~ Poetry In Motion ~

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Forestgreen FACE="Comic Sans MS">I know I am real new to "Ageless", but it's just my nature to jump in and get involved with a group if I like it.
And I do like it here very much.

Would it be ok if we had a thread for poetry? I am a writer so I gravitate to poetry and have read in a few threads here at "Ageless" that some of the other members like poetry too.
I figured why not start a thread just for that.
Poems.

I wasn't sure where to place the thread, but thought "Relationship Support" might be a good spot.

I have my poems on webpages, so will just leave the links to them here.
I am hoping others will share what they have written or share some poetry they especially like or has special meaning to them.

The poem I am leaving here is one I wrote in regard to how I feel about where I live and being out in nature.
I have written love poems too, but don't want to start off too serious here.

Hope others will enjoy this thread.
Please share your writing and or poems that you feel are extra meaningful.

Here's my poem: </FONT>

<a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/SageP1.html target=_blank>The Mist And Her Song</a>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Forestgreen FACE="Comic Sans MS">Okay, here is one more.
I call it my signature poem in regard to a place I was in life.
Has deep meaning to me as a woman.

Don't worry, I promise not to get carried away in leaving my writes here.
I do hope to see some poetry from others though!
:) </FONT>

<a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/Room.html target=_blank>The Room</a>

I loved your words....don't stop writing...you are an artist:) Express your heart as much as you need to through your poetry, and share it with us!

hugs!

I tried a poetry thread a while back and it kind of died. Let's keep this one going! As you can tell from my sig, I love poetry! I know several others here who do too! So maybe a poetry thread will survive now. I thought it would be such a nice thing to be able to log on and read a lovely poem everyday. YAY to you Sage! (Of course you know what they say..."great minds think alike") :D


SEASCAPE
By Laura Kimberley Brown

In my paradise I sit and dream along the shore.
Sun-warmed shoulders feel so good, and yet I still want more.
The sky must be the deepest blue, if it is to please,
Filled with bone-white gulls, and the lazy drone of bees.
Cool sea breezes twine themselves around the tall dune grass,
Then a star or two appears as delicate as glass.
I sit in perfect peace as the sky deepens it's hue -
The only thing more sweet than this is when I look at you.

If I could describe the true perfection of your eyes!
They would make ordinary the bluest of all skies.
Thought I love the sun, I must admit it is the case,
I'd take a thousand rainy days to look upon your face.
Your sweet and gentle nature, that makes you who you are,
Is more compelling to me than the most brilliant of stars.
When others look at you, I'm sure they just see a man,
But I see a heart and soul more infinite than sand.

The point that I am making in my shy and fumbling way
Is that my only wish is that you'd find a way to stay.
So hide the sky, the stars, the beach, and every buzzing bee.
Hide them all, My Dear, but please don't hide yourself from me.

http://www.cutegifs.blogger.com.br/minicute34.gif


EDIT:P.S. green is my favorite color font as you can see from my sig too! :) In fact, green is my favorite color period.

I am so pleased that this poetry thread is a welcome one!

Thank you Special K-
I'm glad you liked my poetry.
I do plan on adding a poem here everyday.
Some days it might be other author's poetry, but mainly mine.


Tru-
Let's keep this poetry thread alive!
I loved the poem you shared. Very nice.
Green is my favorite color too!


Babes-
Thanks for sharing your poem too!
I like!
I do hope you share more in the future.


Writing is such a great outlet. I have tried to encourage my kids to write as much as they can and each of them have dabbled in poetry over the years. I have kept every word they have written, (of course). I started writing when I was 10 years old and it has been my saving grace over the years.


I do hope this thread can stay alive! That is why I called it "Poetry In Motion".
:)

Her fire.


I feel her fire.
It burns deep within
When I think of her
I just can't hold it in

I feel her fire.
With it my desire grows
Will my feelings go anywhere
Who really knows.

I feel her fire
Memories of her kiss burns
I try to pull away
But to her my heart turns

I feel her fire
But I know she's gone
If she only knew
How easy she turns me on


No wonder that girl didn't want anything to do with me.


That poem is SOOO cheezy.

LOL
Thanks for sharing Haunted.
It's not that bad....
I have read much worse at the poetry boards and groups I have joined on the net.

I think anyone who takes the time to wrtie down their feelings should be commended.
A for effort Haunted!

Hi Sage,

I too have many times tried to encourage a Poetry forum - but all to no avail. Thanks for starting this thread. Two web sites I'm addicted to....this one, and the poetry site I belong to. I'll be back in a minute and copy and paste one of mine.
__________________________________________

Sunday morning poet -
a weeks worth of written
transgressions,
black and blue inked
Sins,
still wet
still unconfessed.

Whatever became of
Blotting-Paper Priests
to press down on
words impurities,
drink up
literary offences, and
administer absolution.

Gillian

Here is a poem I wrote for Smiwi about 4 months ago. I am NO poet and NOT terribly creative (I'm a finance person...could it get any worse?)

Dreaming of My Lover

I sail on the ocean of loss and torment
Precariously guiding myself towards harbored love
Threatening skies of lingering doubt and lovers past
Attempted lure of hearts focused desire

My lover's outstretched arms grasp beyond
Pulling us both in
Wrapping us both in heat of yearning and satisfied ache
Consumed and unspent passion entwine our destiny

My oldest daughter is so incredibly talented. Maybe I'll post one or two of hers if I get permission ;)

Like Marcy, I don't consider myself a poet... but a few years back I was feeling creative and tried my hand at it.

"Promises" was inspired by another poem that I had read called "Night's Children" by Zana.

"The Night is My Lover", I think, was influenced by Type O Negative lyrics that I was listening to at the time.

"Fetish" was written in order to enter a poetry contest to get free turns for my online game. Since I have a passing interest in BDSM and my other poems were too long to meet the criteria of the contest, I whipped this one up.

Poetry by Flytrapp (http://home.comcast.net/~vamps/vamps/poetry.html)

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Forestgreen FACE="Comic Sans MS">Gillian-
I loved your poem and hope you will share more of your talent with us! I really liked the flow of your write.

Marcy-
For a "finance" person, you write well. I like your poem a lot and it's such a great thing to take the time and write down how we feel about someone we love. Please do share with us again!

Flytrapp-
Thanks for leaving the link to your poetry. I am very drawn to your style of writing and thank you for sharing.

I am leaving a link for tonight's poem from me. I will leave a new poem every evening.

</FONT><a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/Lantern.html target=_blank>The Lantern</a>

Ok here is my poem/song, I wanna send to the Dixie Chicks:

SMILE OF STONE
You left me all alone
I wore a smile of stone
I put on an act,
I laughed at the facts.
Now you would never know
How far this girl has flown
I would never let you see
the hurt you brought to me.

Chorus:
Now I'm feeling fine
You can't waste My time
Now I am clearly free
Like I was meant to be,
and I don't stand alone
and theres no smile of stone
Yeah theres no smile of, no smile of stone.

I got stronger everyday
I looked better everyday,
No more smiles of stone
This girl is on her own.
You were just one, I know
I am glad you let me go,
I no longer stand alone
I no longer smile in stone.

Chorus:

The time for me is here
To let you go my dear,
Time has made me heal
My smile is now real
No more hiding facts
its time I just relax
It doesn't hurt me your gone
the fact is you were wrong

Now I'm feeling fine
You can't waste My time
Now I am clearly free
Like I was meant to be,
and I don't stand alone
and theres no smile of stone
Yeah theres no smile of,
no smile of stone.

Lyrics By:
TammyAnn Mitchell
7/6/2002
Copyright

Tammy, you're talented! I didn't know you wrote songs, too!

http://www.cutegifs.blogger.com.br/solzinho.gif

Has anyone ever been so moved by a piece of artwork that you wrote poetry about it? I have. And if I ever get up the guts, I'll post my poems about it one of these days!! :)

Originally posted by Genevieve
Has anyone ever been so moved by a piece of artwork that you wrote poetry about it? I have. And if I ever get up the guts, I'll post my poems about it one of these days!! :)

GET UP THE GUTS GIRLFRIEND! I know your posts are lovely and I bet your poems are awesome!!! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!

Great job Tammy!
DO send and let us know what happens!!
I would love to hear your words put to music.


Genevieve -
I have been so moved by nature, a view or a certain place, that I have written about it, but not a peice of artwork (yet).
I would love to read your poem and hope you share it with us!

The title of this painting is called Slipping into Darkness. When I first saw it, something about it struck me deeply. I know it sounds very strange. I bought the print. This painting is in my living room and people who are not aware of my feelings about it have unknowingly made comments that would freak you out! Here are the two poems I wrote about it some years ago. Perhaps they are more meandering thoughts. In my poems, I fancied that perhaps he is a spirit on the "other side". I guess I find poetry somewhat personal and thus my doubts about posting.. but here goes!

Slipping into Darkness

He is the most intriguing man I have ever seen
And he's not even real.
The figment of an artists imagination.
His people, his way of life
Slipping into Darkness

I wonder what he is thinking
On the wall, in the house
Of a lonely woman on the worn edge of youth
Slipping into Darkness

He is the perfect lover.
He will never hurt her, leave her,
Never deceive her.
He will protect her, provide for her, love her
Die for her.

To dream of being with him in that painting
Slipping into Darkness.


The next poem is his response..

Toward the Light

She calls to me
But I cannot come.
She is flesh
I am spirit.

She doesn't understand that we are one,
That we have loved many times
In many ways
Through many lifetimes.

She yearns for me
But I cannot come
She is flesh
I am spirit.

She doesn't understand why she is there
And I am here.
Yet I am always with her.
I have visited her in dreams.

She weeps for me
But I cannot come.
She is flesh
I am spirit

I will be the first to greet her
At the end of her life's journey.
She will remember. She will understand.
No longer flesh, but spirit.
Together again we will go
Toward the Light.




http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-9/371358/slipping.jpg

Those are beautiful! I loved reading them! I knew they would be awesome! Thanks for sharing!

You are right about the personal nature of poetry. I have a friend who is an artist and he has a hard time pricing his paintings. He says he worries that if he loves the painting and prices it too high someone might think he is foolish. He then worries that if he prices them too low he is giving them away. He gave me some of my favorites as he could not price them. He would not let me offer either because of the same worry of insult! He now has a broker/manager type person who handles those details!

Keep writing!

http://cutegifs.blogger.com.br/crianca5.gif

Here is my write to share for today.

This particular poem was written after I got into a rather heated discussion with a person about religion.
I don't like people telling me what I should and should not believe or dictainting to others how they should be in order to "get into heaven".


I wrote this in about 10 minutes and ironically, it is one write of mine that has gained me the most attention towards my writing skills from those that are in the "Biz".

There is no music and no graphics for a reason.



<a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/Observe.html target=_blank>Observing</a>

Originally posted by Genevieve
The title of this painting is called Slipping into Darkness. When I first saw it, something about it struck me deeply. I know it sounds very strange. I bought the print. This painting is in my living room and people who are not aware of my feelings about it have unknowingly made comments that would freak you out! Here are the two poems I wrote about it some years ago. Perhaps they are more meandering thoughts. In my poems, I fancied that perhaps he is a spirit on the "other side". I guess I find poetry somewhat personal and thus my doubts about posting.. but here goes!

Genevieve-
I really enjoyed your poetry - very thoughtful words.
Offering the contrasting poems was a treat and it is such a creative way to express everything that you have gained and felt from the painting!
Thank you so much for sharing!

I want you to be happy.
But I don't know how.

I want you to be content
Where can I help you find it???

I want you to feel loved.
I can't fulfill that need.

I want you to be satisfied.
I'll try to find him for you.

I want you to feel the sweetest things.
But, I only have the words.

I want you to be with the true love.
I can only watch and hope.

I want you to attain your dreams.
I have to let you go.

Most importantly.


I WANT YOU
But, I don't have the heart.

Originally posted by haunted
I want you to be happy.
But I don't know how.

I want you to be content
Where can I help you find it???

I want you to feel loved.
I can't fulfill that need.

I want you to be satisfied.
I'll try to find him for you.

I want you to feel the sweetest things.
But, I only have the words.

I want you to be with the true love.
I can only watch and hope.

I want you to attain your dreams.
I have to let you go.

Most importantly.


I WANT YOU
But, I don't have the heart.


That is so lovely haunted. I can FEEL the emotion and that is what good writing should do. Thank you for posting that!

_____________________________________________


http://www.cutegifs.blogger.com.br/rack_halloween.gif

I knew it....so many talented writers here! Really enjoyed reading all of the work posted.
___________________________

Voice

I am in love
with a voice.

So, some would say,
was Saint Joan
who died believing
she had no choice
but to listen.

Gillian

Once again, I loved reading the selection of poems for today!
(Would love to see more of them here!)


Haunted-
I loved the last line of your write.
It brought it all together.
Hope you share more!

Gillian-
Great.
Amazing how just a few words can relay so much.


Hope to maybe see more poetry left here as time goes on.
Don't be shy!

Here is my poetry selection for today
:)

<a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/Afternoon.html target=_blank>Late Afternoon</a>

Feminism

Questions always torture-
Like when they asked the nurtured child
Why she never has enough
The world owing her another
Dollar another scoop of vanilla
Another hug, secret, murder...
Like when they asked the dieing mother
Why she never did any better
The world owing her another
Good day another career
Another thanks, quiet, criminal...
Like when they asked the confused woman
Why she never bothered to conform
The world owing her another
Dream another sheet against the wind
Another coupon, silent, injustice...
Like when they asked me
What it meant to be a female
The world owes me another
Dime another fame
Another choice, voice, leader
Another poison, a pause to noise, a can
And...
Another...lasting...neverending...answer


~Sarah Ginsberg
(My brilliant 17yo daughter)

Your poems are lovely, and I am sure you will be published one day! It is morning but I was transported to the afternoon whilst reading your poem. So warm...I loved it.

http://www.cutegifs.blogger.com.br/minicute384.gif

and thanks to all who enjoyed my little diddy.
Great thread Sage, and Gen, I absolutely loved your words to the painting, wonderful!

Here is a little one I wrote:

Life idea

Things only get better
not many get worse,
The life that you live
is not deemed a curse.
We take what we need
and reap what we sow,
when things turn out bad
we already know, That.....
We need to do good
and get rid of the past,
for a lifetime of goodness
is the thing that will last.
Copyright ©2003 Tammy Mitchell

I'm searching for that door.
Where can it be???
Did I begin my search too late???
Will I find the key???

Who is waiting on the other side???
Will it be friend or foe??
I can't believe I've made it this far.
How much further do I have to go.

Did I find "her"???
The one whom I love
I can't find out
But only with help from above.

My searching, my groping
I can't understand the pain
Where my eyes can't see it
The picture should be plain

Will I find my answers
From someone here
I hope I do
I hold so many here dear.

Several ladies have my heart here
But they will never know it
I cannot feel their feelings
So I will NEVER show it.

I am greatly impressed by all the poetry here. SnowP I loved that last one.. words so true. Haunted, I know how ya feel sometimes. Great thread, I hope we keep it going with more beautiful words and feelings.

With each passing day
I'm losing my sanity

She's out there whispering
But, I can't see her face.

The woman of mystery
Yet a woman I've known

She has gone to someone better
A stranger with faulty words

I can't see her face
Yet she appears in my dreams

I remember her soft body
I remember the pain I've felt from it

Desire's fire has left
Leaving the frozen heart

Will she find her way back
Was she ever here

The answer is yes
In my heart, she is trapped
Yet she is gone

With each passing day
I've lost the one who breathed life
Yet took my energy, my resistance.

Marcy~
Thanks so much for sharing your daughter's poem!
She has some talen there and I hope she never stops writing.

"Like when they asked me
What it meant to be a female
The world owes me another
Dime another fame
Another choice, voice, leader
Another poison, a pause to noise, a can
And...
Another...lasting...neverending...answer"

I love these ending lines she wrote.
Please share her writes with us anytime.
I enjoyed!

Tammy~
And thanks for sharing too.
I like the thought running through this one-
makes one think.
Please share more!

Haunted-
Wow- 2 poems thanks!
I enjoyed both and like the phrasing
you have adopted for your style.


Thanks ALL for sharing and I can't wait to read tomorrow!!

Here is my poem for Tuesday

I might mention a little about it.
When I was young, my father took all of us salmon fishing for 6 weeks out of every summer and we always stayed at a place called "Snow Creek Camp" up at Neah Bay, Washington.
You might recall seeing Neah Bay on the news, they are where the Native Americans were allowed to go whaling and there was a lot of controversy over that.

This poem is NOT about the whaling.
It is just memories painted by words from my childhood of a beautiful piece of God's earth

<a href=http://chasingdowntheblue.homestead.com/nb.html target=_blank>Neah Bay</a>

No one left any new poems to read today.
:(

Oh well, here is my poem for Wednesday, 10/22/03

No webpage for this one.


<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">~ Nightshade ~</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Emerging silent, she steals
without movement
from the mist of his thirsty dreams.
Violet eyes before him as numinous pools
deep and seductive,
watching until her calculated moment,
unknown to him.

As real as every ghost he has never seen,
he stands frozen
before this voracious apparition,
born screaming from the eager loins of all men.

Passion carried over in haste,
stripped of any reason or desire to fight
or flee her,
he succumbs to the scent of persimmon
dewed upon cool porcelain skin,
upon her mound of demand
he swallows her whole just to please her.

Below the primal shallows of a man
comes the guttural bellow of the exposed child,
running naked, free to feast and howl.

Strong hands moved to weakness,
he is numb to release himself from her
as she slowly burrows in,
consuming the smooth moments over an anxious tongue,
she crawls beneath his trembling, beaded skin.

A moist space she has come to call her own
she has found her private place to silently seed,
seducing him unto her insatiable want,
she is content to be nothing more,
than his
buried erotic need.</FONT>


<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Copyright 2002SAGE </FONT>

"WHAT CAN I DO" by TheChosen1

I can touch you with my words,
And feel you with my heart.
I can kiss you now and forever,
On each of your body parts.

I can be there to see you through
Your troubles and your fears.
And hold you in my arms to protect you,
While I kiss away your tears.

So let my love be your shelter,
As I cherish your every being.
As I hold you, touch you, and keep you near,
With more love than you've ever seen.

My daughter has been invited to a "coffee shop" to read her poems on Monday night. We are THRILLED! Did I ever mention that this same kid has been offered 16k to attend Bradly next fall? PROUD PROUD mamma!


Memories

It's hard to be alone
Don't you know
And watch the bubbling ocean foam
It's hard to be a brain
While it rains
And march among the populous refrain
It's hard to be a man
Without a plan
Watching all your whitest photos tan

~Sarah Ginsberg
(My brilliant 17yo daughter)


Sex

Silky
Sweaty
Shimmering
Stealthy
Spitty
****ty
Slitty?
Stumbling
Stuttered
Shuddered
Shoulder
Soaking
Smoking
Soft
Special
Stupid
Sex

~Sarah Ginsberg
(My brilliant 17yo daughter)

Three

Tickle me purple
Splash me with tears
Suck all the red
Drowning all cares
Lifting the pages
Heavy with crud
Sweeping the starshine
Dancing in mud
Whispering yes's
Slapping the buzz
Searching for rollies
Sneezing the fuzz
Laying under bunnies
Giggling at funnies
Collecting all my moneys...
Good to be three

~Sarah Ginsberg
(My brilliant 17yo daughter)

She writes beautifully and she has a great future ahead of her as a writer if that is her plan! I can see why you are so proud! Give her our best wishes!!







______________________________________


http://pages.prodigy.net/rogerlori1/emoticons/skull3.gif

Kudos to your daughter Marcy. She is indeed, a very talented young lady. Your pride is well placed. Please tell her I think her work is superb.

Gillian

I agree, Marcy.

Tell your daughter not to do what I did. One of my high school teachers noticed my writing abilities but I ignored it.

She's got a great gift there. Teach her to use it wisely. And not be like this woman:
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/random/die.jpg
A mind and great sex are terrible things to waste.........TheChosen1:D

Where are the rules of love???
Why isn't there a book???

Where does it say it won't last???
When in reality it should???

Where does it say they change???
While the other doesn't change with them???

Why can't we have the one we want???
Why do we have to wait???

Why does the relationship grow stale???
Why can't we be satisfied with them???

Where does it say one loses???
When the other moves on???

Why are there devastating results???
Why do we keep trying???

When will we find happiness???
No book of rules explains it.

Chosen1-
Nice love write!
Hope you show us more....


Marcy-
thanks again for offering up your daughter's great writing!
I get so pumped reading young people's work.
And she is so fortunate to have a mom who encourages her and shows off her work.
Wish my parents had.
I wanted to go to college and study journalism and they wanted me to be a nurse.
(No, I am not a nurse)
BRAVO to you both!

Thanks again Haunted for adding your poem today!
Some great questions posed there....

Here is my poem for Thursday, 10/23/03.
It's from my "Soap Box Collection"
LOL

Yeah, a little preachy.
No webpage for this one...


<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Shame</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">From the depths of all hopelessness
surfaces the reason for one simple prayer.
Reaching and preaching,
a ray of hope
runs a fine line over the lies and procrastination,
allowing the digging to begin.

The one voice heard
comes garbled and distant
needing divine interpretation and devout study.
Those without faith
leer to the rest of us like crouched jackals,
deaf to what lay beating inside them.
The truth of humanity
remains unheard.

The women do the washing and endless scrubbing
while the men labor long and mindless.
They busy themselves with building and achieving
in spite of the rubble of indifference piled beneath
their feet.


The foundation of who we are
cracks and shifts under the weight
of sin's gratification.
We look to the mirror, displeased,
wanting the face of another,
unable to see who we really are.

We dance and celebrate
under the many moons and to the energy of the sun,
grateful for big fat paychecks and our collection of things.
We wear cement shoes
and a halo of thorns only to complain that we are
never comfortable enough.

We spit and polish the temples
and white wash the churches.
All is in fine order, all is bright and shiny for us to admire
in spite of our dull selves.
The earth under our feet, viewed as dirty
is hastily washed away,
and scoured out of our sight.

We pray every Sunday
for the solutions and some instant salvation
to cease this judgment upon us that has arrived
and parked in our circular driveways
and perched upon our fence of ignorance.
We peep through the holes
and point the fingers at our fellow man
for the degradation that is born
within ourselves.

I labor my mountain and contemplate
the earth held in my hands.
Eyes cast to the waters and then to the sky,
the tears of shame pour.
Alone I pray to a sky so humungous compared to myself.
A tiny spec of faith and fortitude am I,
compared to my reason for
walking this fine earth.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2001SAGE</FONT>

No new poems today.
:confused:

Oh well, maybe tomorrow?
:p

Here is my poem for Friday, 10/24/03

And yes, I CAN write a poem less than a million words!
:D


<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Heart</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">A deliverance unto us,
devotion finely wrought.
Breath sustained in loyal hands,
the voice of truth begot.

A heart trussed in faith for thee,
passion bound to intertwine.
Hope graced upon distant lips,
thy heart lifted and held behind.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2002SAGE</FONT>

lets look what i can look forward to oh when i m like 100

AN OLD MAN

At the noisy end of the cafe, head bent
over the table, an old man sits alone,
a newspaper in front of him.

And in the miserable banality of old age
he thinks how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, eloquence, and looks.

He knows he's aged a lot: he sees it, feels it.
Yet it seems he was young just yesterday.
So brief an interval, so brief.

And he thinks of Prudence, how it fooled him,
how he always believed - what madness -
that cheat who said: "Tomorrow. You have plenty of time."

He remembers impulses bridled, the joy
he sacrificed. Every chance he lost
now mocks his senseless caution.

But so much thinking, so much remembering
makes the old man dizzy. He falls asleep,
his head resting on the cafe table.

(translated by Memas Kolaitis)

Originally posted by Sage
Chosen1-
Nice love write!
Hope you show us more....

Thanks Sage,
I didn't know it was being read.
I have several (most posted and published on poetry.com) that I plan
to post here.

What separates us from eachother???
Is it you??? Is it me???

Is it our situations???
Is it our locations???

We feel so close
Yet so far away

Is it the walls we've built??
Can it be torn down???

Is it outside infuences???
Or is it inside of us???

I'm tired of being away from you.
I grow weary of the emptiness.

But, I must go on.
I must find my calling.

If my calling is you
Come with me.

Our destinies aren't given
They are earned.

Come to me
Let me come to you

I Write Poetry


Perhaps an easier life
than Van Gogh, Serrat, Cassat,
mortgaging house and home
sublimating hunger
for canvas, wooden palettes,
colours squeezed from tubes.

Dependent on morning, noon,
or evening light to
dictate brush-strokes.

I paint poetry
(only pen in hand)
piled-up sentences,
letters heaped
across a page,
solitary self-portraits
made from words.
________________________
Gillian

I love this, Gillian. I really love it!

http://www.cutegifs.blogger.com.br/minicute505.gif

To all that shared poems today-
I enjoyed!

Gillian,
Your words capture so much.
As a poet, I thank you!

Here is my poem for today, Saturday, 10/25/03


<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Prism</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">A single beam of light,
it's path presented before us.
Grasping hands one over the other,
we lift ourselves up onto this plateau
of final recognition.

One axis,
two in parallel facing the certainty,
bound in part by two,
refracting a single beam of divine light.

Saved by zero,
traveling unto destinations charted,
the premonitions
of a bonded incarnation deliver our reason.
Rays of life
dripping like liquid crystal pooled above us,
soul mates and spirit guides
reflected through the vortex,
gazing to us through the veil
awaiting our passage unto His incandescent light.

Utero be only a vessel to deliver us,
our lives here be only a glint in the prism.
Promises of tomorrow
reflected back to years past,
we merge as one,
only after our earthly sentence.

Our prism,
steady faces mirrored.
I accept your hand extended to draw me in.
I am home.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2001SAGE</FONT>

Hi Haunted and Chosen,

Good stuff. May your Muse be with you.

And thanks Sage for your kind words.

Just a word of caution here Chosen. poetry.com is a well-known poetry scam site. I can post you a link about it. Don't want to discourage anyone's writing, but poetry.com is not a nice place.

Gillian

As I can't write poetry to save my life hehe , if i could
this is what i would write so
i contribute this on behalf of W. Bruce,


The Last Warrior
By W.J. Bruce



High on bleak, stony rag,
Unmoving, he sits astride
His ragged coated pony.
Only telltale frozen breaths,
Separate them from
The still, winter black boles
Of ancient leafless trees.
The pony, blown and lame,
Stands with lowered head,
Ears flattened to the sound
Of a distant wolf pack.
The man on his back,
All weapons lost,
Ignores the trickling blood
From savage wounds,
Mingling his war paint.
Eyes burning fiercely
He strains to find
The sign he seeks:
Behind, the sound of enemy
Draws ever closer.
At last, faith rewarded,
He sees far below
In the deep valley,
Arriving at the edge
Of the fast flowing river,
The great she bear
With two gamboling cubs:
To fish the racing salmon,
Drawn relentlessly toward
Their age-old spawning ground.
Silently, the wounded brave
Offers his final prayer
To the eternal clan bear;
Totem and guardian
Of his battle slain tribe.
The enemy, exultant,
Are almost upon him,
Yet he looks not behind:
He sees only the Great Spirit,
Surrounding him kindly
In loving, firm embrace.
While the enemy closes in,
He straightens himself;
His voice rings loud and clear,
Echoing across the land
To the distant cloudless sky.
One last defiant war cry
As he spurs on his pony,
And leaps...
Into the world of his ancestors.

Here is an anti-war By Alisdaire O'Caoimph

Within these plains of life and death
E'er I stand alone,
here between the fragments of eternal decay
words prosper little to none.
I am the dreamer of dreams
This mind the battle ground of frolics and plays
that here in this desolate foreground
awaits the cry of silent fields.
A ghost, Aye true as words best gather
A ghost of promises faded fast,

Of fathomed depths this Soul has hungered
Liberated now freely drives the song,
That song of a thousand wishes, of promises
that have drifted to the currents of time.
Here Haunting in the solitude
that place where the awaiting moment springs
and dances upon the unconditioned mind.
Here in death,
this place of the silent gardens and whispering hopes,
Who has witnessed or learned,
touched these fragrant fields and gathered these lillies.
I remember Oh to well,
those torrid fields of life's disdain,
where hatred filled both vain and blood
and pain etched to to the flood of thought.
I suffer here in the memory
the Waged sin that beguiled my Soul
and into this eternal Hell I'm cast,
to relive second by second that horror,
that blood stained field,
that unholy action of War.
I remember the call
that moment of honour
and feeling the engulfing purpose of reason filled,
that summoned my ego, relentless I too arose
with the legions, to the battle honours sold.
But God crafts not to mans delusions
nor is the Soul purified by blood,
but rather the death of ones fellow brother
here stains the iniquity of the whole.
But in death there rest no country,
In death their is no goal,
and here in the depths of its embrace
My soul purifies its horrid past.
Till washed pure to the vulgar,
the depravity of man,
I shall again walk flowered gardens
and cross the crystal sea.

Originally posted by Gillian
Hi Haunted and Chosen,

Good stuff. May your Muse be with you.

And thanks Sage for your kind words.

Just a word of caution here Chosen. poetry.com is a well-known poetry scam site. I can post you a link about it. Don't want to discourage anyone's writing, but poetry.com is not a nice place.

Gillian

Thanks for the warning, Gillian. I would appreciate that link, if you still have it.

Fortunately, while I was waiting to see my doctor in the waiting room, I met a woman who also publish stories and poems and she has a website online.

Yeux Enchante


Liquid pools of azure sky

flood the windows of the soul.

Mon ame erupts flushed

and fluttered, languishing

each glance, each sigh.


Stored reflections appear and

begin to delicately lace

their fingers through my heart,

assuring me that promises

be kept, that secrets ne’er

will be revealed.


I have seen them gentle, tame,

and meek, seeking the essence

of gentil ciel. Yet, drooping lashes

shadow the dark and distant

clouds perpetually rolling

within the ravished viscera.


I am intoxicated by the masquerade.

Flickering devilkin, behind the seraphic

smile, delight in the duplicity. Still,

the stillness of twilight summons

forgiveness, and alas my heart surrenders.

STOLEN MOMENTS

Fate has dealt a weak hand
With a stacked deck of cards

Our hearts try to steal the moment
A moment lost, a moment never found

We are so far away from eachother
We can't see the emotional drain

Each of us fighting for the time
A time to be together

Where can you be
Who says you can't be here.

The time is fading away
Like sand through my fingers

I see your shadow in the distance
Too far for me to reach

Your eyes well up with tears
We were so close, yet so far away

My anger at fate worsens as you drift
A moment lost, a moment never found

What is the risk
Can I risk more

I need you to reassure me
But you are gone

The moment is gone
A moment lost, a moment never found.

Here's a couple of links - there's a whole bunch if you just do a search on poetry.com scam.

Poetry.com Scam (http://www.winningwriters.com/scambustingsites.htm)

http://groups.msn.com/soulspin/poetrycomscam.msnw

Here's a link to the web-based poetry site I've belonged to for a long time. Wonderful people, great talent. Lots of forums to choose from. Earlier this year some of us "old-timers" got together and put a book together. The site is now in the process of preparing for the second anthology. (Shamelss self promotion....one of mine actually got picked to be in the Forward of the book!) I know alot of people don't agree with self-publishing, but it sure feels good to see your work advertised and available on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.

Come on over and have a peek. It's that 'other' site that I'm addicted to. More shameless self promotion - check out the Archive forum and you'll find my name and a bunch of my scribblings. It would be so totally awesome to see someone from here over there! Just mention my name and you'll get the best seat in the house.

The Poetry Pages (http://www.poetrypages.com/)

Keep writing.....
Gillian

Methinks Sage is busy with her brand new grandchild, so I'll post a poem for yesterday and today.
________________________________________

Halfway


I'll meet you
halfway between

Allegro con brio and
Adante con moto.

I'll recall every overture you made.

After our champagne intermission
I'll watch his fingers
press down on black and white keys,
his hands, the only freedom from the starched black and white
that encases him.

I'll meet you
halfway between
Beethoven's deafness
and hearing Mozart.
__________________________
Gillian

At Last
Elizabeth Akers Allen

At last, when all the summer shine
That warmed life's early hours is past,
Your loving fingers seek for mine
And hold them close—at last—at last!
Not oft the robin comes to build
Its nest upon the leafless bough
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,—
But you, dear heart, you love me now.

Though there are shadows on my brow
And furrows on my cheek, in truth,—
The marks where Time's remorseless plough
Broke up the blooming sward of Youth,—
Though fled is every girlish grace
Might win or hold a lover's vow,
Despite my sad and faded face,
And darkened heart, you love me now!

I count no more my wasted tears;
They left no echo of their fall;
I mourn no more my lonesome years;
This blessed hour atones for all.
I fear not all that Time or Fate
May bring to burden heart or brow,—
Strong in the love that came so late,
Our souls shall keep it always now!



http://www.planetsmilies.net/936

Originally posted by Pale_Beauty
Very Nice Sage.


Well, I truthfily didn't intend for this to be a poem, I was creating my profile for yahoo, and wrote only what was in my Heart For Neo. So Here goes.*Blushes*

My Eyernal Flame :
What am I, You asked as you awaken From fright, your face left all pale and white,Im here to tell you, This much is true,I am a "Succubus",Here for you,You know, the one who.....Does the unspeakable thing to you. And here is what it is that I like to Do...
InVading The Very dreams of Woman,and Man alike. Like A Thief In the Night,Im here to steal only the sweetest dreams, of dreams.I will call them Mine to take.So when you are awkened in the night, and left by Fright, you may calm you wery soul, for it is me...your sweetest nightmare.Invading your Dream for it is mine to take.Never to cause harm.
But wait..... When I Invaded His Dream, He Invaded My Heart.I had not a thing left not a singel fight.He won my dark soul .My Bloved who Intertwins and Tangels within my Darkened Soul.
Now and all the lives we both shall live.(I Love You) .May You Be Born First In our next Life,as so I wont have to painfuly wait for you for to long, and if I am born first once again I would wait for you Til Eternities End.I will search For you Until the sky is no longer Blue, I'd surley Find you.I'd Look over the hills and under the valley's.I'd find you.I'd Look Under evrey stone,left unturned.I'd ask ...Have you seen him? Have you seen My beloved?I'd Find you. This I know.Until that time is Near,Do Not Fear My Love of Old..May You Feel and Scence my very Essence in all of your dreams,to come."For I will Be there."
Until then,My heart is left with a scare across,that only you ,My Eternal Flame can mend.
By Katharyne.



I love this one!!! It just needs a form...but the words express things I have felt with my own sweetheart. ~sigh~

Originally posted by Pale_Beauty
~Guinavere~
A Form, what's that? *Feels Silly*

*Blushes From your compliment* Thanx.;)






Well, Pale...

What you wrote was a beautiful piece of prose poetry. However to give it more umph...you could take it and break it down line by line into more of a piece that looks like a poem. Although, there are contemporary poets who use a story or letter format similar to what you posted. But I think it would look lovely if it were organized a little different on the page. Need an editor? I would be happy to help you out. You have a very beautiful way with words...

Wow- I am so pleased to see this thread so lively!
And yes, Gillian was right, I have been a bit busy and preoccupied with the birth of my little granddaughter this week.

Thanks to you all for carrying on with the poetry!!
I have enjoyed reading and thank all of you for sharing your creativity with us.

I am happy to see that we can also discuss what each other has written.
Sharing poetry is wonderful, but discussions about writing can also be beneficial too!

Here is my poem for today, 10/30/03

This poem rattles on in a rather confused way.
I have considered re-writing it, but I wrote this while locked in a terrible union of marriage.
So I keep it as it is.


<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">The Will </FONT>
<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Is it enough to want,
to desire,
to contemplate an existence within
another man's perfect place?
I pick at the truth
inbetween the words-
just my own empty voice
taking up space.
I stop long enough to search evasive eyes-
calculated and cool,
set within your convenient face.


I took on the Will of the Warrior,
foraging for some root of truth,
moralizing,
and rationalizing the aftermath of your reckless youth.
The dramatic ledges and the sacred pledges
tokens and souvenirs,
nothing more
than dented up trophies collected
from the running years.

I stand here at the horizon
and ponder what might be the proper way-
pitiful tears shed,
for the awkward truth,
choked back.
Left unsaid.
The actions of a woman blinded,
I am sternly reproached and quietly reminded
to tend to this pigsty
of my irresponsible dreaming.

The Will.
Begging for attention,
tired and worn,
nothing more than the forgotten child.
So sadly broken-
how utterly appropriate it is
to hunger all alone.

The Will
proud and dignified,
fighting off the urges-
emerging with nothing more
and nothing less-
rising above the trenches of apathy.
Lazy excuses so easily passed along,
guilt and remorse,
so carefully buried .

Surveying the aftermath,
greedy lovers devouring each other's tender flesh
creating such an emotional mess.
I watch and salivate,
posed and ready
with nothing more
than my old worn out catcher's mitt.


Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2000SAGE</FONT>

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening


Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it's queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep
from New Hampshire, 1923


By: Robert Frost

Our poetry thread is slowing down some, but that is to be expected.

I'm sorry I missed posting a poem last night.
I totally forgot.
I really should sit down and write some fresh stuff.
It is going through my mind all the time, but I just don't make the time needed to put it all together.

There was a group I was in a year or so back that gave out little writing assignments to the members.
They were fun!
And no, that is NOT what I am going to do in this thread.
(so don't worry)

I am going to place some of the writing that I did in those little assignments here and if anyone wants to try their hand at this kind of writing, please feel free to do so.
The concept was very simple.
To write about a person and make it as descriptive as you could.
It was still poetry, but almost in a story type way.

I loved doing these and loved reading what the others wrote too.
I'll be placing mine here for the next couple of nights or so.

Thanks again for supporting our poetry thread!!
Show us your writes anytime!!
:)

<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Malaise</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">A barren woman misplaced,
her empty womb constricted and held in
tight over the years.
Now filled with regret for the choices now met
and sprawled across her unmade bed
of dull, worn out ruby red satin sheets.

There are a child's eyes that question her.
Little hands reaching past her
and in dire need of the cleansing.
Scrubbing haphazardly
she attempts to wash away the layers of
guilt and remorse
with her Tigress scented guest soaps.
Half clean and still glistening,
she finds herself in the mirror and smiles.

Her trophies of men, shelved and dust covered,
her pride and joys collected
of her prime years.
She always relaxed too much and
considered the sun only deserving of her.
Constructive, valuable time ticked away
as she spent the hours
counting on her fuchsia painted nails
the many proposals,
of which she felt that none,
were worthy.

Beauty dragged
and now blotched and ruddy,
the seedy, caked on mascara no longer runs
when she has too much bourbon
and cries herself a river.

If only her suitors
had not moved along so quickly,
had not been in such a rush.
If only they had ran after her,
as she mocked and danced and scoffed.
The laughter wells up in her,
and she dabs the tissue so expertly
in the corners of her cherry red mouth
creased in deep lines now aimed downward
and crooked.


Empty years that have fallen behind her,
now offer themselves up again,
There are no children to hold,
nor scold,
No children to scamper after
and tickle
into a giggling frenzy.
Only her,
and the squeaky boxes of tarnished jewelry
setting upon an unsteady, make up smeared dressing table.

The waiter brings her the tab
and calls her Ma'm
as she cracks a smile revealing lipstick stains
smeared across a yellowed partial.
She proudly presents to him
her visa card and winks.
He avoids her face and mutters
"Thank You."
She looks around the room,
swills down the last of the bourbon
and curses the marching years
that have trod upon her.

Hollywood Boulevard
and a bottle of cheap bourbon-
clutching her brown paper bag
her spiked heels click unsteady
as she proudly pulls the matted chinchilla around her.
The appeal of her one time sexpot sashay
now resembles nothing more than
an old woman's tired stumble.

Her two room flat flooded with neon
is as cold and barren as she has become,
greeting her with silence.
She fills a chipped champagne flute with bourbon
and makes a gravel voiced toast out loud.
"Heres to me!"
she waves her flute
to an old cat glancing to her
from the windowsill.
Again she slurs,
"Heres to everyone one of you,
you no good bastads!

With her flute now empty,
she adjusts the tight,
worn thin chartreuse satin cocktail dress
hugging tight
her added pounds
and relaxed curves no longer visible.

She pours the bourbon free and sloppy,
gulps down half,
then collapses onto her orange Chinese silk divan,
the neon from outside her window
draped across her
and sobs.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2001SAGE</FONT>

between the slits of two tall grasses in the dark of the open plains ,
two patient yellow eyes burn into the hind of a muskrat
if patience is a virtue, the loin knows this
this is what the world has turned me into
this is how i was raised
the years have turned his heart cold
the mouse turns its head half a inch, and freezes
without even seeing the yellow ovals to the side of him
it now realizes now its destiny, its fate
it now realized it has nibbled its last food particle
the hungry in the loin's eyes are at its ever peak
now is the time to strike
he asks himself , did i kill my own spirit, or
did i kill my own spirit by letting others kill it or a combination of it
do i still have my spirit it asks
patient as the nighttime's moon, with eyes alone that could kill
if it waits any longer the mouse will try to escape.

People seem to like this one:

I Love The Way
by: Mike Bagarello

I love the way
Your arms embrace me.
They take me away
To a whole new world
Filled with passion
Where all I can feel
Is your undying love

I love the way
You stare into my eyes
Seeing your reflection
In the pools of tears
Inside my eyes
Shows you that
I'm here
Shows you that
I care
Shows you that
I love

I love the way
You kiss my lips
The feeling
Of an uncontrolable passion
Reigns supreme in my heart
It makes me lose control of my body
My soul
And makes me fall in love with you
All over again

I love the way
You whisper in my ear
Telling me everything
That I need to hear
When you say that you love me
And you tell me not to cry
I can't help but get
One loney tear in my eye
As it trickles down my face
I hear you again
Saying those beautiful words you say
"Everything will be okay"
As I fall into your arms
I know that one day
Everything will be okay
But most importantly

I love the way
It feels
To be in love with someone.
As great as you

Ever since I can remember from childhood
I have wondered
If when God gives me the challenge
of this lifetime
If I would have the courage to stand up to it
the answer can only come from within me
when I was young
I used to watch war movies for entertainment
now I ask myself what it really means to be courageous
I always was afraid to be called inferior
I beg my heart , that no matter what people say
or what I even say to myself,
never to let myself down
that you should never let myself be called inferior
when I look back when I am old,
I will ask myself this question.
If I stood up for myself this lifetime,
will my heart swell with pride ?
through pain or hardship ,
to answer that one question
and one question alone.

Hello guys I am new here.. first of all i am expecting warm welcome from you guys.. now..... this is an excellent thread.. i myself write poetry will post my poems soon..

take care.

Kissing Thoughts

We are never on that same
Wavelength
I've heard people talk of,
With open mouths & tongues moving
In and around
Words,
That touch each other
Like water kissing sand
_______________________________
Gillian

Welcome Solitude!
I am looking forward to reading your poetry.
Thanks for reading ours too!

Gillian-
wonderful write!!

MikeB-
I liked your write too!
Hope you post more.

Johnny-
Very enjoyable!

I don't have a poem for today, but PROMISE to have one tomorrow!
I'd like to post some "fresh" stuff, so need to do some writing!

Thanks all for sharing your poetry wares!

The 4 seasons deal with the 4 types of emotions someone goes through life in the following stages:

1. When someone falls in love.
2. When there is separation in love.
3. The frustrations after separation.
4. When time gives you back your senses.

1st Season

This is the composition for the 1st stage, where the pure heart has finally fallen pray, everything is full of color, nothing in the world seems wrong. The writer is thinking about what made him take the plunge. They are all little things, little gestures, but they add up to become the special someone you were waiting for all through your life.


I remember how still was my life, my surroundings so bleak
Living each day as it came, my mind so tired, heart so weak
The season of winter was upon me, only cold gusts blew
Then one day the sun came out, bright & warm, the day I met you
The love that you have showered, the care that you have shown
The magic that you have enchanted, my heart ceases to be my own
You are the smile which is now lit on my face
The warmth I now give in my every embrace
You are now the wings that make me fly
The twinkle which is now shining in my eye
You are the love songs playing at the strings of my heart
The lovely music of my life, till the end from the start
With you I want to live, grow old and die
Hold my hand, we'll soar & reach the sky
With you I want to laugh, sing and dance
Somewhere quiet & alone, just sit & romance
With you I want to live my joys, celebrate my victories
Plan dreams for tomorrow, share yesterday's memories
To seek peace in the calm & harmony of your voice
I want to shun the noise of the world, be proud of my choice
You are now the meaning of my life, the identity of my soul
A missing piece of my very being, a part that makes me whole
The trust, the care, the love that we share, may leave us never
Upon each star that falls in the sky, I pray for ever and ever

You have a lovely style of writing Solitude.
I liked your poem very much and I hope you'll share more with us!

I really like the comparison of love's stages to the seasons passing.
:)

<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Totem</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Morning gazes upon a mist soaked shoreline,
the scant scent of camp coffee
and pungent pine
take me by the hand into a mood
of affectionate retrospect.

Turning back the pages of our years together,
it is here that we pay homage and discover true rest.
This evergreen refuge of heart and soul
anchors me from flying.
I release the city congestion
to embrace the gulls, elk and eagle's nests.

A bucket of herring
and a kelp draped waterline await.
There is no hesitation to roll up my sleeves
and breath in deep.
Rocky ledges resembling the
profiles of proud Indian braves
look out over the water
as if searching for a sign from their elders.


Is it so selfish of me wanting to linger here,
to set free my spirit of the earth
and reverence to all that moves and inspires me?
My symbol of being is
cleansed with a pounding rain
and a wind that rolls the sea into a moody tirade
turning quick to placid glass.


Lush fern, salmonberries and wild dogwood
decorate the path leading to my temple.
Like the seekers before me discovering the solace
of the earth embedded,
I am humbled
by all life bonded in breath and the right to live.

I bring you here to pounce like a cougar,
to love you,
then look to the sky and marvel.

This be my totem.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2003SAGE </FONT>

AWWW yellowrose that is BE U TI FULL

soooo when ya gonna meet him?

:D

Well, if everything continues like it has, when he has some time off at the Christmas break maybe. He is working on his master in Psychology and then wants to go on to a PH.D and go into clinical practice and teaching. He has never been married and had 3 serious relationships. It is a totally new adventure for me.... I am really enjoying him and I have (so far) a "one day at a time about it". But I do have a crush on him....

I'm so happy for you. Romance is wonderful ain't it.

Thank you Sage I guess you are the only one who liked it... :)

2nd Season

Here is original composition # 2. This poem describes all the emotions of the second season of love. It describes the time when you fully realize that you have found that special someone with whom you could spend your life time; But then the differences, the traditions, the family values & every other worldly hindrance comes before you. You fight, you struggle, You try to keep them away. But eventually it becomes all too clear that separation is evident. Although you are, and will remain, loyal; but that loyalty cannot be shown to the other.

So you pretend to be cold, say your good-byes, and leave behind only a note which says.............................



I wish I knew the words, which could fully reveal,
Of how sorry I am and how bad inside I feel,
For always breaking your heart in so many ways
And for the sufferings which you are facing these days,
I wish these things had never ever happened
I wish these moments would be totally forgotten,
I wish you knew just how hard it is for me
To tell you each time, "Please try to forget me"
I tell you now, this same advice I give myself for you
I tell you now; it is as hard for me as it is for you
I wish you knew how much my heart & mind collide
I wish I knew the words to make you sadly realize
Sometimes, Some dreams just can not come true
Sometimes, Some sacrifices all of us must do
Maybe, we don't know, It will be better that way,
Maybe, We don't know, We will be happier that way
Remember that life is the most valuable thing on earth
Remember that only God must take away this precious worth,
Remember that a new sun dawns after each passing night,
Remember all darkness disappears in that never ending light
For you, I ask God all the blessings that he can give
From him I ask the loveliest & a perfect life for you to live
May you never stop saying beautiful words with your perfect timings
May your life become a poem, ever so full with beautiful rhymings
May you always always smile, laugh and have that twinkle in your eye
May you never never have to make a wish, while looking at the sky
I wish I knew the words..........................



The last few lines have now become a prayer, reserved for those very special and very close to the heart.

Thought I would give this thread a bump and get it going again.
(Sure hate to see it fade away...)


Solitude-
Your write about the 2nd season is very nice and I hope you will share the other seasons with us.
I love the whole concept.
Finding love and being in love is very much a "seasonal" type passage.

I know it is kind of disheartening to place poetry in a forum like this and then not get many responses.
I have felt that way often in other poetry forums.
Seems like many poets like to place their poetry in the forums, but then hesitate to comment on the other poetry.

Anyone have suggestions at to how we might get more "poetic interaction" here?

I was thinking that maybe we could have some days that we post poetry with specific themes or styles, but then too, I wanted this thread to not have a lot of defined structure and just have poetry flowing along without any set rules or such.

It would be interesting to find out a little "writing history" about each other.
Such as, if any of us are published, or when we first started writing and what gets our poetic juices flowing.
What does writing mean to you and how has writing effected your life.
Do you share your writes with family and friends?

If you have any thoughts or ideas for this thread, please post them!

Aww Solitude - I'm sorry. Like Sage says don't take it personally. When I first joined the Poetry Pages (a web-based poetry site), I would post a poem and check back every two minutes after posting, to see if anyone had commented on what I wrote. It takes a lot of guts to be vulnerable enough to actually post your work and be thick-skinned enough to read people's crits - good, bad or indifferent, and to just keep on writing no matter what anyone else thinks, says or doesn't say. Don't be discouraged, keep writing and posting what you write. If your passionate about poetry and the written word, it's just something you have to do. Hope that made sense.

I have enjoyed reading your work. Keep it coming.

Love,
Gillian

Thanks a lot Gillan and Sage its okay I understand now.. actually I am quite sensitive and sentimental and take everything personally... anyways I am okay now.. thanks for liking my write.. :)

take care..

3rd Season

Here’s composition # 3. This poem describes the phase when you have separated. The guilt, the frustration, the anger & the hope of reunion are all very much there. Nothing in the world seems right, Everything looks grey in color. You want to let go, but you can't. The feeling is unexplainable.


Sometimes when I’m in solitude I wish
For just one moment in time, to cherish
A moment free from the haunting yesterday
Or the fear of tomorrow’s might or may
Of the memories of friends & loved ones left behind
Who got lost & buried in the sands of time
The ambience of their voices is sometimes so loud
Their imaging clouds block reality
Sometimes when I wake up I wish to seek
An awakening full of joyous life & peace
A morning without the ache, the pain
Of the burden of life in constant sustain
So many questions attack & cordon the mind
Of love, of fate, of life that I cannot find
Just for one day, just for one morning I wish
To awaken feeling unhurt & for that moment to relish
Sometimes in between laughter & enjoyment I feel
The hollowness in my laugh, not completely real
Then I force a smile around my lips
I wrangle with sadness, I came to grips
The dazzling surroundings lose brightness, die down
My heart & my eyes slowly begin to drown
Sometimes I just sit, I think & ponder
How so much have I changed, I wonder
Where was the bend that curved me this way?
The one that I was once, I desire to portray
A riddle, A puzzle, still so unclear
I really don’t know, in all honesty & sincere
Sometimes I sense that there is no cure
For the disease which I don’t even know for sure
But life moves on, as it always will
And time drags on, as it doesn’t keep still
What a strange tradition!!! To live on & on
Such a strange habit !!! To breathe on & on

This thread was two away from falling off the bottom of my screen. Can't let that happen.

Here's one for today....
____________________________________________

Cyber love
-I'm spelling your name
with my fingers
can you hear me

Cyber love
-I'm holding your password
close to mine
can you feel me

Cyber love
-I'm tracing your face
on my screen
can you see me

Cyber love
-I'm deleting you
can you hurt
_______________________
Gillian

WHEN WE TWO PARTED
by Lord Byron (1788-1824)

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:-
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?-
With silence and tears.

<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Woman</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Eyes lifted
searching for a glint of proof
that God does recognize
and possibly tally up
good intentions.

Holding her inherited faith,
smoothing out the wrinkles
she realigns the abstact reasoning.
Blood seeping from sharp pins and needles
embedded so deeply
across her silenced mouth,
she hums.

Pain placed at her feet..
for later.
Duty piled high
upon armored clad shoulders.
The moon finds her beauty put on hold
spilling from reverent eyes
pooling up past her mired feet.

Her shadow dances, twirling alongside her,
tapping her over and over upon the responsible shoulder.
Freedom dangled out of reach
she continues to polish, dream and fold.

Weep for
the faceless woman
planted as she tends the earth,
scrubbing hands raw from all the late night digging.
Seedlings sprout within her tidy womb,
roots snarl up to her knees.
No way now
to scale her wall of sorrow.
Breathing in deep the second hand smoke,
naked to the world
imperfections displayed
she smiles
and makes due.

Written
By
Sage</FONT>
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Copyright 2003SAGE</FONT>

Elvira Madigan
______________

Are you well,
do you ever think only of me?

(I will allow Mozart to interrupt)

For an instant maybe
I am there.

Remember I wanted to be
like breathing,
that unnoticed and
that necessary
______________________
Gillian

Last night
I sojourned to the country's darkened edge,
where once we laughed
and loved
and watched the world from secret places.
Where once we seized the fading day
to wield against our destinies.
Addressing the indifferent moon
radiant in her full display,
I stood in momentary wonder
a fragment of Creation.
As I awaited her reply
I drifted up or out (can't say which one)
and thought of you
and us
and ships and stars
...and Africa...
and songs that we weren't meant to sing
and dreams that we weren't meant to dream.
And for a while I felt you near
somewhere in the distance
(on the dunes? in the moon?)
But I was back
Grounded in reality
Awake, alone and sandy.
Suddenly cold,
I turned to go
Nature now being all too unfulfilling.
For now I know...what before I had suspected:
the moon, the swells, the stars, the shore,
in all their glory
...without you...
are a simple empty frame.



Copyright (Rain) © 1993

<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Morning</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Satisfied and sleepy,
playful licks and silly grins,
two lovers unable to let the other go.
Whispers close and warm
hands exploring flushed curves and mounds
familiar and so well known.

Ribbons of a new dawn draped over
an unmade bed
two bodies entwined stealing one moment
and then another.
I close my eyes to breathe you in,
to remember and carry with me,
this heady scent of you.
Coffee perking, the dog eavesdropping.
our morning instincts
tug at the sheets
reminding us of duty and deadlines.
Sweet exhausted slumber shifts to the
grumbling and stumbling
that never misses the demanding beat
of our relentless responsibilities

One quick kiss and then another,
deep, long and inviting.
No excuses needed
as we continue on with the eager touching.
Time takes a number
as love slips back
into one last temptation of our morning seduction.

Written
By
Sage
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">Copyright 2002SAGE</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=3 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">
Remnants</FONT>

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">A tattered cloth of simplicity,
our sentimental times untethered.
A tapestry of memories
a patchwork aged and faintly weathered.

An open bible,
yellowed pages turned,
the edges torn.
Prayers in silent waiting,
an honest faith that remains strong,
yet tried and somewhat worn,
These be the cherished memories that wander,
reaching out to embrace what did not last.
Times shared with those now long gone,
ceremonies of little moments
woven, stitched and gathered from our past.

Photographs faded,
memories draped like lace to
shadow our beloved yesteryears.
A bright blue time.
A fresh green time.
Hues of bright curiosity and watercolour tears.

Fragmented moments floating,
like fallen leaves brittle, brown and strewn,
Stories passed along, a safe hand to hold,
lucky pennies hidden in deep pockets,
these be the innocent passages
of our fragile and carefree youth.

Kisses and giggles spilled uncontrolled and flowing.
Eager eyes, lopsided smiles and clumsy hands.
Our loyal companions of trust and truth,
their pounding breath alongside us as we ran.

Years fallen and scattered,
aimless in our deadline distracted mind.
The heart hold's fast the hope of reclamation,
to be given back,
just a glimpse once more, our simpler times.

A grown child's past.
Time that won't wait for us to linger,
Pink and purple horizons
within our soulful eyes are cast.
Skipping along the stoneway
stopping to gaze upon a brilliant golden sun.
See the field of wild daisies and giant cosmos.
Watch the children that we were,
wave to us and run.

Written
By
Sage
<FONT SIZE=1 COLOR=Black FACE="Comic Sans MS">2002 CopyrightSAGE</FONT>

Falling
____________

The outline of your mouth
As it fell on mine

Like the morning after,
As your denim shirt

Fell on your body,
Fitting perfectly

_______________
Gillian

Landscape
________________________

Last night I painted a landscape,
with you on the horizon

A canvas of huge dimension measuring
almost seven years.

Layers of bright primary childlike colours,
crimson reds, startling blues, brilliant sun-filled yellows.

Half of it now hangs in my gallery of
what could have been,

The other sits on a ledge hidden
behind a salty waterfall.

You’ve Taken Me Hostage (c)

You’ve taken me hostage,
Captured my imagination.
Though we’ve never met,
You know me . . . and I you.

I’ve not seen your face,
Your smile, your lips,
But hold dear my visions
Of how special our time will be . . .

Just wanted to say how lovely it is to see princessdy again. Hope things are well with you.

Gillian

WOW you guys are so talented!!

Now I'm no poet AT All - prose is my "thing" but just wanted to join in - this is something I wrote a while back ... ( don't laugh! :p well you can if you want !!)



I'm disappearing - your making me small.
Your need is engulfing
you're eating my soul.

You didn't warn me - you didn't explain,
how much you grow
when I am in pain.

Now I must leave
or I'll soon disappear.
I am what you made me,
don't drown in your tears

There's nothing inside here and I have to go.
Your not a man your a sucking black hole.

Not very uplifting I'm afraid!!

Dee xx

These poems are all so good but I am not surprised because I am familiar with the high caliber of responses to various posts here at AL.

My writing comes from things that I just can't deal with. It is me trying to expain pain mostly. I don't think I have ever been moved enough by joy to write a poem about it, or felt thte need to, I guess. The joy fills up the need to express feelings in written word. Seems trivial.

I am posting a poem from day we buried my husband. That was my most prolific time...

Graveside Service by Abby Finn


This is the year that
you won't hear the geese
returning

that you won't tell me about
the changes in the lake
as it "turns over" in spring

that you won't spend
your days trying to
get away from the pain
that became your pitiful biography.

This is the year that
you won't have to
renew your driver's license,

the form stares at me from the desk
calling for some kind of attention
that I can't bear to give.

And this is the day
that you won't go with me
in the truck
to the grave of a fine man
adored by his wife
who,
against his will
had to leave her.

This day we won't talk
about the unbelievable sadness
of life
we won't pray together
for that woman's strength,
as we ponder our notions of
heaven and hell.

This is the day I'll check my own oil.

First time in thirty years.
__________________________________

Oh Abby!! That had me in tears. I'm really moved!

((((((((HUGS))))))

Dee xx

Thank you Dee. Love your new avatar.

I just heard a quote on Meet the Press, no less. They are talking about the presidential primaries, so I am not sure how this ties in as I just stepped out the shower and returned to the tube....


An immature poet imitates.
A mature poet steals!

TS Eliot

Jus thought this was in keeping with this thread ;0)

Have any of the poets here tried out Zoetrope.com? I like this site and people review and offer criticism on your work. Good place to grow a poem.

Thanks Abby, it was when I was in the USA 2 yrs ago. Had a great time can't wait to go back!

Dee x

4th Season

This composition describes the last & final phase of the 4 seasons of love. It has been quite a while since the separation. The hate, the frustration, the anger & the agony have all died down. The colors are coming back into life. The phrase "Time is the greatest healer" is beginning to sound real.

As I slowly stroll by the sea.....
Only tiny sparkling drops are falling on me
A slight breeze is grooming my hair
At long last, I feel again the heartbeat of yesteryear
The heart which had died in want, Oh! So long ago
I sense it's old passion & flair is again about to show
Over the horizon I see the rays breaking through the clouds
I finally understand now, this is what time is all about
The great healer, I now know, has cured yet another
A life rekindled which I now feel, hope leaves me never
Towards the sky I look & pray for peace of heart & mind
A companion with a beautiful heart I wish, I seek to find
To walk alongside me, step in step, on the path of life
To be strong, to be loyal, no matter what the strife
The sun has broken through; the clouds are blown away
Life must carry on, remember, to & fro is it's sway
The storm has passed, the skies are clear; the land is golden once again
The scars are healed, old memories have faded, the heart is singing once again.

That was beautiful Solitude ... I think we have all felt that way before ...

I tend to write when I am inspired by love or the thought or hope of love ... Sometimes it is in remembering ... but more so in going forward. And for all the time I have been at ageless, I have not posted my poetry ... This is a good thing for me to do ... I am taking baby steps :)

Searching (c)

Searching, seeking, from the depths of my soul
For life, love and immortality
Just a happenstance, a dream, or less
Something all can believe, but mostly . . . me.


The One (c)

Is there a place where I can stop and breath
Or do I forever continue my search
Is there one who will love, encourage and cherish me
Or am I like so many destined to live from love to love

I don’t always know where I’m going
But I’m so very sure I must be free
To be the me God had originally intended
To express all that I am . . . that way He has for me

Where is that man, that love, that special person
With whom I can be real and give all that I am
As one of many women longing for that expression
With that one sensitive, loving, and caring sweet man

I continue to believe he waits for me, even now
Though many years later I hope, I pray, I know
That one, I desire and long for in advance of our meeting
The sheer anticipation of lives once alone, and then finally . . .
At last . . . Together.

dy :)

Touch
______

I can touch myself
And imagine your hands
Opening my body -
Opening scarlet, velvet petals
Moistened by
Your need
__________________
Gillian

Gillian, I'm similing ... :D That was beautiful ...

hugs,

dy

Thanks Dy, I'm glad you like it. Here's one I wrote this weekend.
_______________________________________

Curving back roads,
stinging, gravel-packed tire treads,
dust clouded rear view mirror

The next-exit Highway,
rush-hour clogged with going the
same-way traffic

Tokens required to cross
the sing-song, resonating
metal lift-bridge

My fingers searching
your body-map
for a place to start loving you

Gillian

You Say...


You say,
"now what?"

I hug you,
hold you.
over my shoulder
you are
checking the
messages on your
phone

you say,
what?
what do you want?

I hold you
closer
tighter.
how many ways can I
tell you what I need? hungry
for your response
that would pull me up
closer
tighter

you say,
Mama’s a little
nympho, isn’t she?

Stepping back,
fighting the urge to
attack
to inflict pain
to see you bleed
as I kick and bite
and beat you
for the stupid
shallow insult
I realize
you just don’t know.

you don’t understand
what a simple statement
encompasses in
a woman.

a simple statement
“hold me”

it’s not your fault.
conceding, I
move forward
and take what I
can get

again


Abby Finn
10/24/02

Lovely stuff Abby - is that your real name "Abby Finn?" What a great name! I don't know if we're supposed to keep this thread going or post a new thread everytime we have a poem to share. No matter I guess. Here's one about a chance meeting with someone this past Sunday.
__________________________________

Meeting

A psychologist he said,
a poet too,
the blue-eyed
dark-haired
man I met last night.

Just something about
saphire matched
with ebony
that I can't ignore,
or dismiss as coincidental
happenstance.

Gillian

The dark is where I dwell;
My home away from a living Hell.
Evil thoughts cloud my mind;
As the darkness overwhelms Mankind.

A simple step through the door;
Onto the soft, spongy floor.
Darkness covers my entire mass;
Soft flesh and sparkling glass.

Journeying through streets on the run;
Counting the shadows, one by one.
Healthy thoughts, what a pity.
Such infests this Goddamned city.

Life is not forever, such as people fail to understand;
When the end comes they will always flee this land.
Stranger things shall come to pass, as I don my mask;
Feel the chilled winds as I glare and tip my flask.

The night is young but I am not;
Lustful thoughts of decay and rot.
Soon I shall pass away;
To come back another day.

Originally posted by princessdy
That was beautiful Solitude ... I think we have all felt that way before ...


Thanks dy for going through it... :)

I still smile
Deep within my heart and soul, pain and tears grow
But I try to smile and laugh all the time, so misery wouldnt show

Its not like I bottle up my feelings and live a lie
But why should I live in depression, that can cause me to die?

Even though my heart is sad and broken into pieces
I wont surrender to the pain..
This happens to all species!

I try to live my life .. enjoy and no matter what I still smile
Even though it wont stick for long and last me for a while

I know i am unhappy for so many reaons but why cry all the time?
I can still manage to enjoy myself as it is not a crime..

Dont think because you hurt me I will always suffer..
There's still energy in me that to myself I can offer

No matter how hurt I am inside
I will still open up and smile so wide

Because as life taught me how to love you ..
It taught me how to love myself too!

No matter how hurt you think I am , I am still going to smile
Yes , I am going to smile..
Even if it was for while..

I really like this poem i wrote.. not because it is good or anything as it is short with nothing special but the meaning to it is deep for myself and i think it means a lot personally...

Hi everyone, especially Sage. I just wanted to say I have enjoyed reading all this poetry and I have also been reading the things you have had to share in other forums as well.
I, too, enjoy writing and I have a collection of favorite poetry as well as poetry I have written myself.
I am kind of new here but I will try to be courageous enough to share some of it soon. Tonight, I need to do some other things. Thanks again for all the beautiful poems!

Thank you for the compliment Lillerenee!
I hope you will share some of your poetry too.
I'd love to read it.

I haven't been writing much lately
and I miss it.
Life and it's many distractions,
get the best of me and it's so hard to sit
and write.

To all of you-
I have loved reading the poetry you share.
It's such a gift to be able to write
and you are so very gifted.

I don't pop into this thread as much
as I should and I will try to get in here
much more often.

Happy Writing!



<FONT SIZE=5 COLOR=768A76 FACE="Lucida Handwriting">~Sage~ </FONT><img src="http://ChasingDownTheBlue.homestead.com/files/lilfairy.gif">

<FONT SIZE=2 COLOR=Black FACE="Tempus Sans ITC">I don't want no one to squeeze me-
they might take away my life
I just want someone to hold me
and rock me through the night
This youthful heart can love you
and give you what you need
But I'm too old to go chasing you around
Wasting my precious energy
Give me one reason to stay here-
and I'll turn right back around
</FONT><FONT SIZE=5 COLOR=Black FACE="Freestyle Script">Tracy Chapman</FONT>

New stuff from a Newbie. Hi everyone. I will share some of mine too.

Fingers of light snake across the bedroom floor
casting odd shapes over strewn clothes.

Wispy curtains ripple with the early morning breeze
bringing the scent of lilacs into the room.

Memories of sensual pleasures echo throughout
other realms of time, here in this place.

Long gone ghosts of passion, love and pain
intermingle with images of past secrets.

Melodies reverberate from the walls and lonely corners
sounding their notes of remembered longing.

Expressions of humanity creating a world unto itself
remaining forever on the wings of time.

I am gonna join 2 or 3 love making sites but it is really hard to choose I don't like to see my Email in the hand of spammers after joining a dating site I found list of dating sites here www.dating-directory.atspace.com but I want review

I Don't Know that Is it possible to find something inside this Bulletin using synonym words instead of exact words.
I searched for synonym words in http://www.google.com (http://www.google.com) and
http://www.boardexplorer.com (http://www.boardexplorer.com) and I found this Bulletin.
but inside the web site I could not find any intelligent search. you must know exact words to find similar topics
any one who knows something?