Poets' Corner (Serious Poems)
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20-02-2012, 09:55 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
Here's one I put together

my day was as dark as night
I was searching and seeking light
the beaten path was conquered
with life's predetermined offers

traveling without reason
not knowing time or season
I am a wanderer, a nomad
destined to live on sand

sand is ever shifting, unstable
the desert is flat like a table
the beaten path is no more
engulfed by times open door

ticking away, time is the true burden
ticking away, never taking pardon
ticking away, the sands pile higher
ticking away, life becomes dyer

alas, the sand has settled
I am no longer embattled
I am now one with the sand
no one to take my hand
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02-04-2012, 05:10 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
LXIII

i can only see
as far as the fading light
this life i think i live
begins at dawn and ends at night
with the times of in between
to hope that you visit my dreams
gwyneth, gwyneth
how could they ever say
that i must be with you
to love you
to want you
to need you
gwyneth, gwyneth
the very life of my day
to love you
to want you
to need you
i can only see
as far as the iron sky
the cloudbreak along the trees
the misting in my eyes
the one i'll never greet
the one i'll never bid goodbye
gwyneth, gwyneth
how could they ever know
that i could never be
without you.

(I pretty much wake up every morning singing to this girl. Broke. In the fucking head. Big Grin )

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02-04-2012, 05:20 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
Bumpings

For no matter how much I use these symbols, to describe symptoms of my existence.
You are your own emphasis.
So I say nothing.

-Bemore.
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05-04-2012, 05:39 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
Lets blame the immigrants for taking all of the jobs.
Lets blame the sick and the doleys the lazy, good for nothing slobs.
Lets blame each other for spending too much.
Lets all accept the price of these unneccesary cuts.
Lets blame the hooded youth for rioting the shops.
Lets give even more power to the allready armed to the teeth cops.
Lets have multiple wars on unseen faraway shores.
Lets kill innocent people for "freedom" more.
Let us divert our attention away.... each and every single day.
Let us fragment the bigger picture
Quoting biased media as our scripture.

For no matter how much I use these symbols, to describe symptoms of my existence.
You are your own emphasis.
So I say nothing.

-Bemore.
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05-04-2012, 08:31 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
This poem is pretty old, wrote it in my highschool days.
"Art Of Love"
Desire only sweet bliss, such ecstasy without escape
Two in unison are one complete whole
Intertwined bodies, taken by passion
Longing fulfilled; aching, throbbing soon ceases
AS two cascade with movement as the ocean waves
Rising and falling; tides of love
Eyes of two lover's meet
Visible all that lies within the heart
Such is the art of making love
Binding of a single soul
Lame I know..... thought I would share anyway.
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05-04-2012, 09:04 PM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2012 09:29 PM by GirlyMan.)
RE: Poets' Corner
Been absent from this thread for too long. All the new ones are just fucking brilliant.

(02-04-2012 05:10 AM)houseofcantor Wrote:  Broke. In the fucking head. Big Grin

I work it to my advantage brother. Wink

(05-04-2012 08:31 PM)AnotherSinner Wrote:  
Such is the art of making love
Binding of a single soul
Lame I know..... thought I would share anyway.

Not lame at all. Think that pretty much sums it up nicely. Smile

I am us and we is me. ... bitches.
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08-04-2012, 09:24 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
The W boson


whatever
whenever where.
it's the w boson.
it goes on and on
why
so i don't hafta cry
to say goodbye
to do and not try
whatever
whenever where
cannot pay me not to care
why
it's the w boson
it goes on and on
cannot die for all must share the why

whatever
gives me the time of day
cannot take the time
to be left behind
to see less
whatever

whatever whenever where
never find me there
undefined in your time
for i have not the time to spare.

(my Gwynnies? Thumbsup My, Gwynnies/Sammy A/Mary J? Hobo )

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13-05-2012, 12:49 PM (This post was last modified: 14-05-2012 03:45 PM by GirlyMan.)
RE: Poets' Corner
DLJ:

The White Dandelion
The cricket match has just started to slow
but the wives are already deep in conversation.
The warped wooden bench
creaks, in time
with rhythmic chatter.
On the field
their husbands
struggle to reach their 50 mark,
before the ulcer or the heart attack.
By the fence,
a baby,
running smoothly into childhood;
sitting on its foot,
dribbling bubbles,
studying the wonder of a white dandelion.
Eventually,
he plucks it,
caring nothing about disturbing
the balance of nature
and stumbles over to the bench.
Toe-heel, toe-heel.
He presents the plant,
in all its aged glory
to his mother.
She accepts it
blindly,
without a glance.
Toe-heel, toe-heel,
he wanders off again.
Seeing this;
a sense of pity.
I’m sure,
years ago,
in such an image,
my mother would have blown,
1 o’clock,
2 o’clock

and I,
would have watched,
bemused,
as the seeds,
danced on the wind
and disappeared.

I am us and we is me. ... bitches.
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13-05-2012, 05:36 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
(13-05-2012 12:49 PM)GirlyMan Wrote:  David Lee Jones:

The White Dandelion
Wow! What beauty? What art?
But who is that author... unknown to me?

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13-05-2012, 06:45 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
(13-05-2012 05:36 PM)DLJ Wrote:  
(13-05-2012 12:49 PM)GirlyMan Wrote:  David Lee Jones:

The White Dandelion
Wow! What beauty? What art?
But who is that author... unknown to me?

Fixed.

I am us and we is me. ... bitches.
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