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  • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/2/2014 4:15:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies
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    Ok, here is what is becoming clear......

    We seem to have 2 camps on here. I will call them the oppressed Palmer camp(OPC's) and the enlightened Carter camp(ECC) . The former is led by a jealous, immature and autocratic leader named Lament Palmer, while the latter is led by an enlightened, modernist and pro-active leader named Jefferson Carter.

    Jefferson's background includes a Phd in English Literature along with at least 20 years of teaching creative writing.

    Palmer's background lacks seriously in terms of any formal education in anything, along with lack of experience in teaching anything. And yet he claims to have been reading and writing poetry since the age of 13.

    The enlightened camp includes:
    Jefferson Carter
    John Gulsher
    Mike Acker
    Peter Stavropolous(possibly independent)

    The opressed camp includes:
    Lament Palmer(aka The Mediocrity, Big Bird and as of lately, Monty the Mule)
    Cherry Gonzales(aka The Unattractive Streaker and Cherry the Inconsistent)
    Adam Snow(poor Adam)
    Shifty Moriarty(aka Dotdash$#%%$)
    Scotty Dogg(Prof Plum) an insignificant, silly creature
    Alexander Rizzo(possibly aka Cherry Gonzales, , Lamont Palmer or Angie Gunnel)
    Frank Ovid(???)

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    • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/2/2014 9:18:00 PM) Post reply

      Every camp should have it's mule

    • Freshman - 1,187 Points Professor Plum (10/2/2014 7:21:00 PM) Post reply

      I want my own camp. Anyone want to come with me?...well, let me rephrase that. So far it's Dog God 8hate and myself. Palmer says he might want to come with me. I told him I don't come with just anyb ... more

    • Freshman - 1,187 Points Gulsher John (10/2/2014 5:19:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      hahaha... well said Miky... but who is this Mr Ovid?and u see the 'enlightened' often changes the course History.

  • Rookie - 426 Points Adam M. Snow (10/2/2014 4:10:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    God's Not Dead
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    God's not dead,
    I see Him all around;
    In the dawn of a new day,
    the vibrant colors across the sky.
    I see Him in the eyes of babes,
    the children laughing and playing.
    I see Him in the birds
    soaring across the open sky.
    I see Him in my own reflection
    looking back at me.
    I see Him in the sea, the deep blue sea.
    I see Him in the sunset,
    when the day has ended.
    I see Him when I am gazing at the night sky above.
    I see Him looking back at me.
    God's not dead,
    the fact that I still breathe
    and morning come,
    that's all the proof this poet needs.

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    • Rookie - 426 Points Mike Acker (10/2/2014 4:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Do you see him when children are raped and beheaded? Do you see him when a male lion kills all cubs of the male it has just supplanted? Do you see it in the suffering of blacks in South Africa for o ... more

    • Rookie - 426 Points Mohammad Skati (10/2/2014 4:14:00 PM) Post reply

      It's a very great poem. Yes, God is anywhere and everywhere. I will translate it later on. Great feelings and emotions. Thanks.

  • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/2/2014 2:54:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies


    Do I love you?
    Yes, of course
    I do.

    Did I always?
    Yes, of course
    I did.

    It's when
    you ask:
    ' Then, why?',
    that I can
    give no answer.

    I simply did
    what I had to do.

    I told the lies
    and whispered
    the bitter-sweet
    you needed to hear
    and acted the roles
    and painted the smiles
    on the masks
    I had to wear
    that covered
    the pains.

    I built the sets
    which you needed
    to walk through
    in order for you
    to stay with me.

    For, it was always
    about the whys
    and not the lies.

    It was never the lines
    but what's between,
    where the meanings died.

    All that smoke
    and all those mirrors
    and the mirages
    I needed to make
    all for you
    and never for me.

    We had to dance
    The Dance,
    that grand
    Dance of Deceits.

    It's what gives
    the life which
    gives no damn
    about our hows,
    and, of course,
    our whys.

    Mike Acker

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  • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/2/2014 1:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    (Did you mean this one, John?)


    Phallic upheavals of steel and glass
    pierce the air with sibilant thrusts.
    This unctuous high-rising
    does nothing for the stoic skies.

    Far from crest-fallen,
    the unadulterated masses
    of surfeit height and weight
    ascend insouciantly,
    sublimating their unfulfilled desires
    with yet more invidious growth.

    Filled with sanguine, but ill-fated expectations
    they persist rapaciously
    in an obscene attempt to dominate.
    The cerulean skies however, not as ductile
    as their acquiescent manners seem to suggest,

    settle phlegmatically over these exigent
    protrusions with subtle, almost wistful soughing.
    Denied the rapturous climax,
    they are doomed to stand ever-erect,
    like deranged, Cossack sentries
    guarding bankrupt vaults.

    Vaunted by only the narcissists,
    they will hold none,
    but the vain
    in their thrall.

    Mike Acker

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    • Freshman - 1,187 Points Alexander Rizzo (10/2/2014 2:12:00 PM) Post reply

      'settle phlegmatically over these exigent protrusions with subtle, almost wistful soughing.' goodness that's a mouthful lol...how do you go from under-writing so badly, to over-writing so badly. ... more

  • Rookie - 184 Points Zoila T. Flores (10/2/2014 12:47:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Absolutely, Your Hobby has to be enjoyable. However, we just have to pay attention to the rhyming and verse. And try to make it sound musical to the reader's ear. That's what Poetry is about.

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    • Rookie - 184 Points Gulsher John (10/2/2014 5:40:00 PM) Post reply

      yes, in old times it was so('what you said) . Stay here for awhile and i m sure you will forget your definition.

  • Freshman - 1,125 Points Jacqueline Nash (10/2/2014 11:22:00 AM) Post reply

    As I wrote on the Writing Poetry Forum:
    The main thing when writing poetry is that you enjoy writing it. Whether it is written to convey a message, as a cathartic process or exercise; or written purely as a beautiful flow of words, rhyming or not, to describe an experience or anything that has inspired you, it doesn't matter. People often try to defend their style of poetry by denigrating others. I say it doesn't matter, ignore them, choose your own style, work on it, improve on it until you are happy with the results. Everybody has their own preference when it comes to poetry and you can't please everybody, so stay true to yourself and write what comes naturally to you. It's not some competition of who can write more intellectually than somebody else, it's about passion and getting that over in the best way you can.
    You can argue until you are blue in the face about what is the best poetry or what poetry is, but if you are comfortable with what you write, it really shouldn't matter.

  • Rookie - 589 Points Jefferson Carter (10/2/2014 10:47:00 AM) Post reply

    Monty the Mule, please dump your Rizzo persona. He sounds just as stuffy and wrong-headed as you. Why bother disguising your ass-i-ninity?I love it when you toss around terms like " lyrical, " as if you have the foggiest idea what it means.

    Contrary to your comments below, I'm not competing against D.H. Lawrence. Although you're one of the most virulently ambitious scribblers I know, writing poetry is not a competition to climb an imagined poet pecking order. I write as well as I can, according to the direction the poem suggests as I compose it. If anything, " Geneology" is satirical and not meant to be especially " lyrical, " however that term resonates in the desert of your mind. As you might say in one of your more intelligible moments, comparing it to " Piano" is like comparing snapples to ho-ranges.

  • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/1/2014 11:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 9 replies

    Bedouin Woman

    The Bedouin woman seems old and tired.
    Her favorite son's star is tattooed
    inside her heart. Outside hangs that bloody
    cross. Every morning she places a golden
    dome upon her head, becoming a beacon
    for all those dead.

    Her oldest has returned from a bitter
    exile and inhuman fate, displacing his youngest
    brother from their Mother's side. She cried
    sanguine tears for many thousand years
    to have him back, but he is not of her,
    like before.

    Her children play their cruel games
    at her ancient, brittle feet. All are hers
    from Fathers now buried deep. Her old hands,
    brown and warm, cannot comfort, anyone,
    anymore. She will live for ever.
    She is the mother of them all.

    Mike Acker

    (I am not ashamed of anything I have written, unlike some people I know. At least I am realistic about the level of my poetry. My excuse, and a good one if I may say so, is that I have only been interested in poetry(let alone writing it) since April/May of 2012) . What is your excuse, " Scotty Dogg" ? Lamont Palmer claims he has been writing for over 40 years and Cherry Gonzales is even married to a Poet Laureate(of the universe, I believe) , from what " personas" have pointed out.)

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  • Freshman - 1,187 Points Mike Acker (10/1/2014 9:01:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    For all our devout members, especially Sherrie Kolb Cassel and Lamont Palmer. It may help inspire!


    (The state-of-the-art 70,000 square foot museum brings the pages of the Bible to life, casting its characters and animals in dynamic form and placing them in familiar settings. Adam and Eve live in the Garden of Eden. Children play and dinosaurs roam near Eden’s Rivers. The serpent coils cunningly in the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Majestic murals, great masterpieces brimming with pulsating colors and details, provide a backdrop for many of the settings.)

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    • Freshman - 1,187 Points Professor Plum (10/1/2014 10:14:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Can you post 'Bedouin Woman' one more time?I miss that ba*tard. So poignant! Wasn't the son suckling on the mother's teat at one point?You got some Stevens in ya, boy!

  • Gold Star - 16,061 Points Gajanan Mishra (10/1/2014 8:32:00 PM) Post reply

    One who loves me, One who is in truth, One who is in Non-violence is my Father. Let me called him " Father"

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