything sayeth the king, not knowing the price of her desire

"I wish for you to banish Rama, make Bharata your heir."
Nothing could have wounded the king more, for Rama was most fair
Bound by his word the King obeyed, disliking his wife's demand
Rama heard his father's edict, "I gladly obey father's command."

Rama was married to Sita, whose purity was like a lotus blossom
Sita begged to go with Rama, their two hearts beating like one drum
"As shadow to substance, so is wife to husband."
"Let me walk ahead of you, clear your passage through the land."

Rama agreed to his wife's request, taking her deep into the forest
His brother Lakshmana went too, making Rama's flight his quest
Bharata sought to deny the throne, forsaking his mother's grace
He placed Rama's sandals on the seat, acting as regent in Rama's place

Deep in the forests lived monks, but they were plagued by Rakshasa monsters
Rama's arrows were true, his aim was unsurpassed amongst archers
Wherever Rama went the demons died in hordes
His bow string hummed like a sitar with its chords

To the south on the island of Lanka was the demon king Ravana
An incredible wise man Ravana's ten heads was a match for Rama
He spied Sita and seized her while Rama was chasing a deer
Taking her back to Lanka Ravana had no worries or fear

Across the sea Ravana fled, Sita over his shoulder
Sita wept for Rama but was wiser than her kidnapper
From her arms and neck she dropped her bracelets and jewelry
Sayeth Sita: "Take me back to Rama, stop this foolery!"

Sayeth Ravana: "Sita, I will make you my wife."
"You will come to me willingly and I shall spare your life."
Sayeth Sita: "I love only Rama. I cannot love another."
"I belong to Rama like the ground belongs to the earth mother."

Sayeth Ravana: "Nonsense, what does Rama have that I do not?"
"I will have you for my wife Sita as surely as the sun is hot!"
Sayeth Sita: "Rama is powerful, you would be foolish not to run!"
"I belong to Rama like the rays belongs to the sun!"

In the forest Rama met the monkey king Hanuman
Together they searched for Sita and came up with a plan
Hanuman found Sita's jewelry on the shores of the sea
Across the water lay the island of Lanka and he knew where Sita must be

Hanuman went to Lanka and saw Sita in the garden
She had gracefully refused to enter Ravana's home or den
Ravana did not force her, he left her alone to her prayers
Hanuman went to her and tried to soothe her tears

Sayeth Hanuman: "Never fear dear Sita, Hanuman is here."
"Come with me back to Rama and we shall disappear!"
Sayeth Sita: "Ravana's demons are many, even now they come."
"You must run Hanuman, don't you hear their drum?!"

The Rakshasa demons seized Hanuman and set fire to his tail
But Hanuman leapt away, jumping on the palace wall and leaving a fiery trail
The Rakshasa demons chased him but Hanuman left only ruins in his wake
Ravana's palace was burned down and he swore at his demons for their mistake

Hanuman returned to Rama and told him where Sita was held
He told Rama everything he saw, touched and smelled
Rama called upon Hanuman to raise the monkey warriors
Hanuman did as he was bid, by the tens of scores

Rama and his monkey army built a causeway to Lanka
They toiled day and night to reach the island and Sita
When they arrived the monkeys slew all the Rakshasa demons
Rama himself slew Ravana and all of his sons

Sita wept with love, proud that her husband was so bold
But when he came near her he began acting cold
Sita professed her love and thanking him for his actions
She knew in her heart she would bear Rama's sons

Sayeth Rama: "You have stayed in another man's house."
"I have done my duty to rescue you but I cannot be your spouse."
Sayeth Sita: "If I had known this would happen I would have killed myself."
"Build me a funeral pyre so you may see my purity yourself."

Rama and Hanuman built a funeral pyre as they were commanded
Sita walked amongst the flames untouched, true to her marriage bed
Rama forgave her, his love and loyalty for her renewed
They flew back to Ayodhya in a Pushpaka with the end of their feud

Rama was crowned king, the happy couple began their reign
Everything was joyous again but Rama overheard one man complain
Sayeth the man to his wife: "Do you think I am like Rama?"
"You have slept with another man, I don't need your lies or drama."

Sayeth Sita: "Husband I have really great news."
"Our bed has been fruitful, someday your sons will fill your shoes."
Sayeth Rama: "I cannot keep you my dearest."
"My people don't respect me even though you passed the test."

Rama sent Sita away, craving the respect of his people
Sita went obediently, residing instead in a temple
She met there the poet Valmiki and told him her story
Her tale told of Rama in all his greatness and glory

Sita gave birth to two sons with eyes like Rama's
But Sita was still sad, remembering everything that once was
Valmiki helped to raise the two boys, teaching them songs of trust
"Rama is great, Rama is just, Rama does what Rama must."

One day Rama went for a stroll and heard the two boys singing
"My sons!" sayeth Rama. "You must come live in Ayodhya with your king."
But then Rama noticed Sita and realized she must come too
"Perhaps a trial by water, such a trick should not be too difficult for you."

Sayeth Sita: "I will prove my love to you dearest Rama."
"If I have always been true to you, from Lanka to Ayodhya."
"If I have always been the perfect bride to the perfect groom."
"Then may mother earth please take me back into her womb."


Charles Moffat's poetry is also available on Kobo: a dream of unfettered roses

Remembering Rebecca

Rebecca was a most loving companion. She was sweet, brave, made me smile and laugh - most of all
her love was pure. Here's a poem that I have written to her, for her and for myself to remember all
the many endearing things she did. She brought great joy to my life.

Love Gail

Remembering Rebecca

(June 20, 2002 - February 3, 2014)

At seven weeks we meet.
You a moppet -
all white save a slate grey nose,
shining blue sapphire eyes
smallest, shyest of your litter mates
Timid, you crouch beneath the coffee table.

At ten weeks, I see
a fluffy feline batting at a feather toy
coming into your own now.

At fourteen weeks, it’s Thanksgiving
I ‘m already grateful for you little Birman girl
despite meowing the entire trip
from Barrie to the Bluffs
You hate car rides.
Home at last, I set you down
You circle round my living room,
bound into my lap, curling up
“I’ll stay you say,” in kitten body language.

We develop rituals.
Mornings, you greet me,
leap onto the window ledge
lounge as I shower.
When your grow older, you wait on the cotton bath mat
I step gingerly round you
As I sip tea you loll on the sofa beside me
I comb your silken fur
You roll over, not only trusting but
begging for a tummy rub.

Sometimes you vault to your kitty condo to watch birds
Silent as a whisper you steal away to sleep on my duvet.
Like Guys and Doll’s gangster, Skye Madison,
your time is the nighttime
At ten o’clock you come alive, frisky and alert
dash about the duvet, run round the living room
Little Crazy Nut and Boogie
I christen you.

Feisty full of fun
You spring three feet in the air
to tackle toys and ribbons.
You munch on Spider plants mistaking them for cat grass,
sip out of unattended glasses
knock over vases of peonies
to quench your thirst
You relish games of challenge
“Hanger Game” a favourite, paws darting out from beneath your fuzzy fleece
to catch that metal hanger.

You like to lick my juicy apple,
taste yogurt and applesauce on a spoon.
share a shrimp from my pad thai.
Between mouthfuls of Wellness
you hop onto my lap
connection is more important than food
so I stroke your back as you eat.
Your caregivers soon see I am not spoiling you
You’re social - will eat better with affection and room service.

Wonderful companion
I call to you in your tower from my Lazy Boy
“Kitty come up”
You respond with a gentle leap
warm my lap and heart.
As I mute commercials , relax to your calming purr
we watch TV together.

When friends visit
you bound down stairs, sniff an outstretched hand
approve with a head butt or bum twirl
accept a scratch behind the ears or chin chuck.

Sunshine and fresh spring air
Bring out your adventurous nature
you knock your leash on the floor
“Let’s go outside,” you say.
You explore the garden,
stopping to munch new grass
sit and catch the breeze.

When I come home
You hear my car in the drive
gallop down the stairs to greet me
Sometimes so fast your nose at the door as I open it.
After one three week trip to Europe
you wrap your white paws around Alan‘s pant leg and hold on
“Don’t leave me alone, stay and pet me,” you plead
You sense my footsteps,
I know, be cautious opening the door
You leap across luggage straight to my arms
A long flight, I want to wash my hands before I pet you
you follow me to the bathroom
climb onto the toilet,
kitty arms outstretched as I lather
“Please pick me up?” you say
You nestle into my chest, paws around my shoulders
holding on like a child
We snuggle on the couch.
Never have I known such affection.

At the computer
You wait patiently in your circular bed
for so long, then a little meow
as paws reach up my chair
or you pretend to chew cords
jump behind my laptop screen
“My turn now mom, pet me.”

At bed time you race upstairs
Sometimes I want to hold you,
Sometimes journal, read the paper first,
You lightly leap into my lap
“Time to cuddle.”
You’re right of course, I can’t resist.

You lie across my chest and abdomen
slide into the crook of my arm
It’s your baby position
You look up lovingly with
Trust and sweetness.

You like body contact
Nuzzle against my knee and thigh
often use my ankle as a pillow
I awaken to find you sleeping parallel
beside me on the bed, your head on the soft pillow
You bring comfort.

On cold winter mornings you meow at the duvet
I lift it up, you crawl beneath
warm up by my feet.

Innocent beauty
Your life brings joy
Human love less perfect
You love without condition
Always and forever
loved - remembered.

February 2014

Member Poetry Posts

A few tips for club members posting poetry.

#1. Feel free to post as often as you like.

#2. Remember to apply the labels "Poetry by Members" and "Poetry by YOUR FIRST NAME".

#3. Please include the title of the poem, your name and possibly even what year you wrote it.

#4. Feel free to include a link to your personal poetry website.


Also feel free to leave thoughtful comments on other people`s poetry posts.

Toronto Poetry Club Meeting, February 2014

Four poets braved -25 weather and 40 km winds last night to attend the first meeting of the new Toronto Poetry Club. We were expecting more people at the first meeting, but the extreme cold weather kept some poets at home and we cannot blame them.

It was so blistering cold outside last night it was difficult to breathe.

In attendance was President Charles (holding the camera), Gail (a regular at the old Toronto Poetry Club before it became defunct), Moj, and Charlotte. We read and discussed 6 poems of our own creations in detail.

One of the poems presented last night was:

Actaeon and His Hounds

By Charles Moffat, February 2014.

Once there was a bowman trained by the centaur Chiron
He was the son of a pious herdsman, by the name of Actaeon
A skilled Theban hunter and swimmer, he was faster than a siren

As a hunter Actaeon loved to roam and with him took his hounds
He travelled to many great lands and was a guest on many palace grounds
His legs were fast and his bow was strong, the sum of many pounds

Actaeon feared no man or beast, hunting as he did
No less than fifty hounds travelled with him, doing as he bid
Stags and lions fell to his arrows, no matter how well they hid

His hounds were Acamas, Aethon, Agre, Agrius, Arcas, Argiodus, Argo,
Asbolos, Borax, Boreas, Charops, Corus, Cyllo, Dinomache, Dorceus, Draco,
Dromas, Dromius, Eudromas, Gorgo, Haemon, Harpalos, Harpyia, Hylacto

Hylaeus, Labros, Lacaena, Lachnas, Lacon, Ladon, Leaena, Laelaps, Leonus,
Leucon, Machimus, Melaneus, Nape, Nebrophonos, Obrimus, Orias, Oribasus,
Pachylus, Sagnos, Stilbon, Syrus, Theron, Thoos, Tigris, Volatos, Zephyrus,

So great was Actaeon's skill at hunting that he was called upon by Artemis
She sought a great stag that lived in a forest so deep it was an abyss
Actaeon immediately agreed to help the goddess, hoping for a kiss

As a prize Artemis offered the young archer her own bow, a rare prize
But while Actaeon was a great hunter and archer he was not very wise
His lust for the goddess grew daily, so much that he rarely met her eyes

Artemis grew displeased at his lustful gazes and took her leave from him
She found a spring by the road in Attica and decided to take a swim
But unbeknownst to the goddess Actaeon had pursued her on a whim

Artemis disrobed herself and swam in the cool deep waters of the spring
To get a better view Actaeon climbed into a tree and to a branch did cling
There he saw her in all her glorious beauty while she was singing

The moonlight flowed around her and the waters reflected the stars and trees
Suddenly Artemis stood bolt upright, something had set her at unease
She spotted it, the reflection in the water of a loincloth flapping in the breeze

Actaeon had disrobed and was approaching the dark pool, confident in his beauty
He tousled his hair, and stood there before her smiling without a shred of modesty
When Artemis turned to flee he jumped in after her with a hoot of wild glee

Madly Actaeon pursued her, shouting for his hounds to help him in the hunt
But Artemis thought quickly and cursed him angrily where he stood so blunt
"Shout one more word Actaeon and you shall never have my c**t!"

But the hunter thought nothing of this, so wild was he in his passions
He shouted after her, claiming he was best of all her companions
A hunter even greater than she, his kills many great stags and lions

Artemis changed into a golden doe, fleeing quickly through the foliage
Past sparkling rivers and streams she bounded over every hedge
Until at long last she came to a cliff and jumped over the ledge

Actaeon pursued her wildly, her distant figure disappearing in the brush
He could hear the hounds behind him, barking wildly in their rush
Until he at last lost his breath and paused by a stream that did gush

There in the water he saw his reflection, a handsome rack of antlers
Long neck and four powerful legs, all ending with hooves like hers
So beautiful, he had never seen finer stags, lions or panthers

He knew instantly that she was not the only one thus transformed
He had become his own prey and although beautiful he felt malformed
He could hear his hounds coming closer, across the river they stormed

Actaeon turned and fled, all fifty of his hounds nipping at his heels
He shouted at Artemis to forgive him, so plaintive were his appeals
None of this she heard as his hounds ripped into his flesh for their evening meals

Actaeon died near a spring in Attica, a feast for his beloved hunting pets
Artemis took his hounds as her own, renaming them without any regrets
Let this be a warning to all men who ignore a goddess's threats