Writing Poetry

Post a message
  • Sabina Veizaj (3/4/2014 3:31:00 AM) Post reply

    Introducing myself

    You, the other,

    What are you doing

    On my messy table?

    There are my fired dreams,

    My desires, my future thoughts,

    There is He, disappearing to nothing

    He has gone

    Just his candle of birth is firing

    Here is my sex, my ideas

    Growing up with me

    I am fuddled of my loneliness

    My wine is my blood,

    My blood is my wine of the speech to myself

    We are so together

    Giving up to sufferings,

    With Open arms to feel well

    You, the other, welcome,

    victim of my world!

    You the other

    Am i your victim?!

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Suman Kumar Das (3/3/2014 9:57:00 AM) Post reply

    Burning Bribery

    A never ending chain
    Enlarged its web
    From ground-floor to roof-top
    Of each building
    Everywhere in our society.

    An inerasable stigma
    An incurable infection
    Leading to corruptions
    Here and there, all over
    In our modern era.

    How shame!
    Laws and orders made,
    Promoted lectures, speeches
    And social awareness,
    Still all efforts in vain.

    Douse who will
    This burning bribery?

    Suman Kumar Das

  • Rookie - 1st Stage ibrahim Ayagi (2/26/2014 6:21:00 AM) Post reply


    How could one cry when the tears dried inside?
    Agony of unspoken words still raze,
    Dizziness blinds the dampen spirit.
    When bone grows feeble of emotional trauma, what would be of the fragile heart?
    When the little you have for love is taken away forever, would you ever love again?
    When the shortest and untimely notice to quit the comfort zone is given, what would now remain of the wandering love bird?
    How lonely and sick would you be when even the words to say goodbye linger on your tongue?
    Worst still, you all have been suffering in silence of not vomiting the words that could have make difference.
    Now the sudden announcement of a journey with no specific destination is made,
    Fears of being alone has now grip the soul,
    Boredom threaten the troubling mind,
    Limbo has also found a breeding ground with help seems nowhere to be found.
    If truly consoled why the memory is still fresh,
    If the reason given is genuine why the smoldering inside.
    Alas this heart is broken into pieces!

    Ibrahim Ayagi

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Nirode Ray (2/23/2014 3:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Hi Everyone,

    I visited St.Petersburg, FL during the New Year eve time. I loved that place, its beach, its downtown and its surreal ambience. I wrote a poem on St. Pete beach to show my adulation. I am posting it here. I hope you guys would like it.
    Nirode Ray

    The Ocean Bells!
    (By Nirode Ray)

    It is before dawn
    the sun is still in bed
    at the shore end
    the sky lightens up
    and the sun pops out again.
    The seagull looks docile
    water remains placid
    the girl stands there,
    her curly brown hair
    in a cool ocean breeze.

    It is skin dip hot
    the noon wears no cap
    after a glass of ale
    I take a fizzy nap.
    Water is warm now
    sand turns white to grey
    that seagull remains there
    waiting for his prey.

    Evening falls slow
    the sun starts packing down
    a lonely dolphin, off shore,
    flaps back to her town.
    the sky looks foamy
    light changes its hue
    a series of blurred visions,
    like Monet’s Impressions
    hover on soft blue.

    The night hops
    it's all deep dark
    only a lighthouse blinks
    at a distant far.
    I look up to heaven
    I want to see her face
    the ocean bells,
    a tiny magic spell
    shuts my eyes close
    I lay down on St.Pete bay
    my memory fades away
    and the ocean allures me again.

    Replies for this message:
    • Atheanga Tiomaint (3/18/2014 7:21:00 PM) Post reply

      A beautiful poem. You have capture the experience perfectly. Well-done!

    • ibrahim Ayagi (2/26/2014 6:17:00 AM) Post reply

      you already are a great poet. I must confess i love this poem. Please lets rub mind on poetry.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Suman Kumar Das (2/23/2014 8:26:00 AM) Post reply

    My respected bards,

    I am happy to back to this wonderful e-plat form after few days. I cordially invite you all to read my new writes 'Bereft Beggar' & 'Sprouting Seed'. Look forward to receiving your guidance for my future works.

    Suman Kumar Das

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Partha Sarathi Paul (2/23/2014 3:01:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    My life is...

    like a river
    that meanders with sharp curves
    and often changes its course.
    like a sponge
    that is wet with the odorous swab
    of not-to-be-forgotten sorrow.
    like a waterfall
    that is hidden behind a grove of throes
    yet violently gurgles and wildly calls.
    like an open diary page
    that looks droll with jotted doodle.
    like an alive match box
    that is full with slender Muse sticks.
    like a tube rail in tunnel.

    Replies for this message:
  • Rookie - 1st Stage Taylor Kilgour (2/21/2014 4:35:00 PM) Post reply

    Write better poetry by exploring your thoughts and feelings about a topic that holds personal value to you.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Suman Kumar Das (2/21/2014 11:18:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Bereft Beggar

    I beg you, Mom!
    A piece of sandwich,
    Baked in your kitchen oven
    Not in some food factory.
    A glass of water I beg,
    Not a bottle of branded drink.
    For your magic hands
    Bring a heavenly savour
    Enough to quench hunger, thirst.

    I beg you, Dad!
    Out of your busy hours
    Few minutes to play with me
    Not long days for world trip.
    One or two coins I beg,
    Not a bunch of plastic perks.
    For your love and affection
    Fills the highest pleasure
    More than all needs.

    O’ my dear parents!
    It has been sixteen summers
    Spent lonely in hostel
    Bereft of your jocund company
    That bliss I beg today.

    Suman Kumar Das

    Replies for this message:
    • Patricia Northall (3/26/2014 11:57:00 AM) Post reply

      Such deep understanding of young teenagers emotional neglect and need for love. The last verse " O' my dear parents! ....... tugged at my heartstrings and " I beg you Dad.... asking ... more

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Chris Tuscano Harris (2/12/2014 4:41:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Wouldn't it be nice if we used forums to actually talk about poetry and advice?

    Wishful thinking.

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 1st Stage Donna Chlimon (2/19/2014 6:49:00 PM) Post reply

      Seriously. Save the poems for your poet page, or another forum.

    • Rookie - 1st Stage Doris Cornago (2/15/2014 1:14:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      Same here, Chris. I came over from another website hoping to find welcome from veteran poets. The most I see are bickering and backbiting. There are a few newbie who will gawk at veterans decapitating ... more

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Anteaus Berryhill (2/11/2014 8:09:00 PM) Post reply

    This cold weather
    That is hard to walk in.
    I hope it gets warmer.
    Even though bad times are stressful.
    Working and studying is why I'm tired.
    And Lord knows I haven't been restful.
    So much to do and so much pressure.
    This life try to build fear upon me.
    But i know I got the power to build a strategy at any measure.
    I pray for the lord to keep my mind in full consciousness.
    When demons try to scare.
    Because I know I can't lose nothing less.
    I ask myself how can I win?
    To be able to pass every test.
    To be able to be a fox to observe every trap at my best.
    And be a lion to put fear upon my enemies by success and happiness

[Hata Bildir]