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Your Cult. by LifeIsIronic
it is showing the darkenss of light!your hypocritical ways are jaded
i wish not to swallow your word
so upon me you spit your hatred
to me your words are seldom heard
you force
suggested by madhu -
A Fruity Poem by Brian Balzer
This poem is witty and fun, sure to make anyone smile.When I gave a banana,
to a girl named Savanah,
I thought it would be cute,
to try rhyming with fruit.
I started with lime,
which was easy to rhyme.
To rhyme with peach,
wasn't much of a reach.
I rhymed with a mango,
while doing the tango.
To rhyme with honey dew,
was easy to do.
I rhymed with a cantaloupe,
as fast as an antelope.
While rhyming with plumb,
I chewed on my thumb.
Rhyming with grape,
was sticky as tape.
To rhyme with apple,
I had to grapple.
When I thought of strawberry then blueberry,
things got hairy and a little bit scary.
Then I thought of tangerine,
and started feeling a little green
suggested by Lake Absence -
Accidental Worship by leanne.m
The young lady who wrote this amazing poem is very insightful. I stand in awe of her vision. I know nothing of form and such but this peice not only envokes strong emotion but truly makes the reader ponder their views, and those of society in general. She has several great works but this one I believe to be truly incredible. Not only is the poem and it's content amazing but it was simply put "written out of boredom. I personally was more than impressed! BKBFrom those tiny gold pieces you keep in your pocket,
To the big brash houses built in glass and chrome.
People seem to think
That within them exists a divine power.
Omniscient, omnipotent.
This existence, so they say,
Is the answer to all our problems,
It will feed the five thousand,
Turn water into wine.
It should be what we live for,
Our lives of acedemia and work will lead to this
Divine cause
Being a part of our lives.
It is, to believers,
The summum bonum,
The form of the good.
The presence of such a thing can change
The outlook of the beholder,
Like a religious experience
They will be a diff
suggested by Brian Balzer -
Accidental Worship by leanne.m
I previously nominated a poem for the front page entitled Accidental Worship. I had been talking a lot to another poet just prior to reading it. I just realized that in my comments I had called her by the wrong name. I wanted to make sure I had submitted her name correctly when I nominated her. The poem which moved me so much was by leanne.m. Please consider this poem carefully. Thank you.From those tiny gold pieces you keep in your pocket,
To the big brash houses built in glass and chrome.
People seem to think
That within them exists a divine power.
Omniscient, omnipotent.
This existence, so they say,
Is the answer to all our problems,
It will feed the five thousand,
Turn water into wine.
It should be what we live for,
Our lives of acedemia and work will lead to this
Divine cause
Being a part of our lives.
It is, to believers,
The summum bonum,
The form of the good.
The presence of such a thing can change
The outlook of the beholder,
Like a religious experience
They will be a diff
suggested by Brian Balzer -
China Earthquake by Windhover
this poem is written from the perspective of a victim in China's recent earthquake. it is a must-read!
My world caved in today
Now all is darkness
Only the radio, chirping away.
How can they play
music?
Twelve thousand and counting they say
It means nothing to me -
and I'm one of them.
My man and my child are here.
I know they're dead -
I can't see but I can feel
I wish I couldn't
Somewhere,
a few yards
and a thousand miles away
there's a chink of light.
It scourges me,
keeps me hoping.
Yesterday I had bills to pay,
but I'd abandoned hope.
Now I cling to its tiniest vestige
like it was something
real.
What I'd give
for the cares of yesterday
suggested by Papyrus -
China Earthquake by Windhover
this poem is a wothwhile read because it reguards the recent disasters in China.
My world caved in today
Now all is darkness
Only the radio, chirping away.
How can they play
music?
Twelve thousand and counting they say
It means nothing to me -
and I'm one of them.
My man and my child are here.
I know they're dead -
I can't see but I can feel
I wish I couldn't
Somewhere,
a few yards
and a thousand miles away
there's a chink of light.
It scourges me,
keeps me hoping.
Yesterday I had bills to pay,
but I'd abandoned hope.
Now I cling to its tiniest vestige
like it was something
real.
What I'd give
for the cares of yesterday
suggested by Papyrus -
Lament For Edie by marcusmoore
I believe that this piece is exceptional and just a masterpiece in everyway of the word. Mixing forms throughout his work consistently, but always improving. I believe that he deserves to be acknowledged for progressing and writing something so beautiful for somebody he didn't even know.A damaged beauty so
intriguing, she made
a gay man question his
sexuality.
Made a folk-singer,
song-writer call her
a "Rolling Stone".
The vanity.
Every girl from Jersey,
wants her cheek bones.
A vulnerable strength
blossomed from her eyes.
Always apprehensive to,
aspire to another's assessment
about an appearance of herself.
So fragile, bled to death
from a papercut.
Stuck inside of a
parallel universe.
Never knowing what
is really what.
Like when people tell her
that everytime
they see her,
she has a different
style or look.
Is it good?
Or bad?
An un
suggested by LeftTurnsOnly -
If I were lying, I would have written nothing at all by ravenontheleft
this is poem is like an amusement roller coaster ride that takes you through the haunted house, and fun house as the carousel music plays and crazy women laughs insanly.I am a steaming cup of urine
a disembodied head
a rat’s nest made of curly straws
a velosa raptor
with carrots for teeth
a colostomy bag
(only sometimes full of shit)
like now
I’ll eat your face for breakfast…
really any meal of the day
that also goes for the rest of you
double for some parts
I can put your ass in a Tupperware beside my bed
or your eyeballs in the pickle juiced jar
take a picture with my camera phone
set it as your caller id
you can wear the same jeans 8 times in a row
I do it myself
take 2 hours to do your hair
keep your flat iron on all night
for touch ups
I’ll use it when I pret
suggested by dave ochs -
Questions by purple esprit
New to our site, the poet is a European, still learning English. For that reason alone, her poem is amazing, but so is its mature heart. Please read. LadDid I hear that certain song
Leading me from days going wrong?
When the melody sweetly sang
Erasing my heart’s aching pang.
Did I feel those soothing dreams
Leaving light and warmth that gleams?
A touch of love like a gentle breeze
Giving my mind that needed ease.
Did I see that reason for living
A tender reply to what I’m giving?
Dreams appeared like mysterious smoke
Then faded early when I woke.
Did I smell the promising rose
Filling my inside with words of prose?
Creating sweet desire of love
Lifting me up to the light above.
Did I let my emotions take hold
Allowing what my heart has told?
Of all t
suggested by Lad -
Quebec, My Muse, and Me by Terry-too
An excellent example of poetic wonderment
Note, very long: The story spans 60 years.
The children are asleep,
and I their mother, have been
sorting files. Tossing tangled tales
and putative poetry, pausing. . . .
Here's a long one. "Cephalorphan Misfit."
Orphan, cast away, abandoned reject?
Foot-in-mouth, perhaps? Or secret?
With no memory of the poem, I read on:
"That time of week is here again." Yes,
I write. "The whole week holds its breath
awaiting this day; winds hold their blowing."
Hmm, thought I. I remember,
week-ends were the only time to write.
Judging by the date, I taught.
High-school French it was then.
(Flipping pages.) This
suggested by Barbara -
Used Owned? by gnosisonG
I read it 5 times over and was mesmerized. It is so in depth and deep and true and grounding. I cannot say enough about it, and I am just talking about the power it emits. It form is perfect.
The hippy who lost happy
Trudged through the gutter
Below a cold turkey moon
Morse-coding gibberish
To the hot-wired brows
Of a lunatic fringe.
A husk of no-hoper
Wearing naught but smoke-rings,
Clutches at straws from scare-
Crows blown off tack
By ill-windfalls channelling
Chemical currents...
Swept to sea
In a peagreen boat
Afloat on aseed
Waves of yesterday´s
Flashback frescos
And burnt-out Guernicas,
Dazed trippers link
Lungs with dopers –
Resin-tarred from rising
Damp of chillum stem.
Hay Judes sow weeds,
Flush cornucopias –
And herbal tea aych seas.
Slackening sails succumb
T
suggested by pemaquid -
Dark Light by Windhover
I dont need to give any reasons.Just read it and acht it and you ll see.Dark Light
the rock, ocean and sky
on which we fly through space
drew its shadow like a slow shutter
across the face of the shining moon
and soon the last glinting
of that familiar mystery
no longer shone
yet it was far
from gone
the rare phenomenon of a total lunar eclipse
had not concealed our cosmic companion
but revealed it
sombre and strangely new in our night sky
a living, solid object I could feel
ominous and
somehow
real
and in its halflight
why
suggested by Ludmila607 -
The Cradle Tree. by gnosisonG
An amazing story that is expressed creatively. It was neat to read the change of pace while the man is in the midst of being hung. I had to re-read to fully appreciate the flow of the poem, but was happy to do s
Dappled hues streaming
Light as emerald sparkle
Filtered through an insect eye
A rustling symphony showers
Sound widening an infant
World smells of sap,
Laden leaf and blossom.
Touching rough bark
Tasting the green air
As his cradle tips to and fro
Beneath a soothing canopy
Later, on that endless Summer day
A boy with frayed shorts and scuffed knees
Climbing Jack’s beanstalk to discover
A land richer than he dared imagine
Sitting on the shoulder of a friendly giant
Gazing at the undulating roll of field and forest
And a vast majestic sky
<
suggested by chisox731 -
Horizon by Windhover
This is one of the most lyrical contemporary erotic love poems ever seen anywhere, including those published by famous poets. Its masterful technique and purity of images are perfection. See for yourself.After the storm
the world returned to her
piecemeal
and she heard her own cries
like a visitor to the seaside hears gulls
and thinks it alien
Her breathing rasped
like the swell of the water on shingle shore
and the roar of her heartbeat -
or was it his?-
pulsed like breaking
waves
Weight pressed and soothed her
like warm sand
piled high by playing children
their small and giddy cries
fading, receding
and her peace had depth
of mighty ocean
its mystery
and its hue-
she the deep blue sea
and he
her sky
suggested by Lad -
I stopped once by Kiddy
This poem is wonderfully written, and everyone could relate to this poem so much! This poem gives people a little bit more relief, to see someone else pain and relate to the poemI stopped once
startled for a moment
lived a short life –
just a gone glance!
I walked for a mile
ruminated a while
doubted another life –
one finer lesson.
I asked ‘why’
not even a reply
intended with a new-
oh! it’s just my view.
I wanted more
days, hardly a score
were there to live -
god! you didn’t give!
I missed the treasure
nothing can measure
my grief at heart-
everything fell apart!
suggested by lilyqueen777
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