Treasure Island

Writing Poetry


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  • Jan Oskar Hansen (2/13/2007 3:41:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Instant Attraction.

    In the queue buying lottery tickets, last day, last chance
    to win a fortune, I turned and there behind me she was
    the Chinese lady, our eyes met, I had known her all my
    life. Instantly every detail of her face was engraved on
    my mind, if I met her later dressed as peasant woman,
    in Shanghai I would still recognized her

    At the local café I ate fresh Danish pastry, drank newly
    brewed coffee when she came in and sat behind me,
    tremor in hands couldn’t read was acutely aware of her
    presence, too self conscious to get up without breaking
    a cup or turn to speak to her, but we’re meant for each
    other, something has to give.

    Pondering my own feelings I got a little distracted, so
    when I finally turned to look behind me, she was gone;
    had another pastry, remembered she was the Mandarin
    lady that decorated every mess hall on every ship I have
    sailed on; at meal time she looked straight at me and no
    one else in the room.

  • Slick Sorathiya (2/13/2007 11:28:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Focus on a particular topic, imagine what i'd be like to experience what you're writing about. Oh and yes have hidden meanings in your poems they really get the readers hooked.

  • Rownel Allen (2/10/2007 12:06:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Hi;


    I didn't have any formal education about poetry. I just write to express my feelings. Please advice what areas I need to improve on. I hope to write more poems about life, love and romance.

  • Lucy Marskell (2/8/2007 3:15:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Hey i'm new to this site and i was just wondering wot you think of my poems and how i can improve them..

  • Goldy Locks (2/6/2007 5:46:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Leader, a

    Two followers.

  • Jan Oskar Hansen (1/30/2007 1:42:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Cold Scenery.

    The fat duck stands on ice, the pond
    has frozen over, shifting its appetizing
    weight from leg to leg, must be cold.
    Little snow around, too cold for that;
    so why doesn’t it stand on some dead
    grass? An arctic fox sneaks up wears
    expensive fur, but as it lunges the bird
    jumps up in the air, the fox loses its
    balance and slides to the other side of
    the pond; gets up runs, head down to its
    hole in the ground, by the cold boulder.
    The duck stands as lost in thoughts,
    the Nordic landscape is perfectly still
    and the sun is a frozen Florida orange

  • Deanna More (1/29/2007 10:53:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Poetic Inspiration can be gotten from many sources.
    Here's an example (as promised, for Wolfboy1992) .
    It's a poem I wrote after seeing a picture of
    a HUGE funny-eyed lady.

    -----
    Titled...''Wall Eyed + K-K-Krazy''

    Peripheral Vision! A plus, indeed!
    When hunting escapees in thick ditch reed.
    A wall-eyed HAG with peroxided hair.
    The glint in her eye said 'Say a prayer! '

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Fort Knox, Texas

    Gossip ran rampant at Sally's Café.
    'Joe's Mail-Order Bride, she's coming today!
    Her ETA set at twelve o'clock noon.
    This Russian Gongzilla'll be here soon.'

    'Stupid old Joe! ' muttered Molly McVain
    'Fer he ain't gotta clue WHAT'S on that train!
    Hairy Ms. Big Foot was his last Blind Date.
    I guess he ain't fussy who'll be his mate.'

    'He's gotta smarten-up and give a hoot.
    Could be a Gold Digger out for his loot.
    I'd wed him, m'self, if he weren't so strange.'
    Said a penny-pincher, counting her change.


    Meanwhile...

    In a Moscow Prison, far, far away.
    Bad jail birds yell...'Bravo za USA! '
    Cause a thorn in their side had quit her job.
    'Pazz-zee VodKa! ' hollers this Slavic mob.

    (A fate worse than death for any inmate
    Was to rile a guard named K-K-Krazy Kate.
    Wired and muscled like a Wrestling Champ.
    Worst fear of all? Her Barracuda Clamp!)

    Nightly tally caused a terrible fright
    When her eyes (pointing to the left + right) ,
    Eerily peered into each Cell Block Door.
    Counting...'6 per bunk and 10 on the floor.'

    'Shezz mean aza croc in a Booclah Swamp
    Thura barb wire, barefooted, shezzd stomp.
    Gone tu wed a FOOL! ' laughed Testroff to Zaul.
    Scott free after scaling the Prison Wall.

    Tick-Tock! ...12 O'clock

    Express Train pulled up. K-K-Krazy Kate stepped down.
    Right there to meet her was Jimmy Joe Brown.
    No hug! No kiss! Shared a Cold One, instead.
    (Punched open with the ONE tooth in her head.)

    Sharing a beer was a great 'Howdy do? '
    To a Single Life, both bid it 'Adieu! '
    She neatened his hair with her pocket comb
    Then, lifted him up and carried him HOME.

    ------

  • Jan Oskar Hansen (1/29/2007 1:11:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    The Hunted.

    The little red fox he had shot
    and now carried by its hind legs
    to the village to show his mates,
    dripped blood from its mouth.
    On to the sea- sand lane drops,
    of ruby glinted in the sun, but
    quickly paled as domestic dogs
    went wild ready to tear a tiny
    body apart. The hunter and his
    mates laughed.

  • dark underlord (1/27/2007 1:04:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    im havin trouble coming up with any good poems any one have any tips

    Replies for this message:
    • Deanna More (1/29/2007 10:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Hi Wolf Boy, Whenever I seek inspiration for a new poem, I stare at a picture of something interesting such as... (1) an old farm house and I visualize it's occupants of By-Gone Days. Or...(2 ... more

  • Jan Oskar Hansen (1/18/2007 9:39:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Peace in our Lifetime

    Hot day, glad to see the sun sink into
    the westerly sea, I couldn’t care less
    that it made the heavens into a giant
    nursery, with pink teddies…smiling,
    to no one in particular.

    She pointed her tiny fingers upward
    and was in awe, I saw only the sea,
    red as blood; yes, she would live to
    see many more wars before she got
    old as me; I sang her a lullaby.

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