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  • Rookie - 193 Points Sandip Goswami (1/13/2014 2:07:00 PM) Post reply
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    ONLY FOR YOU

    Known, nothing will be written about me
    In any poem, story or essay

    Known, will not receive any co-operation from Governments
    Any honest or dishonest award...

    Nobody will burn incense on the day of my death
    Except my wife!

    Nobody will celebrate my birthday
    My birthday celebration will not happen...

    Although I am walking...thinking...creating...

    Only for You....Only for You...
    Only for You...My dream future...
    SANDIP GOSWAMI

  • Rookie - 193 Points Sandip Goswami (1/13/2014 2:06:00 PM) Post reply

    God And Woman (English & Bengali)

    God And Woman

    I did not want anything from The Almighty
    Sacrificed untouchable realization
    Which is symbol of myself
    And dedicated emotions, silence.

    I did not demand anything from the woman
    Allowed her into the corner of my mind
    Which is the center of bleeding
    And presented my intuition.

    The Almighty and the woman repeatedly call
    Destruction in my lonely life
    It's the ability to do more by them...

    ????? ??? ????

    ??? ??????? ???? ???? ??? ??
    ?????? ????? ?? ???????
    ???? ?????? ??? ??? ??? ??????
    ?? ???? ????, ???????

    ??? ????? ????? ???? ??? ??
    ??? ???? ???? ?? ???????
    ????????? ???? ??? ??????
    ?? ???? ????????

    ????? ??? ???? ???? ??????????
    ?????? ????? ???? ???
    ?? ???? ?????? ?????? ???? ????
    SANDIP GOSWAM

  • Rookie - 1 Points Ian Jobst (1/13/2014 12:30:00 PM) Post reply

    I am Ian C. Jobst, and am fourteen years old. This poem was written in response to Edgar Allen Poe's Birth Day

    My Nefarious Love

    My nefarious love
    Angel wings of a dove
    Velvet voice tethered fell
    My heart yearning
    none other quell
    Yet behind ye fa├žade
    and thy honeyed skin
    lies a soul of evil and sin
    Yet in ponderance I wonder
    If oureth love shall end asunder
    Yet just then my eyes caught
    upon gleam of light
    I beheld on my nightly vigil
    a grave and dear fright
    Yet Just as it I beheld
    did my eyes grow dim
    And so it was that
    my mistress my heart
    Took out my own
    and sliced it apart
    As blood pooled cross
    my lifeless chest
    I became but a soul,
    a wraith of no delight
    And call terror to her own though it be black as night
    And so I haunt her
    my mistress my heart
    I gave unto my mistress
    And she tore me apart

    Ian Jobst

  • Rookie - 0 Points James T. Karam (1/12/2014 11:41:00 PM) Post reply

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    Salem Willows, Ma



    When I was young in my time
    my family would take me to
    Salem Willows in the summertime.

    Oh those fond memories of Chop Suey at the Chine man place,
    he who once gave me a Mickey Mouse spoon, bright an shine, but lost in time,
    and with his pepper steak and the wonderful pop corn it was all just to fine.

    Memories of that time all gone now,
    in my old age here in El Paso, Texas
    I still smell the Salem Willows ocean in my mind
    and see my self playing on the rocks by the wooden pier...

    Many walks around the park,
    it was always picnic time...

    Oh how I long and miss you Willows,
    you bring back my many happy time

    Thank You...

  • Rookie Justin Pierce (1/12/2014 12:18:00 AM) Post reply

    I cannot ever be who you are
    My heroes have been heads of family
    Started their own businesses
    Controlled their own destinies
    I am a follower
    My dreams come in second to legacy
    I do not match up in faith
    I fall short in every aspect
    I can only lead my own children
    And I know that I will be found
    Even there, lacking
    I only want to be there for you
    I wait still for that time to come
    I love you and respect you more than life
    I hop
    e you are not disappointed that it is I
    Who make the final decisions

  • Rookie Noel Ofuyatan (1/10/2014 1:36:00 PM) Post reply

    FRIENDS
    Friends are the best
    They always put you first
    If i tell you the rest
    Then maybe you will confess
    That friends are the best

    I might have enemies
    But at least i can see
    That you are with me
    And if you need anything
    Just know you can count on me

    If there was a door and i had the key
    Just Know its for you and me
    If i should give you anything
    Just know its for free
    I LOVE MY FRIENDS

  • Rookie John Long (1/10/2014 1:06:00 PM) Post reply

    Her eyes were like olives
    her hair like straw
    each word spoken was wind
    and her hands felt like plastic.

  • Rookie Jesiah Mendoza (1/10/2014 11:06:00 AM) Post reply

    HEAR MY CRY
    You are as beautiful as a flower, only if you would shower and change that doh care informal attire.Yes! that would be such an honour for mother and father my dear..What a disgrace but look at her face when I tell her she's as sour as bad grapes, she's continuously pouting and giving me this doubting feeling.But look at her mother can't she control her.Oh goosh give the poor woman a break.This little girl needs to learn that she's a burden and to swirl and get out of my face.

  • Rookie - 42 Points Mary Amrutha (1/9/2014 6:46:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I am not lost

    My mind being empty
    and it is hard to write something
    from an empty mind.
    Where did all the letters go?
    where did all the words go?
    what I can find inside me is nothing
    but an empty soul

    who stole the things
    that I had in my mind,
    I don't know!
    but it is all gone,
    that is what I thought
    I thought it is gone for ever
    but it is not.

    I can,
    I still can
    write something
    I can talk about things
    which I thought that I'll never remember
    I can still speak up my mind.
    I still can write from my mind.
    I am happy that I am not lost...
    Mary Amrutha

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 42 Points Martin Yeboah (1/12/2014 2:34:00 PM) Post reply

      I love the contradiction in this poem. The title i am not lost even though the first stanza clearly reveals that the poet is lost! ! (empty mind, hard to write, empty soul) . But in the end, the poet ... more

  • Rookie Amudipe Opeyemi Marcus (1/9/2014 12:18:00 AM) Post reply

    Insatiable Minds
    Stories long gone of wonders untold
    Tales ages gone of blunders unfold
    Lost memories of beauty centuries gone
    Different pages of mysteries unravelled
    Through years of diverse evolution
    From man's ever continuing journey
    From homo Eretus to his homo sapien
    Diverse species of ideas hath he gathered
    Leaving so much to be refined
    As the numbers of years keeps growing
    Seasoned ideas blessed with seasoned
    brains
    Hath doth emerged, all to our marvel
    Rooted to the ground are we at their fruits
    But thirsty are we for new glories
    Leaving so much ground to be covered.
    Call the inner man in us OLIVER TWIST
    'nd i will bring in an enclyclopedia of fact to
    support it
    A never ending well hath he to keep his
    laurels
    A life long task which must be pursued
    Only to be left behind at the Owls call.

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