Poetry

LOST

When the day is going down 'It's so quiet all around.
I always go sit by the sea' I daze and dream what my life
Was suppose to be.As I'm leaving there one night' i seen these wonderful green eye's and what a sight.
He seen me crying there that nightstand said whatever your
Problem you have to learn to fight. As we sat and looked around he kissed my cheek ' And said you need to get away' and leave this crazy ole town. As i confided what had been'
He said baby looks like i may be your one and only friend.
Then he said i will help you get away' as this life your living is not ok... He took me by the arms' and we started walking fast
When out of my eye I seen this Monster from my past.
I tried to scream ' i tried to run but that shadowed figure
shot all my hopes and dreams with a damn magnum 44 gun.


This is to a really special friend in my life' and i hope he likes it,,

2007-12-14 11:41:43 · 7 answers · asked by Cami lives 6

This poem was read at a Christmas Pageant in 1978

2007-12-14 09:25:31 · 1 answers · asked by churchmouse 1

I truly love my home and family...
but feel the give a damn, of me.
Do they expect me to follow in their footsteps?
My grandfather gave me cigs and beer,
I smoked them up and drank to cheeriness.
Until I had a taste of "fearless".
But suddenly, I feel love for my life,
I haven't even carried my pocket knife.
I know death to be part of life,
so I'll live until I die, as it goes.
I would do anything for those who loved me...
I'm a worthy piece of laughter...
will you feel my pain after?
I care not for I'll only laugh it away myself.
I know so much, and have so little wealth.

I'd be willing to play the fool...
I'd be more than willing to make it to school...
Perhaps Seattle...or, Philadelphia or Boston...
my mind being torn between things so often.
I would give up a habit, if asked;
or double its use.
I'm getting tired of the abuse.

2007-12-14 09:23:21 · 1 answers · asked by Anonymous

ok i have a poety book thing due monday.
and i need a good poem at least 16 lines.
does anyone have a fav. poem or just a good one they could give me? i cant find any online so if u could help me i thank u alot.

oh and not to confuseing something that a 13 year old would understand. i have to write 5 paragraphs on it.

2007-12-14 09:02:56 · 2 answers · asked by ..... 6

I wrote this poem earlier today, and i was wondering opions on it. I want to make it clear and I want to make sure its undersandable to people whom dont know any packground on the situation which i wrote it. What do you take away from it, what do you think i ment by it?? 1-10 what do you think? THANK YOU!

2007-12-14 08:50:38 · 9 answers · asked by Sincerely Yours 3

silence

How tragic to you it may seem,
To cleanse my soul of pain.
There may be no tomorrows,
When yesterdays just demean.

A silent cry, I scream aloud,
Yet no one hears but me.
Crushed beneath the shadows,
Of my own burden vast.

Too late to hold on anymore,
Behind my emerald eyes.
The fire once deep inside me,
Has gone out, completeley cold.

Look deep down inside me,
Please tell me what yoiu see,
How deep flows the river of fate,
In the silence of the hours late.

2007-12-14 08:48:45 · 5 answers · asked by The Dark Prince 3

heavens' pain

She sits upon her velvet throne,
With blood she rules, the evil drone.
Do not you see the darkness dear?
The cursed night filled with fear.

Revenge for all the lives you took,
My agony is all I seem to feel.
Pain is just a fact of life,
A life that now is torn with strife.

Cut off your nose to spite her face,
Forgiveness now is for the weak.
Before the reign of heavens pain,
I dare you know, just don't complain.

You have ripped my heart apart,
How many times must this be done?
I love you now this time forever,
How many times I start anew.

Give into your dark desires,
Your old cuts, to be admired.
Get down on your knees and beg,
It seems so funny, no one leaves alive.

2007-12-14 08:17:12 · 10 answers · asked by The Dark Prince 3

Out The Window

Out the window...grey, chilly day
Highlighted by tall weeds...backyard.
Tired leaves. Too exhausted to fight
For color, flippin down...spiraling a
'Goodbye'.

Out the window...Winter has won
Again. Time of trials has come.
Wolf curled on pine needles...still.
Bushy tail over her face...warm.

Out the window...
One Magnolia blossom...

Elysabeth...poemhunter

2007-12-14 08:02:44 · 32 answers · asked by Elysabeth 7

2007-12-14 06:56:13 · 1 answers · asked by Angel R 1

*****

Crocuses are just two months away
Tulips and the Daffodils are not that far behind
In time, we’ll sow the seeds, we’ll feed the trees
Build trellises for vines entwined
And fill the starter trays inside
With herbs and greens and sweet young things
Like paradise,
Spring garden…nice…

*****

2007-12-14 05:59:58 · 11 answers · asked by Anonymous

They Were Wrong All Along






Mother,
Can you save me
from what they have
did and done?

Murder,
mischief,
congregating
I’ve misplaced my gun

Melt away
the steel re-bar
that now surrounds
your son

Oh,
Mother
will I get life
or just be hung?

Father,
Can you rid me
of my chaos
and my dreams?

Hand me back
my childhood
‘least back then
were better things

Take away
my cell mates,
wash away their
brutal stings

Oh,
Father,
get this case
appealed for me!

Mother,
Should this letter
find you safe
and doing well,

Know that
I’m no longer
living in my
private hell

Last night
after dinner
I returned back
to my cell

Tied the noose,
kicked out the chair
and ended
tales to tell

Father,
Should this letter
get to you before
Mom’s comes

Let her know
I’m innocent,
I came across
my gun

Tommy
lifted prints off mine
to prove
it could be done

Please,
tell her
they were wrong
all along...

2007-12-14 04:59:51 · 4 answers · asked by TrollHunter 3

I know that they are American Literature..How about their style of writings? How are they similar

2007-12-14 04:55:19 · 2 answers · asked by pegasus_puck 4

Santa Claus is Bumming In Town




You better watch out
You better best hide
All your coins and bills
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is Bumming In Town

He's making a list
He's checking it twice
He's going ta bump off
Someone at the right price
Santa Claus is Bumming In Town

He watches when you're sleeping
And please make no mistake
He'll pry valuables from your cold dead hands
So don't sleep for goodness sake!

So you better watch out
You better best hide
All your coins and bills
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is Bumming In Town

The girls and boys on Main Street
Have plans to attack
They're gonna build a gas‑chamber
Just to pay o’l Santa back!

So you better watch out
You better best hide
All your coins and bills
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is Bumming In Town.

2007-12-14 04:53:36 · 7 answers · asked by TrollHunter 3

*****

Old, frail forms walk these darkened hills
No one sees them, you see
They sing a song to the cold North Wind
Nobody hears as they plead

Rocks replace children where they played
No fairytales, no leaves
The game has faded to shades of gray
Winter colors subtle contrast

We roam this ground with heads held low
No memory, a lucky place to be
Opaque apparitions from another time
Out of place, faceless…ancestry

***

2007-12-14 04:52:55 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

Let's start with a melody everybody knows. How about the Marine Corps Hymn...

'FROM the HALLS of MONTezuma
TO the SHORES of TRIpoli'

Begin...

*****

In the old parts of my memory
Are the things I've said and done
All the people that have rode with me
In the rain or beating sun

2007-12-14 02:58:16 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

The Poets

Is a peek all we get of the Beginning...
Is that 'away-time' kept...beguiled
In the Hills of Changlings...
I will foster this child...

The Neverling...in the Now of Prescience.
This peek of Tarns, Barrows, Wights
That fought ancient gods into being...
Tantalizing feast for new children

Born ever as Changlings, all...
Be the sunrise that begets fostering of
Beauty, to see Elves in the Clearing...
Bright, shimmering Light flowing into

Souls of Poets...all.

2007-12-14 02:55:34 · 6 answers · asked by Elysabeth 7

Poem 1:
My Dear Aunt Dot, left a glock and some blood on my sheets
Told me clean the sh!t up, then she hit the streets
Even though I'm her niece, she copped me a piece
Damn.. what went wrong?
Can't we all just get along, and make hit songs?
B!tches all up in my a$$ like a thong
If this was a show, y'all h0es would get "gonged"
Cause if it's on, then it's on, bring it on
What the fvck you waitin for? C'mon, let's get it on

Poem 2:
To me she was my lover, and also a dear friend,
To others she was a blow up doll, that pleasured my rear end,

The day my sweetheart left me, was the day I smoked some hash,
The cherry bounced from my bong, and landed on her gash.

The melting plastic smelt horrible, the stench of death was bad,
In my memories I'll hold her, like the time I shared her with my dad.

My sweethearts gone for good now, and I'll never forget my Jen,
now I've traded her in for a new model, a lovely gent named Ken.
Now Ken, he made my heart race, it never skipped a beat,
Especially when he jiggled, and played with my man meat...


Poem 3:

Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Flashing all the old ladies by lifting his night-gown,
Tapping at the window, grabbing for his glock,
"Are the women in their beds, for it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey, Willie Winkie, are you coming in?
Come and have a drink with us, won't you have some gin?,
The wife is spread out on the floor, and she's really cheap,
And here's a naughty midget who will not fall asleep!"
Anything but sleep, you rogue! come and whip some poon,
Come punish this filthy wh0re, slap her with a spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling round about, garnishing his c0ck,
Shrieking like I don't know what, sleeping with the gobbledock.
"Hey, Willie Winkie - a deal is a deal!
See that woman wriggling around like an eel?,
Tugging at his you-know-what, and slapping women's bums
Hey, Willie Winkie - see, there he cuums!"
Weary is the woman who sounds a dirty moan,
A small short little diddle, who can't cvm on his own,
Who always has a battle with sheep before he'll squirt in an eye
But a kiss from her rosy lips makes me say "bye bye".

2007-12-14 02:43:31 · 11 answers · asked by Chelz 2

2007-12-14 01:46:48 · 10 answers · asked by Elaine P...is for Poetry 7

...while i'm supposed to be studying Coleridge, Wordsworth, Blake and Byron for my presentation next week! hee-hee =)

2007-12-14 01:06:27 · 10 answers · asked by Dark Dickinsonian 4

Torn Art
My heart is black, burnt by the actions of you,
You speak, and we hear the cries of the abused.
An ethereal being, made from the dark,
the night is your breeding ground, your area of delight.

I used to love you, never wanted to be apart,
But you changed, what happened to my sweet piece of art?

Angels in heaven, being of light,
they were once jealous, jealous of your elegant parts.
Skin of lace, hair of gold,
a voice so angelic, it was meant for heaven to behold.
Breath of roses, eyes of sweet ice,
I wanted to hold it, I wanted to be a part.

What happened to your innocence, what happened to your heart,
I want to see it bleed, know it's still intact.
Where did your love go, did it fly away,
did those envious stares finally have their way?

Now your words just drop, like acid tart,
just like your soul, You're falling apart.

2007-12-14 01:02:59 · 1 answers · asked by SilverFantasy 1

*****

The ghost of Sarah Danski moans a long, slow song,
Along the roadway where her life was cut so short,
She calls the name again…she cries about her sin,
So all the world will know that she was killed by him,

The ghost of Meagan Cox is still inside the car,
She wants to wipe the blood off of her body now,
Before someone comes by and sees that she has died,
She always was so careful in her look and style,

The ghost of Mathew Martin has the jug of wine,
He’s trying to make the juice go back inside somehow,
The parts of Bobby’s car are scattered everywhere,
And the rustle in the bushes is him…awake,

He sits up for a moment in the smoke and dust,
With eyes that see the things that just cannot be real,
The horror of it all chills up and down his spine,
And as he tries to stand…six ghostly hands take hold,

*****

2007-12-14 00:50:56 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

*****

Where in these passages of ancients
Does it say that we are here to serve mankind
Is it carved in stone
Called down from a golden throne
At a place that’s way up in the clouds

Why must we abide by sculpted tablets
Handed down by men with fiery eyes
How is the story told
When does the truth unfold
About how we will find the promised land

Which code of conduct keeps us civil
When all we want to do is kill and kill
What holds back the devil
Where’s the shield from evil
Who can put the sword into a holy hand

*****

2007-12-14 00:48:58 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

*****

The pathway home is easy to recall
At a pace quite slower than before
A stop cannot be planned, you see
The turns are less exciting
I watch for signs of change
As the red light glows
And motor roars
May I go
Driving
Past

*****

2007-12-14 00:46:57 · 12 answers · asked by Anonymous

The Plant

A seed was given to a child
By his loving Father,
He asked him to let it grow,
To give the love it needs.

They planted it together,
In a garden full of color,
The child loved the seed
As he loved his Dad.

Everyday he checks on it,
Making sure it’s watered,
Everyday he shows his love,
To the seed of his.

Years passed and still he does
The things his Father told him,
The seed now has become a plant,
A beautiful plant of life.

But sadly as the years go by
He started to forget.
He was focused on the newer things,
The things that he now love.

The once a lovely plant,
Is now losing its beauty,
Losing its color
And losing its life

He didn’t care.
The plant is dying,
And he is at fault.

What has happened to that boy that cares?
What has happened to that seed he loved?
No more, forever lost in time.
Gone, forever it sleeps.

----------------------------------------

2007-12-13 22:23:55 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

i need this answer..... as a teenager who loves life.... and does funky stuff...

2007-12-13 20:14:00 · 4 answers · asked by diena 1

"The pleasurable sweetness of rhythmic sounds
Frees my soul from anchored ground."

2007-12-13 17:57:53 · 9 answers · asked by Sam 4

Silents and shadows fill's my mind.
the darkness of my life;
verses the torment of my brain
The light through the window shows dim against my skin.
The tingle down my spine proves this is'nt the first time.
My nerves tight
and, my body stiff
my mind wound tight with wander.

The gun held steady in my hand
as my finger gently stroked the trigger
when he slipped through the door.

I take one step out
raise my arm
find the trigger
and in one motion i pull.

His life gone.
The sound of the bullet soft against the night
as the silencer deafens its voice.

His mind obliterated;
his memory gone;
his whole lifes wanders shattered
as his body hit the floor.

No more love;
no more pain;
his heart broken as the metal pierced
his love was non-existant.

He was a ghost.
_______________________________________________
ok this poem is a lyrical poem so please if it does not rhyme it is going with a flow.

2007-12-13 15:13:47 · 4 answers · asked by Anonymous

3. Here’s a poem about a man’s encounter with a rooster in the woods The poem is written as if the rooster is addressing the poet as “Chieftan Iffucan of Azcan.”

Bantam in Pine-Woods
By Wallace Stevens

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!

Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.

Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.

You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,

Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.





3. Here’s a poem about a man’s encounter with a rooster in the woods The poem is written as if the rooster is addressing the poet as “Chieftan Iffucan of Azcan.”

Bantam in Pine-Woods
By Wallace Stevens

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!

Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.

Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.

You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,

Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.



Describe three effects that poet creates with sound. Suggest how they might relate to the meaning of the poem. Is there a distinctive tone or attitude here?

2007-12-13 15:13:07 · 3 answers · asked by Anonymous

Please stop the weeping

please stop the weeping!
i can hear it I can hear it! ! !
though it's muffled it echoes
i can't bear this
stop the mourning!
i cannot make you happy
I know...
I am lost myself
how can i make you feel better?
i am drowning quicker
how can i save you?
I love you...i am weakened
i lost the strength
I lost the will
I am tired
i am still...
I'm sorry...
I'm sorry....
Please stop the weeping
It's unbearable
I don't know what else to do....

2007-12-13 15:12:28 · 12 answers · asked by Anonymous

2007-12-13 14:24:48 · 5 answers · asked by brewergirl 3