Poetry

To finish my bookreport I need a poem about death... Dont ask me why it just something I need.. Soooo if u would please help me and find some-make sure to tell me who it by.

2007-09-03 04:51:44 · 6 answers · asked by Anonymous

Contact

My fingers are the contact beteen you and me;
Caressing your fingers through the mysterious web
Of silicon circuits, electronic nerve fibers,
Beckoning to me through a vast won'drous universe.
Your fingers, caressing mine, as they press out my passion
Onto small white keys, playing the melody of contact
Stroking your conscious thought from my desire to yours.
Heaven in the middle, God surrounding;

A concourse of angels, silent sentinels, stand observing
Approving? Not disparaging: my motives are pure.
Seeking understanding and encouragement
From a simple smile which slides through fingers trembling,
Asking nothing but awareness, reaching out through the darkness,
Touching your fingers, bringing the joy immmeasurable,
Wrapping around my soul, and you smile
And I smile.

2007-09-03 04:48:03 · 9 answers · asked by Gma Joan 4

Development of Dramatic Monologue in the 20th century American Poetry .

2007-09-03 01:41:37 · 4 answers · asked by pps 1

Poetry used to rhyme. If it didn't rhyme it was called Prose.

2007-09-02 23:34:07 · 21 answers · asked by Lifesabitch 3

You were all i needed in life,
i gave up everything just to be with you.
Your just too good to be true,
thank you for being there when i needed you,
all i just wanna say is for now is i love you.

2007-09-02 21:45:12 · 6 answers · asked by Anonymous

How I Love You

Peacefully the morning started
each lover in the other's arms lay
she reveled at the rise and fall of his chest
and how he made her hips swirl and sway
he savored her warm legs entangled in his
and the soft moans of remembrance
across her lips

Suddenly a flash in her dream
in which he rambled lines upon lines
of thigh trembling deeds, of knee buckling scenes
her whole body was about to give over to it
only to find the words were not for her to squirm over it

2007-09-02 20:29:40 · 5 answers · asked by hny_rstd 3

light shines down and gleams from your eyes,
the way you smile makes me laugh,
it's sad how happy you once made me and now i cry, because it hurts knowing you don't feel the same inside.

and

the way your arms comfort me is amazing,
your voice just drives me insane,
around you i act so shy,
but inside i go crazy

2007-09-02 19:06:11 · 9 answers · asked by Anonymous

Hi gang,
I wrote this a few years ago for my Mam. I was reminded of it recently in correspondence with a friend whose love for 'his' Mam was plain to see.
My mother was ill and I came to her bedside. She slept so peacefully, like an angel. Inspiration hit and when I woke her with some tea, an hour later, I gave this poem to her. She cried. I cried. We hugged for an eternity. It was and is one of the most beautiful moments in my life...

Angel’s Child

Sleep a while sweet angel
You have earned your rest
The time has long since passed
When I was carried at your breast
Your work is all but done now
No mother more could do
So now's the time for you to rest
For I can carry you.
Although I am a man now
I still don’t know what I will be
But whenever I'm unsure
It’s your love that steadies me
For no matter what my life demands
One thing I have always sworn;
I will succeed, simply because
Of an angel I was born.


Still gets me, that one...

(tanx for the memory RB)

2007-09-02 18:20:25 · 5 answers · asked by Irish D.... 4

2007-09-02 17:00:28 · 11 answers · asked by S0oFreSSh 1

Envisioning thoughts,
Hopes and dreams,
It is all so easy,
Or so it seems.
Hundreds of ideas,
And on the lists goes
But as we go on
The list narrows.

the theme is mission... does the beginning sound ok?? for a 13 year old?? how can i improve on it..this is just the first bit

2007-09-02 16:47:44 · 11 answers · asked by I'm insane 3

I don't have a title yet.



It gave us unexplainable knowledge,
The tinnniest of fruit that bore all burden,
But no more,
Now we must hold it, carry it,
With patience and care,
Ignorance is bliss,
And so blissful we are not,
The mightiest of creatures,
Yet we have decieved ourselves,
Thoughts fill our heads, questions,
The knowledge that was gainned is lost with time,
And time is lost with fear,
Fear that we're wrong,
Fear that we're right,
Fear that it's over,
Fear that it's just begun.

2007-09-02 16:31:23 · 9 answers · asked by Anonymous

One petal…The others have fallen…
hidden within a stone…
yearns for the day the missing will sprout…
Rain pores…
Soaked, cold, & forgotten...
Clouds spread, it’s days feel dead..
Slowly a small shine appears from the south..
it is but just a crack of warm light..
it could hardly see it beneath the dark stone…
Knowing what’s across the small crack..
Dreaming of the day it was once surrounded near the other peddles.
One peddle…Would give anything to feel the life of that day just once more before it shrivels up & dies..
Feels nothing but the weight of the stone, nothing more…
One petal, Shrivels bit by bit, till there is nothing left but tiny pieces of of it left...
One petal...Till this day lays beneath that cold stone…that never moves…Even with the gust of strong winds, it still does not nudge...not even an inch…
Kept in the dark...
for what feels like an eternity...

2007-09-02 14:51:34 · 10 answers · asked by Anonymous

This is the result of some ideas I've been kicking around--highly personal ones, but not sure if they fully work yet. This is a very early draft. I want to thank ObscureB and Margot for some invaluable pre-posting comments. Any feedback is appreciated. Thank you.

Premature

The Birthing was like bloating
from that extra slice of cheesecake.
Nothing expansive:
the rack of lamb, red potatoes

of normal mothers with smiles,
not pained closed zippers.
It was like a gallstone,
a boring sting with no reward,

to be forgotten
not spoken above whispers.
It was astonishing
that this tinyredwrinkled thing could

breathe its wet wheezes.
No bigger than one of those asthmatic handbag
dogs, silent judges
and mocking,

pretty, pale blue bows.
There would be no cigars, handshakes,
glad slaps on shoulders.
The room filled with embarrassed grins,

vague apologies,
like sitting constipated
in a public bathroom stall
listening for each quick rattle,

each agitated
successive
Bang!
As patrons come and go.

It lingered afterwards
like a bad meal in a greasy spoon.
You paid, and paid, and paid,
too sickened to eat, too guilty to leave

the Styrofoam box behind--
The damning evidence
of leftovers
unwanted, undigested.

2007-09-02 14:45:14 · 12 answers · asked by Todd 7

Pendulum weighs
pro's and con's of today
Strange how precisely
it indicates
Alone in the still
foretelling your will
With your eyes follow
the point to a thrill
Opening doors
that had contents unknown
Shedding new light
in that dark of your own
Suddenly sweet movement
flows through your soul
A quiet awakening
people should know
Ask all the questions,
call death by chance
And ancestry shadows
(along with you) dance.....

2007-09-02 13:01:06 · 4 answers · asked by ? 3

2007-09-02 11:10:58 · 14 answers · asked by Anonymous

A Poem (?) for....

Spring has came
And winter's went,
It was not did by acci-dent.
Up from the south as you have saw,
The birds has flew by nature's law.
Flowers has sprang with sweetest scent...
Thank God spring's came and winter's went.

2007-09-02 10:26:08 · 7 answers · asked by DeborahDel 6

I saw you the other day
It had been so long
Once filled with inspiration and grace
It was clear you had fell on your face
Your dreams have become nightmares
The world you live in is your own personal hell
The rafters that hang over you have begun to give way
Like the sunset on a clear autumn day
You wonder will there be a tomorrow?
Or will today be the day
You’ve protected the ones who own you
You have ridiculed the ones who care
Sitting in that office you often wonder
“Who’s crazier you or the patients?”
They seem so carefree, while you are consumed.
I asked why it has come to this.
You paused for a moment before answering “I thought it was best”
You say the right things but you fail the test
You wonder why he left so long ago
Now you care for a kid that burdens your soul
You began to cry. Tears streamed down your cheek
Like rain on a window pane
I asked why you cry. It seems like you have brought this on yourself.
You looked at me, shocked I was not sympathetic
I said sympathy is for the feeble
You are just naïve
You thought there was good in everyone
This is where you were wrong.
What’s it like when reality slaps you in the face?
When you have spat on everyone who cared
Now you want help
Now you inquire for my opinion
I believe my opinions counts for very little but if you must
You were a could have been, a should have been however;
Unfortunately you are and will always be a
Never Was.

2007-09-02 09:07:56 · 3 answers · asked by 24fan 4

This is a poem i wrote called my last breath..

The air around is cold and hard to take in
The woods are dead silent
Something does not seem right
Only one knows I am about to take
My last breath

The peaceful quiet is disrupted
By footsteps behind me
Another sound comes
And I realize it is me
Running from my last breath

Hands come around my throat
And I know that I
Cannot do anything but pray
And I silently prepare
For my last breath

The words of the stranger
Chill my bones
He says that I
Should not waste
My last breath

I slip into blackness
And know
He was right
I should not waste
My last breath

When I open my eyes
I look at my chest
And see a knife in it
And I wonder when I will draw
My last breath

Hours pass or was it a minute
When I see a distant figure
He sees me too but runs away
In fear of the time of his
Last breath

My senses tell me that
My killer is not finished
With me just yet
He shall be the one to witness
My last brea

2007-09-02 06:59:57 · 6 answers · asked by Anonymous

2007-09-02 04:21:20 · 5 answers · asked by ~~*Skadi*~~ 2

Could you guys give me tips on this poem that I have written?
Like word choice, form, length, description, and stuff like that?
Thanks.

The city that never sleeps,
The city of lights,
In complete darkness.
The goosebumps still return,
Remembering that night,
In complete darkness.

2007-09-02 04:00:01 · 4 answers · asked by :o) Sunshine 3

Just sitting here
Smoke away the day
Night is my company

They judge and they stare
They smile but they mock
Never were real
Always faking it

They come and go
like the clouds in the sky
ever changing
always morphing
hiding their true colours
behind a mask of deceit

Why I never trust
Why I never open up
Why I never cry to you
Why I never ask for help

I know what you're really worth
I know your deepest thoughts
I see through your lies
I've heard enough

Just me and my cigarette
And the four walls around me
Just me and the star lights
Just me and my thoughts

They're my only comfort
And the heavens, too
Jesus, Mary and Joesph
please watch over me

Angels cry, angels die
world not forsaken

not forsaken...

2007-09-02 03:57:16 · 6 answers · asked by Ms Ghost 6

i also believe that the poem was written by a black poet because the man in the poem wilson lee is also black.

2007-09-02 03:48:28 · 3 answers · asked by janebatson 1

My Life's Calling
by Deborah Digges


My life's calling, setting fires.
Here in a hearth so huge
I can stand inside and shove
the wood around with my
bare hands while church bells
deal the hours down through
the chimney. No more
woodcutter, creel for the fire
or architect, the five staves
pitched like rifles over stone.
But to be mistro-elemental.
The flute of clay playing
my breath that riles the flames,
the fire risen to such dreaming
sung once from landlords' attics.
Sung once the broken lyres,
seasoned and green.
Even the few things I might save,
my mother's letters,
locks of my children's hair
here handed over like the keys
to a foreclosure, my robes
remanded, and furniture
dragged out into the yard,
my bedsheets hoisted up the pine,
whereby the house sets sail.
And I am standing on a cliff
above the sea, a paper light,
a lantern. No longer mine
to count the wrecks.
Who rode the ships in ringing,
marrying rock the waters
storm to break the door,
looked through the fire, beheld
a clearing there. This is what
you are. What you've come to.

2007-09-02 03:07:06 · 3 answers · asked by Anonymous

because at the moment im writng an essay which is proving to me that i dont like poetry all that much! What can you recomend?

2007-09-02 02:01:43 · 19 answers · asked by kitty 3

I wrote this for s freind to give to a guy who totaly screwed her over just like everybody -especaily me- said he would.He teased her heart with the idea of a ralationship but ditched her for one of my other friends.


A HEART CARVED OUT OF EMPTY WORDS
A funny feeling you gave me
in your eyes, I thought I saw the same thing
but it was just the reflection of the knife
slit open my heart to feel more alive
kill me so gently with your kind lies
make me a fool in your eyes
betray the rose for the thorn
leave my soul broken and torn
mistaken love for a blade
leave my heart for dead, bleeding like pain
the question never was do I love you
say it, my response:"I love you too"
empty words that cut so deep
for you, who knew my heart and soul would bleed?




She didn't give the poem to him because she said it sounded nothing like her.That's because she sucks at writing poetry.But I still love her.

2007-09-01 23:06:49 · 12 answers · asked by Anonymous

you never listen
you don't even care
what we feel inside
always unknown to you

it's always about you
never about us
now we feel used
taken for granted

hurt,
you betrayed us
and now
revenge is what we seek

regret
is what you will feel
after you have a taste
of your own medicine

and now let us see
who will have the last laugh
we will see
who will rise in victory.


what do you think.?

2007-09-01 22:49:37 · 7 answers · asked by Anonymous

i mean i have to make a project based on this....so if anyone can help me out with this....just even if anyone has a vague idea it will be helpful .

2007-09-01 21:26:51 · 3 answers · asked by Anonymous

I love to analyze poems and stories and such. It's one of my favorite hobbies, and an "amazing talent" of mine according to my friends. I'm in a horriblely depressed mood and analyzing poems would help me be happy again. I know I sound kinda wierd, but then again who is not unique in some way? If you have a poem or story I can analyze. Please do send it to me in the answer. Thank you(:

2007-09-01 20:03:09 · 5 answers · asked by Acting and Dancing 1

Every night i sits next to the window looking at the sky hopping there would be a star for me to make a wish that you would know how much sadness i feel when your not right beside me.

2007-09-01 19:52:28 · 8 answers · asked by Anonymous

I was rushing off my subway and I looked up and the last few lines struck me but I can't adequately paraphrase them - they were about men needing truth I believe.

2007-09-01 18:56:05 · 1 answers · asked by Jim G 1