(1/3/2015 1:49:00 PM)
It feels slightly strange introducing myself in this manner.
Well, my name is Jeremy and I dipped my toe into poetry 15 years ago and the affair ended shortly afterwards. However, poetry has once more appeared on the radar (June 2014) and I plan to go in for the kill. So with all of the war talk to one side; I have been a member since October 2014 and would love for you to engage with me and enjoy my work.
Let's share ideas.
Please see below for a taster of my work.
We wandered into the cold dark forest. This seems a regular occurance. With every step the past is relived. You believe we are in a state of flux and the future is ours to shape. I believe it is a transient sense of false belief. We hold onto illogical hope. Trust was never in question. The unknown is broken. Our dactylograms are fading. We venture deeper into the forest. For a moment you lost me and my doppelganger found you. We are near the end. The end is here. You emerge from the forest and the world lost me to passion
Muhammad Farhan Ahmed
(1/1/2015 6:09:00 AM)
Do read and comment on my poem.
The lovely rain as steady as a first, amorous kiss
Is sombre without your fragrant presence
For our fervent love is as deep as an abyss
I crave to cuddle you in this icy-cold rain
The river of my life is unnourished and dry
Though it's drizzling amply to slake my soul
As droughty as the black crow flying in the sky
In seek of water to quench his profound thirst
The songs of those maidens in the gentle shower
Are as dulcet as your bell-like, honeyed voice
Your three words of love are as sweet as a flower
My heart yens to hear them again and again
The rainy day is mirthless, dreary and blue
Like the dull, colorless season of autumn
The candle of my bliss is waiting for you
To be lit up again, for it has grown dim
Kari Susanne Holmedal
(12/30/2014 1:09:00 PM)
Hi everyone I'm new.
My name is Kari Susanne Holmedal and I've been an on and off poet for the last six years.
A lot of my poetry deals with mental illness and it might not be everyones cup of team. But I would be grateful if anyone read them.
Kari Susanne Holmedal
Muhammad Farhan Ahmed
(12/28/2014 8:00:00 AM)
Read my poem and comment on it on
Roses Red, Coral, Blue
Luscious, pretty, redolent is the rose
For oft it is kissed by a butterfly
Whether it be in a poem or a prose
Beautiful ideas does the writer imply
Says the crimson one, 'I love you'
Conveys the coral desire deep
Rare but elegant too is the blue
I keep all three where I sleep
Sweet and fragrant is now my room
Embellished by roses red, coral, blue
Whenever in my garden they bloom
I smile and say, 'God, thank you! '
Muhammad Farhan Ahmed
(12/28/2014 7:57:00 AM)
Rate this poem and comment on it on http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/snow-white-and-the-seven-dwarfs-3/
Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs
On a day icy-cold, snowy and serene
Glancing through the window ebony-framed
Stitched a silk scarf a genial queen
Prickled when she her slim flat finger
Three blood drops fell upon her sewing
Gave she birth to a girl 'Snow White'
With velvety skin as fair as snow,
Luscious lips blood-red and light,
Lustrous hair as black as ebony,
Scarlet fruity cheeks soft like silk.
The girl's beauty was like none other
Grew she as pretty as a picture
But before long died her mother
And the king married once again
The new queen was ravishingly divine
A vain, o'er-dressed narcissist...
Asked she daily a mirror on the wall
'Who is the fairest of us all?'
Pride polluted her heart like venom,
Felt she grand and lordly high,
When-e'er heard she her fa'ourite reply
'O Queen, you are the fairest of all! '
But Snow White whitened as she aged,
Brighten'd her face, redden'd her cheeks
One day her stepmother got enraged
For the mirror gave a brand new reply
'O Queen, you're fair, fine, and chic,
But you need not feel so proud or high
For Snow White's beauty is sole and unique
And she is now the fairest of all! '
'Kill Snow White, bring her heart to me, '
Ordered she one of the huntsmen
'For I shall slice and savor it in glee'
Brought instead the hunter a boar's heart
For he let his prisoner flee,
With a sympathetic face, said he
'You are too young, fair, and fresh
To go the way of all flesh
Before that brutal lady finds you out,
Run to the woods and ne'er return! '
Wander'd she in the woods so dreary
To find some safe shelter to stay
She wept, sweat, and soon got weary
Spotted she at last a quaint cottage
'Seven wee tables, seven wee chairs
Seven wee candles, seven wee plates
Seven wee bedrooms upstairs,
What a queer little house is it! '
In the vacant, peculiar house
Walked she keenly to and fro
Somebody poked her aqua-blue blouse
Saw Snow White seven dwarfs behind
'Look at her skin, so fair and white! '
'Look at her hair, so sleek and dark! '
'Look at her cheeks, so rosy and bright! '
'And her lips, they're so red and light!
'Welcome to our cottage, lovely guest! '
'Oh, cute seven little men,
If you don't mind, let me stay here
For my step-mom has an evil heart
And she will not spare me, I fear...'
'Hush, dear, dwell in our house
From that sadistic woman away'
Said one of the jovial, mellow men,
For we'll keep you out of harm's way'
The queen in her castle danced with gloat
Patting herself on the back
Ask'd she her mirror on the wall
'Am I now the fairest of all?'
'O Queen, you're fair, fine, chic
But you are still number two
For in the forest where seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow White's still safe, sound and well! '
With a face as red as blood
With a will harder than granite
With a basket of apples ruby-red
Yet so poisonous, like hemlock
Headed she towards the grim woods
On a horse so resplendent and fair
That felt quite awkward and queer
To be ridden by an old hag in rags
She was so fox-cunning and wise
For it was the evil queen in disguise
Knocked she the door of the dwarf house
With a sound that made Snow White rouse
Opened she the door and smiled
At the lady, that seemed tender and kind
'I need not come in, dear child
But do try these fresh, dainty apples
For they're ripe, succulent and mild'
Finding no fault in a fruit so bright
Finding no fault in a lady so docile
Took Snow White a big bite
Shut she then her glinting, pearly eyes
That did not open ever again
The murderer with a demonic grin
Fled from the tragic death scene
As fast as a witch's broomstick
Rushed away the malicious queen,
On the floor so unblemished and pure
The dwarfs saw Snow White's body as still
As the left-ov'r toxic apple on the floor
Tried they so many revival herbs to cure
The venom poured in her virtuous heart
The days so deplorable and sad, passed by
Sobbed the seven dwarfs all day
Seeing a blurry river in the eyes
'Come back, come back' they'd just say
Put they Snow White's body so tight
In a glass-coffin ample for her to lay
Her skin was still comely and bright
Her hair still as black as ebony
Lips still lusciously red and light
Scarlet fruity cheeks still silk-soft
One stunningly scenic and bright, dulcet day
Came a bonny prince, who on a horse rode by
And stopped to see the seven dwarfs pray
'Bring Snow White back to life, O God!
And punish the queen for her sinful fraud! '
The prince pulled back his satin-smooth hair
And gazed at the girl's gorgeous figure
With his gleaming, profound, silvery eyes
To a genuine love fell he a prey
Looking at Snow White in the coffin, said he
'O My Lord! I need not pray
For my love, so amorous and deep
Is plenty for her dead soul to revive
She will wake up one day, I just know
Till then, my angelic love will thrive'
The apple piece in Snow White's throat
Jumped out miraculously, and she awoke
Opened she gently her big doll-eyes
The seven dwarfs jumped in great glee
'She's alive! She's alive! ' they cried
While Snow White to the prince eyed
'I love you too, my handsome prince
I shall be your beloved bride,
And savor the rest of my life.'
And here comes the end of the tale
Snow White became the prince's wife
She had no obstacles to face then
For the queen burst into a pile of dust
As she was cursed by the seven little men
The prince and princess lived with endless trust
And the king did not marry ever again
Muhammad Farhan Ahmed
(12/25/2014 2:53:00 AM)
Read my poem and comment on it on the following page:
'You live in a world of odd dreams, Mr. Ahmed
Putting queer imaginations to mere fancy words
Bejeweled by baffling metaphors and similes
That one mightn't get the hang of with ease
Why don't you eschew the pesky rhyme rule,
As D.H Lawrence and Walt Whitman did?
Switch to chaste, free-verse poetry instead
Of having a big, sentimental, slushy head'
'I neither live in Lawrence's nor Whitman's planet
For I dwell in my own enchanted, poetic world
Rhyme-less poems are no delight to me, Mr. Paul
Poems and paragraphs aren't alike, after all
Whether a writer rhymes, ruminates, or not
That depends entirely on the poet's taste
A poem is a splendent verse, an alluring art
An inner voice, a majestic vision of the heart'
(12/24/2014 1:36:00 AM)
Hello everybody my name is Hugh Everard
I am returning after illness slowed me down (Parkinsons)
I can still contribute but friends and family do my typing
You will find me on poems and comedy forum
(12/21/2014 4:17:00 PM)
Hello all, my name is Demi and I've been a poet for the past five years. I write from my heart and accept constructive criticism well. In my private life I love my furrchildren and my other artistic as well as literary talents. In the area of poetry, it's dark and macabre. It can be very depressive too. In order to enjoy it, it has to be your cup of tea. The poem I present is " Memories" . It was written back in January of 2013.
Memories by Demi
There are these things inside of me… they are every man’s disease.
Some have it worse than others, some kill, and some please…
There are many causes of this disease, some are good and some are bad.
Others know how to control it, while it drives the rest of them mad.
Mine manifests me; it keeps me up at night.
Nothing drives the darkness away, not even the morning light.
Sleep doesn’t cure it, and time makes it worse.
Talking doesn’t help; it just causes tears to burst.
This disease drives in hopes and dreams; it drives them out as well.
The truth lies in god they say but I dismiss the lies they tell.
This is a burden to the soul, a detriment to the mind.
This disease never gets better; it only gets worse with time.
The infected hosts of this world want to see no one pure.
Only the deceased knows where to find the cure.
This disease kills the mind, body, and soul.
My body feels crippled and my soul has aged old.
Some days I feel like I can rise but I’m soon shown reality.
I thought I could be happy for once, how stupid and foolish of me.
When I lay down sometimes, I can feel lesions.
They come from the humans, not spirits or demons.
Every day I lay here badgered by torment, every day I lay here and cry.
But no one hears my sorrow, my pain or my sighs.
I tried to smile yesterday, I had no reason to but I wanted to see if it would work.
I tried to turn the corners upward I stopped because it hurt.
But in this moment, this time, I can just lay on my side.
Maybe one of these days I’ll get lucky and roll over and die.
I have been crucified, but I don’t have the luxury to die, I have to sit and suffer.
In this disease I’ll die for no one’s sins, not even my own mother.
But as I sit here, a rotting vegetable, you see your enemies every time you close your eyes.
They are your memories.
(12/20/2014 10:13:00 AM)
glad to join poemhunter. i learn to write good poems..
and here my first post, look for the feedback
Swept The Sound in The Night
and the Moon
behind the wall clock
swept the sound
in The Night
for a Bandit
pull out from
' Hello Hello How Low?' 3x
Dooor! ! !
me and the Moon nyengir
wrapped in the tongue-cloth
think thrice to play your pistol at midnight,
or your baby beside
Muhammad Farhan Ahmed
(12/20/2014 3:37:00 AM)
My name is Farhan Ahmed. I'm a keen, sensitive poet, and I use the power of my heart to write poetry. Whatever I write is based on my imagination. I write poetry when my heart and my inner voice forces me to write. Feel free to comment on my poems.
Let me share one of my poems:
A Mother's Loneliness
There, stood alone she, desolated in tears...
Remained her eyes drizzly over the years.
Every day and night, doleful was she,
A blur was all what she could see...
'My son, my son, why did you die?!
The river of my life has become dry! '
Mournful years passed by...
Until dreamt she of bright candles,
Held by childern high.
On the back, saw she one with a dim light,
It was her son, wistful was he quite.
'Your tears dowsed it, dimmed it,
Your rue stabbed my litte heart
O Mother, why did you fall apart?'
Comment of the Day
life o' MEAT and
shifting with juncture demands
i'm checking for a loose ...