Treasure Island

Freeform Workshop


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  • Jefferson Carter (5/14/2014 12:41:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    If any PHer is interested in hearing me read a few poems and chatting about poetry, there's a video of an interview with me on youtube.

    Google youtube, then search Jefferson Carter poet. I look a little nuts and a lot older than I feel, but the conversation is pretty cool. Let me know what you think

  • Unknown But Will Be (5/12/2014 3:06:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Once in while
    we all fear to smile
    just put all the emotions in a file

    but it is contained
    hidden from shame
    it all is just what we make of the game
    -lnm (me)
    its short but not bad??

  • Derek Sturman (4/26/2014 4:11:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    The Warriors Prayer (We heart of a hero)

    Give me a goal just barely in sight.
    Something to strive for with all of my might.

    Give me a hero to teach me what's right.
    Someone to light my way in the night.

    Give me a rifle
    Give me a fight.
    A trifle of Evil to rightfully smite.
    A life full of people, for whom I can fight.
    A wife who is faithful, to whom I can write.

    And when I come home
    From off that swift flight.
    I won't be alone.
    She'll Smile so bright.
    I am carried by brothers, to my left and my right.
    Who unite with their mothers, and calm their deep fright.

    And in that sweet hour, filled with such power.
    I hope she won't cry,
    but try to delight
    that I'd die in the fight
    that the dangers of the world, might be saved from great height.

    -derek sturman.

  • Derek Sturman (4/26/2014 4:05:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    By the river I sit
    alone, caught in my thought.
    an emotional fit.
    My heart is the pit,
    so here I will sit.
    and twords the water I tip

    from reality I slowly slip
    and begin to loose my grip,
    My mind now absent
    on a trip.
    away from the pain,
    and endless shame from which I hang.
    for the cost of what I've lost I am to blame.
    And though I fought it was in vain,
    The love I sought was that of Naught
    So now in pain I wait in thought
    for something swift to end my fate.

    I shift. On her I contemplate.
    A heavy hate I cannot lift.
    My heart was her gift, and here I wait..
    but it's to late, I've lost my mate.
    around my heart a prison gate.

    So now I think what we could be
    but now I see
    I was not me but she, that wanted to be free.
    with easy glee she abandoned me.
    with one decree my heart left empty
    now here I plee in agony
    Please...
    hold me.

    falls to the ground a burning tear
    always urning your voice to hear
    turning to you my dear
    to calm my fear
    but your not here.

    worth all the emptiness and strife
    The most important person in my life
    who's name I've put in my skin with a kitchen knife
    the one I longed to call my wife.

    While now in agony I quiver
    and hopelessness I shiver
    I see my body, drowned in the river

    Though quite ubserd a sudden urge my body to submerge
    Now quite inviting the stream does seem
    so why try fighting, into the stream my face I lean

    My body glide my sole now fly
    no more to hide now when I cry
    but in the tide now I must die
    because i've lied, and why now try


    the one true love that I Have found
    to her my heart is bound and
    for her will pound,
    until I end the sound
    while slowly, now I drown

  • Herbert Guitang (4/26/2014 4:40:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Just A Friend

    Someone you can talk to
    A person you can share with
    The one who can care with you
    Somebody who will be concern with you

    Someone who can understand you
    A person that gives you attention
    The one who can share your affection
    Somebody who can accompany you
    in the storm and in the heaven of your life

    Someone who can make a distance and give you space
    A person with no creepiness and cleverness
    The one with no strings of attachment
    Somebody who is not special, but a simple
    and ordinary “angel” of your life

    Not a best friend
    Not a girlfriend
    Not a boyfriend
    Not a mutual friend

    Only Just a Friend
    herbert guitang

  • Herbert Guitang (4/22/2014 4:20:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Kindly check my poems if freeform in my poet page. Thank you very much

  • Ella Pitt (3/18/2014 5:35:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Milk

    A congealed epidermis.
    My repugnant antagonist.
    Two hundred milliliters at
    Ten forty five.
    Two hundred milliliters at
    Three thirty.
    Just in case the emetic scent
    Had evaded my nostrils.
    Or the diaphonous film
    Was no longer clinging to
    My tonsils generating
    Glutinous saliva.
    I have the self sufficiency of
    An overflowing bin
    Begging to be relieved of
    The soiled nappies and the
    Mildew food packages that
    Fill its cavity.
    Every day I put it in the microwave
    For an extra minute
    Hoping that the boiling temperature
    Will incinerate the impurity
    That lies dorment but like mould
    On my much too long tongue.
    It leers at me.
    Lecherous and toadying villain.
    So I stir it with a spoon
    That sweats with condensation

  • Ella Pitt (3/18/2014 5:34:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Scratch

    Systematically I scratched at a
    Stubborn residue, insignificant but
    Annoyingly present.
    But I wasn't really scratching
    Away at that sticky fleck of molecular matter
    I was watching the
    Malleable plasticine faces on
    The insides of my eyelids.
    And listening to the nauseatingly
    Muffled intonations from
    The insides of my walls
    Wishing I could sink my
    Fingers into my own
    Obstinately unmoving features.
    Or tickle the string of my
    Vocal chords into submission.
    Until my own muffles were coersed
    Brought up from a
    Stinging acidic pool.
    Accumulated from carbonated water
    And dissolved sweetener.
    I feel the fabric around me
    Become tepid and callous
    Its no longer healing
    It is finite polyester

  • Ella Pitt (3/18/2014 5:34:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Newly Old Clothes

    My favourite stripes and
    Those jeans that I wish I'd
    Never bought that mock me
    With their tensile seams
    Of dingy disinfectant yellow.
    They're churning, wrenching, twisting
    Pretzals that I grab with both fists
    Press them to carnivorous teeth
    That quiver underneath
    a Buffalo charge.
    Split hooves, splitting headache
    Four inches abouve teeth where
    My third eye should be.

  • Frank Ovid (3/4/2014 9:50:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I don't have any ideas for any Freeform poems. I'm thinking I should move to the Rhythm and Meter Workshop. Everyone knows how rhythmic I am. Why not take advantage of that gift from my ancestor, Ovid?Yes, Ovid. Quite honestly, it's just that I MOVE so well. Naturally rhythmic from Ovid (my ancestor) I guess?There's not too many 'Freeform' people around here anyway. Look for the big move soon.

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