Poetics and Poetry Discussion
(12/16/2014 11:33:00 AM)
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Well! I must say, somebody took Max to the woodshed didn't they?Nice poem!Replies for this message:
(12/22/2014 8:51:00 AM)
Well, okay then. Merry Christmas. Max too.
... Dog God 8hate
(12/22/2014 5:07:00 AM)
. . the clumsy menace, couldn't stay on the wall ... it was an inhabitable toil ... rather livid ... the verdure - lost in dowdy disaster And? maybe the Kingdom's united, in its ... more
(12/16/2014 10:07:00 PM)
Well, the'Max' poem is gone. Is that PH or the author?It's a shame there's such weak individuals out there with no sense of humor, and egos like stained glass. I liked that poem. It wasn't great, but ... more
- The Pundit (12/22/2014 8:51:00 AM) Post reply
(12/16/2014 1:43:00 AM)
When you see your friends smile,
Can you not help but smile along?
And when they are feeling down,
Can you not help but feel down too?
For friendship is the common ground on which we gel,
This we know only too well.
(12/15/2014 6:45:00 PM)
Who writes the wackiest posts on the forum?Pranab or Sean North?Sean gets the nod for creativity, but Pranab, with his Beckettian ability to confound, should get his fair share of votes. Merry Christmas to both of them, and their clitoris'! !
Pranab K Chakraborty
(12/14/2014 12:38:00 AM)
Quiet brilliant the codes to apply but so hazy, really undone to get its access.
(12/12/2014 8:16:00 PM)
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Into the Wild
The sitting sun, wrestling
with the clouds, and
kindles the sky
with pale reds; and snaps
her glory, loitering in the wild.
But i see winters in
her smiles, often synced in tears.
O, this world is like a belly
of beast, spouting acid
into love and peace.
The time crept by
slowly, still her innocence
trances my dreams. And I
can hear her whisperings endlessly
walk on the barren moors.
Gangadharan Nair Pulingat
(12/12/2014 8:25:00 AM)
Today I read the poem Tree of Joyce Kilmer. Unfortunately I was not so much heard about this great poet who has gone for ever in world war in such an younger age of 31. His biography states. I found his poems so realistic and beautiful in all respects. A great poetic mind.
(12/12/2014 2:02:00 AM)
do not be bound by anything. the secret to writing a good poem is that there is no secret
Ken E Hall
(12/10/2014 1:19:00 AM)
Just read a comment on one of my poems looked at the guys page and his comment list...low and behold his comments where the same for other poets poems...he was using copy and paste tactic if he does not change his ways everyone will know his name.
(12/9/2014 9:59:00 PM)
Look upon this world
With the eyes of a child
And see everything as it was meant to be
(12/9/2014 11:46:00 AM)
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Halfway through the pane of glass,
still making gaslight eyes at Maud
a leer crawled across your face.
William Butler Yeats looked like he
was going to cream your skinny
and you were glad Einstein was right
about the Time-Space continuum
because now you can bust a beer
over Bill’s noggin. The pub became pell-mell,
time slowing down like sap inside a frosty
It was 1916 like it’s always been 1916
with shattering glass twinkled against
street lamps, Maude’s jacket slightly
I guess most times you’ll land over there
with the dandelions stuck in cracked
sidewalks trying to tickle your bloody
nose.Replies for this message:
(12/15/2014 10:16:00 AM)
1916 was a great year i need to go back there sometime in the Spring. i can't decide between that year or 1784.... but whatever has good toast. speaking of toast i'll toast to this wacked out ... more
(12/10/2014 9:15:00 PM)
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I like " rimpled" ......anyway.....I placed my dreams under your feat.... g
- Mandolyn ... (12/15/2014 10:16:00 AM) Post reply
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