(12/1/2011 5:54:00 AM)
I am a passionate writer, most of my writings are about emotions, learnings and imagination.
Please take a moment to read them and post me your thoughts.
thanks so much
(11/30/2011 1:56:00 AM)
I am an amateur writer and a raw poet.
i love poetry, writing and nature.Though my writing is still in d stages on its infancy.I also blog.I do have a blog.I found this site few months back and since then i have been posting my poems.I hope with time and my writings will become more refined.
(11/29/2011 4:02:00 AM)
Firstly, I must admit that I'm a novice when it comes to the art of poetry, but I am also it's fervent student. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Joseph Sauroford, born and raised in Berkshire, I have a love for classical novels and economic history. I have recently started writing poetry as a means of expressing my emotions, be it joy or misery, and will start to upload them onto this website. I have been greatly influenced through my childhood by my upbringing and Dumasian romanticism and I hope that these views will be well portrayed throughout my future poems.
I would like to thank the reader for their time in reading my introduction and hope that you will continue on and read my first poem, entitled 'Thanks to her'.
(11/27/2011 8:49:00 AM)
Wow Really New To This Site But Have Been Writn Poetry A Whilee Tho I Usually Writee Best When Im In The Moment or Just What I See
She Layed There
Confused and wondering Were this feeling is coming from
Hurt and destroyed
Yett feelings of bliss
She Shattered like glass and fell
Wanting that feeling to express
But stress of what would happen next
She closed her eyes and soon it was over
free of connection
But vexed of the man who made her
Thats Just random poem But Thanks For reading..
(11/20/2011 5:06:00 AM)
This sounds like sum sorta AA club.lol. Anyway hi everyone, im Athandile Gqoba and most of the poetry I write is based on my life and some of the tough stuff I've been through. I'm just hoping someone out there can relate to them as much as I do or more. Here's one. Let me know what you think. Take care.
Tears from a dejected heart
My heart whispers a blue melody As it stares in the mirror and darkness is reflected Pain and agony cover any hope for rescue I am all alone
Scarlet tears race down my chicks, life oozes from between my lips And blood raptures from the gates of my nails As I beg you not to leave, not to leave me alone
I am kneeling, uttering an unheard petition; What will it take to bring you back?
So my heart whispers a blue melody As it stares in the mirror and darkness is reflected Pain and agony cover any hope for rescue As I beg you not to leave, not to leave me alone
(11/2/2011 6:15:00 PM)
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My Name is Kaila George, I found this site a few months back, and have been posting many of my poems that I have already pre-written, some I do on the spure of the moment....let me demonstrate:
She was a child with a broken heart
who knew not how to speak
broken winged and torn in two
she dragged her wounded pride
inside the body of a child
Not knowing who could teach
she lay dormant in her sleep
then one day she learnt to read
which gave her the power to speak
I had no idea that there was so many wonderful poets out there, at times I think dare I submit, I was born and raised in New Zealand, but my parents are of Cook Island decent, I've only been writing for around six years, use to think I was no good at writing, but others say otherwise. I love this site, you get to see so many other poems, so many other aspects of life...its amazing, I’m like a child with a toy...or on a fieldtrip...ready to explore...sorry excited...I’ve never published a book of poem before in my life, would love to...I have enough to do so....grins...sorry...but I don’t even know where to start...When I write my poems, I write from experience, or I try to understand what others see, and put in words for others to understand, so I like to think, but I have also seen things like so many in life, that teaches us to early in life how to be…we think we know so much when young…sorry babbling, time make my leave…hope you enjoy the read…and I will be reading as many as I can when I am online.
Thank You For Your Time.
(10/26/2011 6:06:00 AM)
Hello i am new to poetry, having been terrible at english language, i am attempting learn from the poetry i am writing, please comment on my work, harsh critique is the only way to improve
Here is one of my first attempts at a poem, called 'life in the page'
Wonderful it is to me, to see a book thats writ,
with sense of upheld elegance, and otherworldly wit.
The words and prose, of writers gone, but rarely writers living.
fills me with a sense of joy, these books just keep on giving.
But how I feel about these words, is rarely worth expressing
it is the style of written word, which i find most impressing.
J R Tolkien had a gift, Charles D.ickens had the same.
But William Shakespeare, above them both, would put them all to shame.
The gift they had, I tell you now, injecting life to page.
Expressing subtle nuances, like jealousy and rage.
To give the characters the gift of life, is really quite inspired.
And I still think of Romeo, and how that all transpired.
have you ever tried to word, the subtleties of pain.
trying in a vain attempt to describe a mans disdain
well if you have... i know I've tried, and failed to unseen laughter
just keep in mind the three old names, are names of English masters
So now I have said, all there is to say, on this important matter.
I said my piece, and only so, the masters, I can flatter.
It is much more than just the words, which is the remarkable thing.
more profound than all of this, is the order those words are in.
This is the kind of poem which amuses me, i prefer the play of words over the actual subject matter
(10/25/2011 9:26:00 AM)
Shafiqul Islam, Poet & Lyricist of Bangladesh Radio and Television.Also Human Rights Activist.Ex Metropolitan Magistrate.Now Deputy Secretary @ Govt.Bd.
Awarded 'Bangladesh Porishod Literature Award'& 'Nazrul Gold Medal Award' for his poetic excellence.
Written some books of poetry...
'Tobu O Bristy Asuk' 'Srabon Diner Kabbo' 'Megh Bhanga Ruddur' 'Dohon Kaler Kabbo'.
published by Agamee Prakashani,36 bangla bazar, Dhaka-1100.
phone: 7111332,7110021 Mobile: 01819219024
visit: http: //www.prothom-aloblog.com/blog/sfk808
(10/24/2011 2:17:00 PM)
Hello everyone, My name is Jeremiah Walton. I've been writing poetry for as long as I can remember. I've performed my poetry once and just started practicing slam poetry. Here is an example of some of my poetry, It's titled 'Don't Disturb the Dead Bird'
Don't disturb the dead bird
It's dry cry goes unheard
Poked at by sticks broken off a nearby rotted tree
Near its body underneath the marquee
With young knuckles wrapped around its imagined hilt
Its body tossed like a rag doll embossed
With cheap black tattered imitation leather
The slick tick of time on rain pattered feathers
A charred cheap treasure
With cracked wings amongst other small things
Pulled joints, and ligaments, tied with bodily strings
It will never be buried, only spat at
Small children squek 'look at that! '
And run off giggling with their swords
Pretending to be ladies and lords
At my website http: //nostroviatowriting.com, you can enter the Poem of the Week contest, submit your writing (poetry, short stories, prose) and art to the forums, and read and listen to the writings of Jeremiah Walton.
(10/18/2011 4:09:00 PM)
Hello to all, My name is Sascha Mueller-Brown, but alex is my pen name. I've been writing poetry for a few years now but i never han anyone read it. I just posted The World Is A Stage and i hope some of you will read it and tell me if its any good, i need all the help i can get. If you cant find it on the site, here it is
The World Is A Stage
The world is a stage, and the innocent are the players
It's run by the greedy and the corrupt
The music is made of sirens, and the screams of injustice
The lights are made from fires burning all the good
The players are like puppets, or maybe even slaves
The crowd is made of all the people who bring evil to the world
They curse and laugh and throw things at the players
The shards of glass and pain and hurt come falling down in layers
The find their mark and cut and kill some of the unlucky players
They never once open their eyes and some even wear masks
No one knows why they do, but no one ever asks
They wear the mask so they don’t see who brings them hurt
And as long as they're on they really seem to work
The one man rises from the crowd, because he knew their hurt
For he was once upon the stage and treated just like dirt
As he defends those on the stage
The crowd grows with a terrible rage
They break the man who did what’s right and throw him on the stage
The crowd cheers for them to fight, like animals in a cage
The only beast are in the crowd, laughing at their brother
Cause when he is on the stage, he is part of all the others
But the players on the stage look out for one another
The show will finally come to end, and the crowd will soon disperse
And leave the players the most broken and alone, in the universe
A person can usually tell a player from the crowd
Only when they're one themselves do they speak a loud
Even though they have been beat they're better people than most
They never hurt, or scream or cry, They'll never even boast
Even if you’re not a player don't be one of the crowd
And if you are a lonesome player, then you should be proud
Because the only people you can trust are players
And you can never trust the crowd
To all my fellow players on the stage I thank you for being true
and know that all the players will always be there for you