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  • Rookie - 431 Points Adam M. Snow (11/16/2014 9:08:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies
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    The Day the Jester Died
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Twenty one times three, a journey of laughter;
    the fool borne clown was he.
    Entertaining his majesty - soon after
    realize the laughter would soon die with him.
    Soon to vanish, he of many voices.
    All his jest would soon to end,
    all to end by his choices;
    a feeling without a friend.
    This Jester who proudly gave us laughter,
    was dying deep within.
    Covering his pain with the joy of laughter.
    If it were enough, it would have been,
    but it wasn't enough for him.
    So this Jester left to wonder,
    'Was he truly loved enough?'
    Yet he could not see past yonder,
    the treasures that loved enough.
    He gave his all but lost his soul to grieve,
    and grieve himself upon a tree.
    Entangled rope among the sticks and leaves,
    a last resort, felt for a Jester such as he.
    So now this Jester once a clown,
    lays to rest within his chamber.
    Retiring with him his Jester's crown,
    leaving with us a memory to remember.
    This Jester left without a bow,
    still a mystery to us all.
    The thought that struck him and how
    he felt the need to fall.
    A broken heart, was that his pain?
    Thus this day that laughter died.
    A reason for sorrow to reign,
    O for his majesty, who cried.
    O his majesty's courts,
    silence fills the hall.
    The king is left to mourn,
    the Jester who felt the need to fall.
    Laughter died with him,
    the fool borne clown.
    A joyous time spent with him,
    now he passes on his Jester's crown.

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 431 Points The Pundit (11/21/2014 1:09:00 PM) Post reply

      You're giving all you got, Kid. If I could slap you on the back, I would. Kind of like chocolate syrup, but better than no syrup at all. Try some powdered sugar next time.

    • Rookie - 431 Points ... Dog God 8hate (11/21/2014 9:49:00 AM) Post reply

      . . . A lovely tribute to a lovely man ... true: " a fool borne clown" albeit ... merely what's ... contrived image the master fool conferred ... (that) hidden entity, he li ... more

    • Rookie - 431 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (11/17/2014 1:09:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Nice write. The words, its lucidity and expressional simplicity draws the line perfect to touch a man who offers our heart to release some burdens. Valuable tribute. Thank you.

  • Rookie - 187 Points Zoila T. Flores (11/15/2014 5:50:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Oh Dear,
    ...Conscience, don't abandon me,
    Through my journey, on this day,
    Keep supporting, as you're always,
    On the wisdom, of my say...

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 187 Points Pranab K Chakraborty (11/17/2014 10:55:00 PM) Post reply

      Yes, Conscience. But to give it the steer, a strong belief, I mean philosophical stand, is quiet necessary. Otherwise instinct could misguide in disguise of conscience. Thanks for the cry.

  • Gold Star - 12,291 Points Mohammad Skati (11/15/2014 4:45:00 PM) Post reply

    I'm burning like a candle everyday / I'm looking for my hope somewhere / Me and myself are two in one / Simply because we can not be one in two / There are many horizons around me / My whole life is confused / I'm a real co-partner in torturing myself / And I'm still looking for myself / But I don't find myself / I'm still missing or I'm drowned /.................. This poem is called - Myself -.

  • Freshman - 1,297 Points Mike Acker (11/15/2014 1:35:00 PM) Post reply

    Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a great poet with us. I have checked out her writing and it is superb! Her name is Carmi Basson!

  • Rookie - 919 Points Gulsher John (11/15/2014 10:56:00 AM) Post reply

    Allure of darkness

    Farewell sweet luna;
    the queen Nyx is coming
    from the east,
    let me fade in these parting
    hours, like a candle
    burns down in the wind.
    O! when love fails, tales of the dead rise.but
    who tells her:
    love not begins but bangs...
    And symphony of the autumn breaths in my soul, but
    she says, " in darkness
    winds are silent."

    PS. needs final strokes...

  • Freshman - 1,297 Points Mike Acker (11/14/2014 6:09:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    Chinese Fan

    First, the one eye, then the other opens,
    lazily. A faint smile rolls across his face,
    as he surveys the outline of her body.

    Out of the end of the creased, crumpled, white sheets,
    her feet unfurl their crimson-painted toes
    like a Chinese fan.

    Her head lies upon his chest, her neck exposed,
    and eyes closed, while her auburn hair
    mingles with his under arm's.

    A small, gold crucifix, loose on its chain,
    hangs just above her right nipple, with a
    raised profile of a figure in agony.

    A potent hint of her perfume in his nose,
    mixed with the taste of her creamy love
    on his lips, seeps deep inside his soul.

    He couldn't imagine how, once upon a time,
    Sunday mornings were spent repenting
    for the ecstasy from this unhallowed union.

    Mike Acker

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  • Gold Star - 13,751 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (11/14/2014 8:48:00 AM) Post reply

    I read a poem about Child world written by Ray Hansel in Poemhunter co.m and it is a marvelous poem about the world of child 's world.

  • Rookie - 356 Points delilah contrapunctal (11/13/2014 8:05:00 PM) Post reply

    greetings, panoply of fictitious beings....cruise and peruse at will...just do not expect to be taken seriously, though your attempts at humorous noms des plumes are vaguely amusing...'])

  • Freshman - 1,353 Points Kay Staley (11/13/2014 9:27:00 AM) Post reply

    I recently just finished reading Its Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. Has anyone else ever read this book?If so, what did you think about it?

  • Gold Star - 13,751 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (11/13/2014 3:40:00 AM) Post reply

    Today I got a chance to read the poem of Valsa George in the pages and Poem title is Emperor penguin. Beautiful description in poetic lines that attracted me as a reader.

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