Anyone want to post their poems for others enjoyment?

[Josie]

A Poem for Children



MR WIND’S LITTLE GAMES


By Josie Whitehead


Did you hear Mr Wind as he shook the wind chimes?
When he rattled the door, and blew the pub signs?
Did you hear him scream as he chased over hills?
And he laughed as he blew over the gold daffodils.

He tussled with hedges and then rustled the trees
He twirled the windmills and danced over seas.
He whirled and he twirled in a magical dance .
But to see Mr Wind there’s no possible chance.

The poor little clouds all ran hither and thither,
And even Mum’s washing got all in a dither.
His wild working fingers have tousled your hair,
He played teasing games without even a care.

He’s tangled the sheets, and mangled the wheat –
And the rubbish he’s blown all over the street.
He’s whipped round the corner, blown over a bin –
And if you saw Mr Wind, he’d be wearing a grin.

He’s cheeky and sneaky, he’s loud and he’s proud.
He’s watching the world from high up in the clouds.
Our earth would be strange if he just went away.
How we’d miss Mr Wind and the strange games he plays.







Copyright 2007




I'm looking for some feedback from people with children. Did they like my last poem: "The Fish That Ate Granny's Teeth?" Do they like this poem? If so, why? (Also, if not, why?)

[gummoluv]

Hibernate

The eastern wind blows,
pressing the sky against the edges
of our lives.
pushing clouds through slivered light,
easing their way through wooden panes,
painting the walls with the fading blues and
rose colors of our windows
and drifting sunsets, that seem to linger
with the familiarity of dreamset eyelids
and soft hues,
shades that seem to speak with
the warmth of the air and
casual skin, left
hibernating beneath the sheets,
as we breathe cooler words
back into the world.

Fresh Ink

Fingering his forearm of scabbing
turquoise swirls of scientific curiosity.
Wrists laddering dark lanes of fresh ink
leading bursts of adolescent planets
and infant stars scaling ideologies.

Dragging the eye to outlined
planets, burned in amber.
Cosmic swirls of
Life settled and crept from ignited
purple blasts embedded in his skin
sparking images of godly altitude.


Honeymoon in the 1994 Astro-Van

As the ground welcomes the sky
clouds licking the dew
off the mountain tops
winding, worn roads breaking
flowing through their intimacy
Capturing shutters full
of what only the eye can describe
and the conversation trails
with blinking phrases and
paced awe traced
with the blue lines of our road map
and the thrift store souvenirs rolling
in the empty bed behind us

Gleason Hill

Carrying the smell of summer in your skin,
Metal sparked and inhaled
through poetic hands,
that speak of renewed commitments
and shaken memories,
that lose more edge each stroll, each drifting harvest.

nostalgia, carried through burdened roots of mountain trails
spiderwebed behind ten years of a work-in-progress-getaway,
linking men beyond blood and Milwaukee Blue Ice.
Their bones echoing the creaks of these vintage walls,
slowing their pace from city advances.

And as the dogs stray, embracing neighboring love,
we circled the fire
passing Kessler to the right and listening
to the trees and creeks
filter and sway to a timeless beat,
branding our legacies on this small patch of earth,
claiming home.

[Linda]

My sister is ten and i made her read your poem about the grandmother that looses her teeth. she liked it, she even laughed, but she had no idea what bemused meant. I don't know if thats due to a hole in her elementary education or because you're using a vocabulary too advanced for children. just wanted to give you a heads up =]

[dixiespurgirl]

How do you hold a man when his heart is split in two
How do you hold a man whose heart doesn't speak true
You hold him with your thoughts, your breath, your truth
You hold him with your tears, your anguish, your proof
That another isn't meant for him, but another he will find
For she holds him not with her heart
but with the power of her thighs
You hold him with your heartbeats, slower they come at night
You hold him with your memory, which fades to dark from bright
You hold him with your mind that fades from color into black
You hold him with your senses that tell you he's never coming back
And you learn to slowly release the hold
To clench tightly to your heart
And you learn to apply the hold
To the place that needed it from the start
You hold your heart and protect it from the shadows in the night
You hold your heart and tell your children that tomorrow will be bright
For you've learned the lesson you didn't want to know
For you've learned the lesson filled with grief and sorrow
You can never hold another nor his heart with true belief
You can never be promised love in the quiet moments of grief
You can only hold your own heart and though it sounds quite grim
You can only hold your own heart and hand it over to others like him
So you learn to search eyes and hearts, to ask what life is to hold
If you ever trust another to have your heart...if you ever become so bold

[Syrcco44]

Nice poem, dixiespurgirl. The pace is very lulling and rhymthic - like the waves of an ocean.

Here's one of mine:

The Sock and the Vine
(A Parody to the Raven)

Once upon a midnight doze,
I was awakened by a stench that alarmed my nose.
As the smell advanced to reek,
I heard random commotion and then an uttered shriek.
“Hello?” I asked. “Who is it that seems to speak?”
Nevertheless the annoyance did not cease,

And, alas! the wretched freak continued to disturb my sleep!
Determined upon ending the agitation, and my frustration,
I commenced through my chamber only to meet a reeking sock and a potted floral.
“Hear, hear you mortal beast what is this sudden quarrel?”
“The vexatious vine tried to eat me!” the little sock spoke.
“It was not me” stated the vine. “I am not the one to joke!”

Was I dreaming in my sleep? Or did those things just speak?
The sock spoke, “I plead, I plead, O Great Stinky Feet!
Must thou let me be consumed by this sneak?!”
Am I crazy? Was I mad? Or did this sock just appear meek?
I glanced at the vine, and then at the sock.
And then I woke up, still in a shock.

[KaeMartyndale]

I just wrote this one today.

Fake

You are
A beautiful rose
A decade past bloom

White synthetic fur jacket
Platinum blonde hair
With grey roots

The glossy cover of
A fashion magazine
With frayed edges

The sickly sweet smell
Of cigarettes
And perfume

Fake
Is all you seem to know
How to create

[Spoons]

^^ I really like that poem.

Ive just read through all these pages and there are some amazing poems here. Linda i love yours!!

[KaeMartyndale]

^^ I really like that poem.

Thank you

[hotrod marlin]

Without a Trace

It is dark and lonely out here
The water so still so clear
My mind is drifting
I am drifting away
Every little ripple makes a sound
Every splash can be heard for miles
Many a soul been in this place
So easy to vanish without a trace
So deep and dark and cold and lonely
The horizon out there overcomes me
A gull soars by as I realize what I’ve done

[parul]

hey m a new writer n still too young to understand all the emotions of life but still whatever i have seen till now i have tried to pen it down into my lines................sorry if u find it a bit childish

MY WORDS FOR FREEDOM

The malencholy of time, the weep of moments
The cry of hours and the scream of minutes
All of them are whispering to me
That i wanna be free...............
The stale air, weather not so fair
The water in the pound and the trees all around
All of them are requesting to me
Please!i wanna be free.............
The thoughts in the mind,words of every kind
wisdom of the heart,emotions all apart
all of them are screaming to me
Oh yes! i wanna be free..............
Those small twinkling eyes,the dreams which could never fly
The efforts of small flowers,the drops of rain showers
all of them are begging to me
For god's sake i wanna be free..............
BUT..........
Oh malencholy of time and the stale air .....
Thoughts of the mind and sweet twinkling eyes........
How can i make efforts for your freedom.......?
How can i make you feel free.............?
As freedom you need is actually my own need!!!!!!!!!!!!

[emidio125]

hi ive done a few poems on myspace i like this one the best




Blinded by Love



Teenage Mum's isnt it a downpour

Bush and Blair couldnt find what they were looking for

The walls of the Vatican still the longest- running farce

I want to marry you, so nothing else matters



The Dictator's in the hot chair

claiming his right to rule

Yet all the people with the remote do

Is watch a popstar playing the fool



But I want to marry you so nothing else matters xx

Great one.

[Eriny Youssef]

We can give constructive critiscism, and just flat out enjoy your pain, sexiness, pensiveness, wonder, aimlessness, activism, or whatever it is you are expressing today. I'd like to read, so I"m sure others would as well. Don't be shy now.

This is a very good idea for a thread. Thank you for bringing it up

[Melexa]

Excerpt from a poem I wrote "The Fullness of a Vacuum":

Who can fathom the loss of a father
A father as sweet as laughter
He who wears the shoes
Knows where it pinches...
Vacuum like a turbulent tide
Vacuum as bitter as bile
Vacuum as bright as darkness
Vacuum in its fullness.