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  • Lukas Woyzeck (2/3/2005 11:27:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    Silent birds conquer skies,
    The army of clouds passive,
    Rays of sun enlighten the show,
    A yellow rose pierces through earth,
    Delivered to armies of grass,
    Still free-
    Wind and water make both bow,
    But they manage to rise again
    And trying to reach the light,
    But desperate-
    The flower grows becoming beauty,
    Proudly grows above the grass,
    Green, seeing everywhere around,
    One million yellow roses just like her

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  • Robert Lawrence (2/2/2005 6:27:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I'm new on this site, see if one of these poems are interesting...'Developing the Pictures'

    I embrace the impatience in my arms.
    Sent by the river to do me harm.
    But instead of harm, give me a place.
    Where I can see the most lovely face.
    Give me the wings to fly away,
    to heaven where the angels stay;
    where tranquil peace fills the hearts of those,
    who from the prison of life arose,
    to seek love, passion, peaceful sleep.
    But sound sleepers always awaken, to the smell of fire burning deep;
    the sight of dreams that start to weep.
    As demons slash the night away,
    and build a hot and hellish grave,
    for the dreams that were swept away,
    from the eyes of dreamers.
    And leave me with the haunting thought that I would never see her.
    But even with the sun in sight, I evade and close my eyes.
    And build some shade to shield from demise.
    So I can feel the night again, and feel the kiss, the love, the dream and then. Say this night will never end.
    An eternal portrait shows itself. But in truth the sun will always send
    eternal portraits back to the shelf.

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    • Lukas Woyzeck (2/3/2005 11:32:00 AM) Post reply

      hmm quite prosaic, complex, i like the themes quite a lot (night/light/heaven) keep it going ;) maybe u shud try to be more expressive by making it shorter which will accentuate the words left ... more

  • Lukas Woyzeck (2/2/2005 2:43:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    hey...i ve created this poem yesterday, it s my first english poem ever i hope u enjoy it:

    Shadow, you ever running deserteur,
    Shadow, runner of the walls past,
    Have you ever taken the time to look at the sun,
    Just looking, forgetting your real dedication

    Shadow, you friend of those who want to rest,
    You, that enlarge ourselves in the eye of the mighty light,
    Representing ourselves the way we might want to be,
    But when we turn our looks into the sun we know,
    How small we really are
    And you only are
    Cause of us
    Shame on

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  • Natascha Krause (12/29/2004 12:20:00 AM) Post reply | Read 4 replies

    Ok..I'm new on this site but have lots to share..This poem I'm posting has all male names because I am a woman. However(never forget the word..However) , I know we can ALL relate to at least one of these types of people! ..And isn't that so very sad? ..Anyway, hope you enjoy this...NK


    Hi, my name is Bert
    My goal is only to hurt
    I don't care about you
    or what you've been through
    I just want you to feel like dirt

    Hi, my name is Sam
    To destroy you is my plan
    I'll massage your heart
    then rip it apart
    I do this because I can

    Hi, my name is Dave
    Your body is all that I crave
    When I'm through with it
    It's time to split
    Don't expect me to turn back and wave

    Hi, my name is John
    I'm a regular Don Juan
    I'll mess with your head
    just to get you in bed
    But, when you wake, in the morning, I'm gone

    Hi, my name is Bill
    I take advantage of you at will
    I get into your soul
    Make you lose control
    Then I move on to my next kill

    These players we've all had to meet
    They've fooled us with lies and deceit
    They play hurtful games
    and leave us in pain
    Then, move on to the next heart to cheat

    So, don't be so quick to trust
    Make sure it's Love not Lust
    Try not to be blind
    and keep in mind
    Protecting your heart is a must

    Replies for this message:
    • Lukas Woyzeck (2/2/2005 4:53:00 AM) Post reply

      you havent met me yet i guess: P

    • Tamara Lieber (1/30/2005 8:55:00 PM) Post reply

      Well, I must say that I really like this one. Yes, we have all met or known of characters like these. You did a great job!

    • Kim McInnis (1/30/2005 2:15:00 PM) Post reply

      It strikes me as kind of funny, too. I think it's the rhymes; rarely do you see a serious poem written as a limerick. Kudos to you for giving it a try. It's entertaining as well as honest and insig ... more

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  • missy harris (12/3/2004 1:48:00 PM) Post reply

    i would realy like some constructive critisism
    .. if any one has the time..
    my first two poems, inutile and photograph are the best
    ecstacy was written as i was having a hard time thinking.. lol..

  • Blacklord Darkness (12/3/2004 5:13:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I have a question... like if i want to look for a poem written by a reader here how do i find it.. is there a search with name etc? ?

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    • Frederick Kesner (1/3/2005 9:24:00 PM) Post reply

      Yes. If you click on the Home tab (topleft) there should be a search by name or poem title, plus a third option.... F

  • Blacklord Darkness (12/3/2004 5:10:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Hi all

    i am wht people would call a n00b... just wandering around to find people who

    have some tastes tht i perhaps think i do too :))

    free form

    finally a place perhaps to let go of all the rules that govern poetry

    I like This

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    • Frederick Kesner (1/3/2005 9:20:00 PM) Post reply

      Welcome! And yes, there are several differences in taste, or so I have observed. Maybe, not all rules.... even anarchy would have a rule or two... but that's another issue... Enjoy your interac ... more

  • Shelly Kingston (10/6/2004 5:01:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Have you read Stealing by Carol Ann Duffy? The writing style of hers and yours are similar ;)

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    • Rhys Davies (8/5/2009 7:21:00 PM) Post reply

      To quote my man Tupac, Cops do give a fuch about a negro, pull the trigga kill a nigga, hes a hero

  • Luigi Coppola (6/19/2004 5:46:00 PM) Post reply | Read 8 replies

    Ok, again lol, just to get the ball rolling. I usually have titles in bold, and the 'Hello' in stanza 3 in italics (anyone know if that's possible here?): not important in this case though.

    Please be as critical and honest as you like; even if you hate it. Terminology note; fluff you might know as lint (I'm in England, just so you know...)




    The smallest thing I ever loved was a pebble:
    Springtime. Seemed ordinary enough, until he winked
    at me through the splashing sea. Then the sun grew
    darker, my footprints sank into the sand, leaving it
    wetter, firmer. One stretch and he was mine.

    No one would miss him; the mermaids had their pearls
    and sunken treasures. I had my pebble, melted smooth
    through the ages and changes of land and sea;
    snug in my hand in my pocket of my jacket,
    my fingers protecting him from the world, but not the fluff.

    I’ve loved lots of small things. I hide them
    for their safety – Malcolm the magnet in a drawer,
    Colin the coin in a shoebox under my bed, and Victor
    the video I wrap in brown paper and mail to myself;
    hugging him home every four days later like an old friend – Hello!

    But the pebble took longer to name: Paul, Patrick, Percy?
    I wrote them on tissue, kissed each one, put them in
    the shoebox (Colin didn’t mind the company) and drew out –
    Penelope… I don’t remember writing that one down;
    the things I love always seem to surprise me.

    Loneliness. Sometimes I’m so lonely I close my eyes
    and imagine a party. A party with all my friends;
    all my real friends. The ones I find. The ones that find
    What time’s tea, mum? Can I have fish fingers again?

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