Poets' Corner
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08-02-2012, 08:25 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
(07-02-2012 09:25 PM)bemore Wrote:  No one has posted anything in here for a while...

I posted one 2 weeks ago, but it is discouraging to be the only one posting here.

Bemore, you posted some very impressive poems before. So did Cantor, Peterkin and others.

So what happened?

You guys stopped writing poetry?

That would be sad. Sad
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08-02-2012, 12:25 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
OK, Here is one I have not posted yet on this thread (once used it to cheer up bemore elsewhere), maybe it will jolt others to contribute.

Black cat

The black cat
sits on the arm of my chair,
very comfortably, indeed.
A thin piece of his hair
stuck to the pen I am holding,
as a reminder,
a strand
tying us together.

He is warm, friendly,
a living thing,
like I am,
with fears, affections
and a need to share
and communicate.

His back is turned towards me,
suggesting indifference…
…but I know better:
he depends on me
as I do - on him.

Warm, soft, vulnerable,
maybe we have a lot more in common
than interdependence…
…maybe it is life,
shared and divided,
holding us together.

A soft, purring sound
is the only sign of his being alive,
and I drink it in
as if it were survival.

I love this cat
because he’s so human,
so much like me
that it scares me a little.

Is this all we are?
Are we reduced
to our hopes, needs, fears?
Is everything else
only pretense? ...

...Maybe it just doesn’t matter,
maybe it is enough
to be soft and cuddly.
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08-02-2012, 06:24 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
(07-02-2012 09:25 PM)bemore Wrote:  No one has posted anything in here for a while....to kick start the thread back together if people post some poems from now the one with the most likes by the 10th feb 10GMT I shall put to some dark music and I shall read the poem

Why do we need to restrict it to new poems? How about the most likes of any poem in the thread by 10 Feb?

#sigh
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09-02-2012, 01:47 PM
RE: Poets' Corner
(08-02-2012 06:24 PM)GirlyMan Wrote:  
(07-02-2012 09:25 PM)bemore Wrote:  No one has posted anything in here for a while....to kick start the thread back together if people post some poems from now the one with the most likes by the 10th feb 10GMT I shall put to some dark music and I shall read the poem

Why do we need to restrict it to new poems? How about the most likes of any poem in the thread by 10 Feb?

Yeah I did think that after posting Confused

Tis up to the people Big Grin

I feel so much, and yet I feel nothing.
I am a rock, I am the sky, the birds and the trees and everything beyond.
I am the wind, in the fields in which I roar. I am the water, in which I drown.
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16-02-2012, 12:38 PM (This post was last modified: 17-02-2012 05:32 PM by Zat.)
RE: Poets' Corner
Fair Trade

In wars
we trade with the enemy:
left arm for a right eye,
burnt face for a kidney,
orphans for orphans,…
it’s not always a fair trade
but the one who was counting
is already dead.

It’s all so practical,
supply lines for
our tools:
shells, bullets,
gas for our trucks, tanks,
and our flame throwers too...
paper clips, pencils, official forms
that need to be filled in
with the names of the dead.

Surgeons operate
on conveyor belt
of young people,
so full of blood…
and we don’t always have
the right kind
to fill them up,
help them to kill
more boys,
on the wrong side,
heroic dead.

Our pilots drop bombs
on your village,
in exchange for the same...
our wives will weep for us,
answered by the sobbing
of your loved ones,
back where you have been
dragged from, or duped,
to come here,
to be crippled or dead.

When it’s all over
with nothing accomplished,
our leaders will make
noble speeches
while wreaths will be hung
over crosses in neat rows
in a white forest,
flags draped over caskets,
and the heroic wool
over stupid, stupid, gullible minds,
lamenting the fate
of the glorious dead.
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16-02-2012, 10:25 PM (This post was last modified: 16-02-2012 10:26 PM by houseofcantor.)
RE: Poets' Corner
Valentine

valentine
are you only there to remind
of all I've left behind
of all lost in the fray
standing in the queue
mind full of what I could not say
take it the fuck away valentine
sign me up on the dotted line
sift from my coarse your fine
and nothing on nothing stay
all the games we play
on this day

pastel in the rain
though to ease my pain
but only pain
remains

valentine
are you there to confine
do you pay in kind
or is it just a way
to have and hold your say
all the gods curse this day
take it the fuck away valentine
sign me up on the dotted line
lift from my mortal your divine
and all we have is time...

I love my Gwynnies!
(08-02-2012 08:25 AM)Zat Wrote:  
(07-02-2012 09:25 PM)bemore Wrote:  No one has posted anything in here for a while...

I posted one 2 weeks ago, but it is discouraging to be the only one posting here.

Bemore, you posted some very impressive poems before. So did Cantor, Peterkin and others.

So what happened?

You guys stopped writing poetry?

That would be sad. Sad
Nah, alien. Lack of catalyst. Wink

[Image: ZF1ZJ4M.jpg]
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20-02-2012, 01:32 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
I wrote this looking back 40 years, sure wish this thread existed back then.

looking for god

he’s looking for some kind of sign
listening for an answer in between the firing pistons
his restless tennis shoe presses hard for an answer
hurdling to the edge of the envelope for any hint
blacktop and white dots swirl his hair

115 mph down the turnpike in a rebuilt mercury
16 year old fingers grip the wheel at 10 and 2
37 miles to the hospital where his daddy lays
2 more weeks of waiting for a miracle

for an end to an aching heart
for a State Trooper to reel him in
for a blowout to erase all questions
for Jesus to remove him from the stage

no revelation
no burning bush
no parting of the seas
no immaculate concepts

hospital exit sign ahead is the only clue he sees
he slows, pulls off and drives to his destiny
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20-02-2012, 07:25 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
The Old Man's Fire

Towards evening
as the dust settles on his worn and weary armchair
the glow from the fire
dances shadows
across his face.

Get up old man, get up.
Show me the shadows of your former self.

He stirs,
still staring at the flames,
as he remembers the flames of his youth.

Tell me of your life, old man,
let me live it from you.

In his flames, faces are lost and found
and places, where he could have rested
and in resting been content.
Some flames left their mark,
others faded.

Give them to me, old man,
for I do not want
to travel through your fire places.
Let me start where you finish.

He clutches death’s blanket close to him
for he expects death,
welcomes it.

Quickly old man, before it’s too late.
He turns his head slowly:
“I’ll tell you, boy, but can you listen?”

The fire tells us of his past;
the lively girls disguised as women,
the men he envied and admired.
The fire tells all,
But who can read another man’s fire.

So rest old man
And let the fire die
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20-02-2012, 09:30 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
from an old friend

A Reason for Wrinkles
by Paul Douglas Scott

Wrinkles are folds
in the largest organ of the body.
New undulations and convolutions.
Perhaps one way of increasing our surface interface
of awareness and sensitivity as we grow older,
in our latter contact with new realities.
To compensate for our lessening faculties,
to aid our reassessment of being?
Perhaps, to be looked upon
as the origami option of human capacity...?

If you pray to anything, you're prey to anything.
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20-02-2012, 09:43 AM
RE: Poets' Corner
The young man arrived earlier
than expected but the efficient
hotel staff were ready.
he declared his name to be Ram,
a descendent of David,
and asked for his room.
the boy led him up the stairs
while his donkey was taken around
to the stable at the back.
It was a pleasant evening
so he left his room and informed
the proprietor that he would be gone
for about an hour and
could he have some refreshments in
his room for when he returns.
he left the hotel and wandered around
the small town taking in the evening air.
On arriving back at his hotel he saw that
the owner was engaged in conversation
with a young couple,
who looked most tired and weary
from a long journey.
the owner was sympathetically explaining
that he was fully booked
and that they would have to try elsewhere
the couple were explaining that
there was nowhere else and that they would
take the smallest of rooms.
the young man could see that
the man’s wife was in a ‘delicate condition’ and so,
in the interest of humanity, he decided to
give them his room and sleep in the
stable with his donkey and added
that it was not the first time he had had to do so.
the couple expressed their gratitude
and accepted his offer

And no star appeared
And no wise men came
For no prophecy was fulfilled
And the young man left Bethlehem,
Thinking that through his deed,
The world would be
A better and happier place.
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