Mental Health Drop-In Center

This poem was written as a collaborative effort by the Poetry Class. The lesson was on how to mine for words to improve poetry.

Food by The Live Muses Society

Step into the kitchen, and by the nose

remember; sweet scents of dwellings,

Thoughts of comfort to compose.

Memories emerge, like a rivers head spring

Return to family, friends, and home

reunions, thoughts of spring and summer.

In the journey of thought, we do roam,

Recalling aromas that stir distant murmurs

Of sharp spices, savory sauces, like families,


To sweet holidays, abundant family communion

Visions of loved ones and me, I am warmly humbled

By its invitation, reminding me I am human

Life's Journey invites all of us to the table and eat

Baking and roasting is done, come on over, have a seat

"That Lady" Acrylic Painting

​A little cold,

The promise of sunrise in Chelsea, Manhattan,

From the window, the streets look like

canyons. In the warm cozy room

Two American Dames. Sisters,

Preparing to watch a royal family


A biracial woman, Solitary but royal in purpose

And spirit, to her Prince.

The sisters titled themselves.

Two American Ladies in Waiting

A Fantasy Peerage Partaking in Celebration

The New Yorkers were properly prepared

They had their




They Dined on tuna,

 On Marmalade

Tea oh’ the tea!

Rich with the flavor of

Earl gray and honey

Food, the fragrance of brisk morning

They were dressed in their finest

A dream of Spring hats, white laced gloves, for the tea of course,

The dresses were elegant, tailored, but in reality silk pajamas.

​A pullout comfy sofa was their second-row seat 

In Saint Georges Chapel.

Saving, of course, the front row for the Queen's view

The Ladies wined and dined observing on the Tellie

The arrival of American Royalty

Oprah, George and Amahl, and warrior Serena.

Britain’s other Royalty; Sir Elton, David, and Posh, and Dame Helen of Miren.

The Bride arrived.

The Dames were excited, elated.

Her gown


As she glided up the steps,

Twin uniformed boys lifting

Her gossamer train

Embroidered with National flowers,


The New York Dames

Glanced at each other with tears.

Thy felt Elation,

The felt uplifted

Feelings of Pride, Joy

They smiled for the Couple
In a room, on a canyoned street

On the Isle of Manhattan

On a chilly Day in May.

Poetry Class 9Muses Art Center


What Can I Tell You About Me? 

I laugh,
I make others laugh
but when I go home
There are times
When I cry
I feel a great loss
Both are present within me
Sunrise to moon glow
both are present
and I still live
So for today
I thrive...

​by Wiley Guy

So colorful a world did you dream, when loneliness whispered, you still had a place to go.

Clever little boy, I want you to know, you saved me and made me. I thank you…

Wiley Guy

My Eyes Have Seen

My heart sings a little song,
That takes me down this wayward pond.

My eyes have seen the likes of few
Who has sung a song of only you.

Few dogs and cats will see this night,
The thoughts I think are just polite.

As autumn leaves fall from fallen trees,
That slowly sink behind the breeze.

We sail as if to meet the moon,
With laughter that found us soon.

Listen as we dare to look,
At this rushing little brook.

Each laid on a steady hand
And in the rush to join this land.

My heart sings a little song
That takes me down this wayward pond.

 by Clarence Smith


Water Chrystal Is
Light Trapped In Elements
Cooling My Gray Face

​Wiley Guy

For Me

To write a poem worth reading requires self-disclosure.

Beyond my comfort zone.

Yet it's just me and my little book with pieces of my heart exposed.

I'm okay with knowing all of me because we're all the same I think.

Humans, so complex, full of joy and fear and doubt.

And lots of "if only"s. Although I reject "if only", my mind still dances through that phrase, then quickly moves to this one day ahead.

Sometimes I dwell in bittersweet regret but not for long.

Melancholia is not my style

I prefer thoughts that make me smile.

by Linda G.

Magnificent Sunrise

The day is everything.
If I get to hear the wind performing its howl for me in my apartment, I am delighted.
Nature's magic has not been wasted on this grain of sand, this day.

by Linda G.

A Poem to Myself

I have a story for the little boy who was locked out on the porch as the rest of them commuted in the house.

How brave you were to imagine worlds and adventures. So vivid it filled you with joy instead of bitterness.


When my soulful self
Is swallowed up by
The deep grey storm
And I am not sure why
My mind and body
Can’t take another beating

I look to heaven
And ask an uncomfortable truth
Why am I staying here?
Why endure?
Why simply why?

I guess I am planted in the world
Due to the seed of hope
Sometimes it is so small
But is so determined to remind me
That along with hope there is a winding path
And I am just plain curious what is just beyond

​by Wiley Guy

“That Lady”

The Black Lady stares, as everyone watches her
Her skin is so cold, yet so tender
Such a smile from ear to ear
You can tell, she has a lot on her mind
She has something to say
And she is not telling
Her dress is green and her hair is covered with a blue wrap
She has all that knowledge safe.

by Doris J.

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