Poetic Pieces

[Orchid]

I am sure there has to be others on the forum that play with poetry. So I thought I would share some of my stuff and perhaps others would care to share as well. No pressure of course, just didn't want people thinking they couldn't post on "mine"..lol
(it is for anyone and everyone and for those to just enjoy)

4/1/07

A sea of people surrounding me, and yet I feel like I drift this ocean alone. My thirst goes unquenched, my vision fails while waiting to feel again. Dim my dark to a resplendent white, only to bring the obscurity back. I understand not why the stake is driven deeper, only knowing how far it imprints. Perception of the darned, to drink the wine of your soul. Wrap your bark around me and embrace till the gelidity passes. Winter must move on and so bring the budding hope smelling sweet on the midnight breeze. That one warm caress, a thousand shards of pain. Memories linger near my window but dare not enter. Shatter the image to vindicate, a simple boon to grant one would think. I ask no more and no less than to feast on veracity. To be burned and marked with the breath of that death. I know this dance, I have taught the steps. Still I hate the melody.

I felt. I feel.

In that alone I recall why I no longer wished to. Bring me back my icy banter, my woeful charm. I will not grace this day with ardor, I will not grace it with abhorrence. Only with a weak smile that tells much with insipid eyes. Summer will come and than it will slumber. I will watch the autumn bring new clean death. I will watch from the window, wishing it to fracture my veiw. Hoping in time I will not remember what my eyes gazed when I awoke from this long quietus. What my soul felt, what my hand reached to trace. I found it to be naught but air and desirous thinking. I fell, and did not stop though arms reached for me. I heard but could not listen. For once, I wanted again.

*noticing there is an auto word change for I guess "bad" words...darned, was not what was there..but it is ok with me.

 

[tundrakatiebean]

[align=center]The Pattern of Love

The sun shining outside is fading as darkness falls
The movie is playing [/align]
As two awkward teenagers sit side by side

On the old stained couch

The sounds of a chair creaking and a mother

Sifting through boxes keep the two in their chains

Cologne and Vanilla clash, creating colors of youth.

Both minds dream of what is to come

Wandering through quick fantasies

To snap back to reality

With the parent’s dubious stares

They scoot closer together,

Hands held,

Arms twisted in the pattern of young love.

Deep inhalations bring in the scent of happiness.

Long blinks taking in each picture of each moment,

For soon to come it will be gone.

Tightening holds keeping everything dear close

Not to let it slip away into the depths of the unknown

Tongues lick trembling lips

Eyes, bright, bold and inviting

Eyes showing the deep wanting

Of that one kiss

A head resting against a shoulder

Taking in the soft skin and gentle touch,

The folds of cloth

Covered in the kindness oozing from both

Care spreads over an open playing board of actions

Cups brim over with emotions

Arms itch to be closer,

Bodies twitch with anticipation

A doorbell rings

And a boy leaves

A girl dreams

Eyes clouded over

Until they meet again

This one is long... It's was an assignment to explain how something came to be, we were given an object and told to make a story about it being used in a different way

The whisk sat on the floor, waiting for its child to pick it up again. All of the expensive toys and books to increase the child’s mentality were collecting dust in the corner. It wasn’t even made of anything important, the wooden handle was plain; the metal was not extraordinary in any way. Sam’s mother just didn’t understand. Why would her child (raised with the finest, most elegant things) want to play with this piece of junk? Of course it had been in the family for years, so she couldn’t throw it out, it had too many memories woven into the metal rungs. She would just have to put up with the ugly thing until Sam ended his obsession with it.

Just as his mother picked up the whisk to examine it Sam toddled in, sucking his thumb. In his yellow footy pajamas, made of the softest cotton that money could buy, he waddled up to his mother and stared up at her holding his toy.

“Gimme” he demanded with only a force a four-year-old could muster.

“Now dear, you know we say the magic word whenever” his mother started,

“I said gimme!”

“Sam! I will not be talked to like that!”

“It’s mine!”

“You will not get it back until you have apologized and asked for it properly,” she stated with the airiness of a cloud; she was not to be talked to as such, even if it was her own son. With that Sam plopped down and promptly started to cry. His Mother looked down stonily, he could cry all he wanted, but he would not get his stupid whisk back. She winced slightly as Sam wiped his nose on the arm of his pajamas.

“Now stop crying Sam,” Sam sniffed and tried to stop his flow of tears. “What do we say when we want something?”

Sam didn’t respond, he just looked down at his cloth-covered toes.

“You know what you’re supposed to say Sam,” She began; she did not, however, get to finish. Her gasp of surprise and disgust cut her off. She stared at little Sam running off with the whisk he had just snatched out of her hand.

Sam hurried off to his favorite closet, which was on the 5[suP]th[/suP] floor. He had his whisk, and that was all he needed. He had snatched the whisk like a dog snatched a steak off the kitchen counter. When he had gotten to the safety of the elevator he took in the beauty of his one and only toy. The wooden handle was cool in his palm and the remnants of the tag stickiness left gray on his small white palms. The wires that ran in a gentle curve from the wood made a soft jangling clank when he switched it from one miniature hand to the next.

The elevator came to a stop with a small ding as the shining door opened. He stepped off and trotted to the closet that held his little shoebox of things that he would keep as long as he lived. He saw the door and twisted the winking knob. Sam stepped into the darkness and pulled the flashlight from one of his mother’s fur coats. He shone the beam of orange light around until he found the black box. It was the perfect place to hide such a thing; nobody would find it unless they were looking for it. Plus barely anyone came to this closet.

He opened up the box and stared inside looking for the cover to protect his whisk. He found it and carefully tied the yarn to the loop at the top meant for hanging it on the kitchen wall. He then found the leash that he had used for his old puppy; He hooked up the whisk to it and proudly bounded out of the closet.

His mother was waiting for him. He knew his was in trouble, but he didn’t care. He had his whisk and that was all that mattered.

“What do you have to say for yourself young man?”

“Be nice to me or Rover will bite you!”

“Rover?” The usually emotionless face twisted into a frown of confusion. Sam pulled the leash so that his whisk came out into full view. His mother gave a sigh and said gently

“Sweetie, I know you love that whisk, but it is not a pet or a toy.” Sam looked up imploringly and announced

“Rover just doesn’t like you so he plays dead when you’re around!” His mother gasped, how could her own offspring say that something of theirs did not like her? How dare he!

“That’s it Samuel Anthony Smith III Go to your room and you will not come out till your father comes home and you will not have your whisk!” With that she grabbed the whisk from her son’s hand, gripped his wrist and dragged him off to his room.

Sam waited in his lavish room for an hour until a maid came and knocked on the door,

“Master Sam, your father’s home” Sam walked out of his room, head high and jaw set, eyes fixed in a stony stare. He entered the drawing room where his mother and father always had a drink after his father got home from work.

“Yes, Samuel my dear. He actually grabbed it from me and ran to the closet on the 5[suP]th[/suP] floor, you know the one with the red door and bronze handle.”

“Well, I do say Darling, That child has gone completely out of control!”

“I must agree, I think we should take away that whisk, he named it you know!”

“You can’t be serious, Penelope!”

“He did and I am, he named it Rover! Isn’t it outrageous?”

“I should say so! Ah, Sam my boy, come sit down will you?”

“I don’t want to”

“Well then you may stand, is it true what your mother says about you grabbing that whisk and running off to dress it?”

“It’s not just a whisk, it’s Rover and it’s my best friend!”

“Don’t be silly there son, Robert is your best friend, remember?” Said Penelope, completely outraged

“I don’t like Robert.”

“What, what? Just last week you said you liked his pony!” His Father stated in complete dismay

“That doesn’t mean I like him!” Both parents gasped at this pronouncement, how could Sam say such things? “I want Rover Back!”

“You may have your whisk back right after you apologize to your mother”

“NO!”

“What do you mean ‘no’”?

“I won’t”

“Then you shall not have that horrid whisk back, I will toss it out”

“I already have” Announced Penelope with a smug look on her face

“NOOOOO!!!” Sam wailed

“Good thinking there dear.”

“Thank you darling”

Sam was sent back to his room to think about what he did and was not allowed to have dessert any night of the week until he apologized. Sam didn’t care, his beloved whisk was gone, he would never love again. His heart was broken in two. How could his own mother have done such an awful thing? He had loved that whisk like it was his own child, and now it was gone, never to be seen again. No other whisk would do, he wanted Rover back now!

His mother knocked on his door and then walked in. Sam continued to sob into his feather pillow.

“Now, now dear, it was just a whisk! Plus your birthday is tomorrow, we’ll get you a new whisk.” Said his mother, trying to comfort him. Sam looked up through red eyes and tear-clumped eyelashes.

“I don’t want a different whisk, I want Rover!”

“But dear...”

“NO! You threw him out! I don’t want you here, go away you whisk killer!” With that he turned back to his pillow with renewed sobs as his mother left, giving a last pity-filled glance back at her only child.

The next day at Sam’s birthday party he was sitting in the corner sulking as he watched the other children play. When it was time for presents all the other children gathered around shoving their presents in Sam’s direction. His mother however stepped over the toddlers and handed her son a nicely wrapped present that said on the tag ‘To Sam, please forgive me” When he ripped open the package he squealed in delight! Lying in the box was Rover surrounded by an array of doll clothes made specifically for him. Sam leapt up and hugged his mother around the waist, repeating, “I forgive you I forgive you” into her stomach.

The other mothers looked at Penelope in dismay, when her son had let her go and ran back to open the rest of his presents they all asked her why she had given back the whisk that she had despised so. She responded, “I read the paper this morning and there was an article about when a child adopts an object that it helps develop their creativity. Lots of high paying jobs credit such things.”

 

[pamnock]

Excellent work guys.

Orchid - WOW!

Pam

 

[TinysMom]

I used to write poetry years ago - I have it somewhere.

The only thing I really remember is a line I wrote about our marriage way back then....let's just say it wasn't at a good point....

"We're two strangers locked together...playing games where grownups live"

(I got married at 18 and I was about 25 or 26 when I wrote it).

Thankfully, we've been married now for almost 29 years.....and our marriage no longer feels that way.... :biggrin2:

Peg

 

[trailsend]

Orchid, and Katie - really good! wow.

Peg - thanks for sharing. Time flies huh? That's amazing to me, what you wrote, what I can imagine you went through, and that you are still married! It's great :biggrin2:

 

[BlueCamasRabbitry]

I'll share some of my poetic pieces....I'll put a warning, they are sad. Most of my poems are about animals passing on, and I don't know why I write about it, it's just I feel so sorry for animals so I write about it to maybe help make the world a better place for them, so when people read my work, they'll go out and hug they're animal companions.


Here's my first one...it's about a horse and rider, the bond they shared and...:

The Bond Between Horse & Rider (all content is (C))

By: Emily R.

The special bond that only horse and rider can commit,

Is better than the taste of the cold, hard, metal bit.

The bond cannot be broken, even when the rider cries,

Because her horse is sure to comfort her, and dry her weeping eyes.

The bond forever shines within the horse and rider's lives,

But when that everlasting friendship is split between the two,

All the lovely memories remain behind,

Except a nasty few.

All the nickering and whinnying for treats is sadly over,

But the horse's head still rests upon the lonely rider's shoulder.

The saddle and bridle still sit in place,

Collecting all the settling dust,

But all the rider cares about is the long gone sound of hooves clomping the ground at a rack or fast pace.

The halter whispers in the wind,

The horse's name incrusted gravely on it's side.

And all those days of the rider leading, horse at her left side,

Come flashing back to her,

And then they whisp away like that last cold winter ride.

<End> This poem was an assignment for class, and I actually think I am going to extend it quite excessivly to make it much better.

Here is another really great poem I wrote. Please don't take the horse's name, I made it up myself, and I am eventually going to use it for my horses. OK here goes...oh and this one isn't sad, it's happy, lol,:


The Preakness Winner (all content is (C))

By: Emily R.

The starting race trumpet blares,

The crowd refocuses and begins to stare.

Thousands of pairs of eyes are focused on the dirt brown track,

As Supreme Dream's Dillonger races ahead from the back.

Its down the homestretch and the first turn,

Foggy breath comes from the horses as their insides churn.

The jockey's begin to crak their whips,

The cold crispy air dries the horse's moist lips.

The second turn isn't far, and Dillonger gains speed, going as fast as a racecar!

The backstretch next, then the last two turns to home.

Beyond in the distance, a horse wanders free roam,

But Dillonger's jockey urges him on.

Behind them, a rookie crashes over the rail, onto the lawn.

Paramedics rush to help him out,

But the race continues without a doubt.

One more turn, the homestretch draws near,

Dillonger's owner's shake off their fears.

The pounding of hooves, the rushing of blood,

These horses run crazy, like people in a flood.

SNAP! The picture's shot. THe winner's announced!

Dillonger's jockey rides to the winner's circle beaming with pride,

Where both horse and rider claim their prize!

<End> That one is ok, it's full of energy and excitement, but slacks in the end.

If you want more, just holler. Plus, I'll post more tomorrow, but now I'm gonna go watch Step Up! lol.

Emily

 

[BlueCamasRabbitry]

Orchid, I don't know those big words you have in there but WOW! I love that poem! That is outstanding! I love the line "I know this dance, I have taught the steps. Still I hate the melody." SO good!

Katie, your poem and story (?) are both so good!

Emily

 

[BlueCamasRabbitry]

Ok, you're all lucky, hehe. I couldn't resist posting the best poem I have ever written (yes it may sound like a similar poem, but it's original!). Another warning, this is the saddest poem I think I've ever written, if you have cried when you read the poem Rainbow Bridge or The Miracle of Life, then you will probably cry/bawl when you read this. And yes, I know, the numbers in the poem are messed up, sorry for that! It starts at 12, loses four then you have 8, then it goes to 6, just pretend the other two are, well, you know.....

Once again, I write these poems so people can love their pets even more; so go hug your pet after you're done reading this! Whether it's a dog, a cat, your fishes' tank, or you beloved bunny, give them a huge hug for humanity and me

Heaven's Eye (Content is (C))
By: Emily R.

A chance to live, a death to fight,

They struggled hard all through the night.

Twelve at first, now four are gone,

And so the rest still ponder on.

Tracking blood all through the snow,

Another gone, death's almost all they know.

But still they fight,

Because their lives deserve another right.

But she can't move on, her death's too quick,

And all of them go to her to lick.

Six are left, the road's too long,

Before they know it, another's gone.

A life of pain, a life of strife,

And now God sadly ends his life.

Five are left, they continue on.

Too weak to move, too quick too die,

But Heaven's angels pull her into the painfree sky.

Four are left, not quite strong, but

slowly, surely, they walk on.

They turn their backs, another gone,

Now three are left, and they mourn as they move on.

God takes another two, the last one stands a sullen who.

Too weak to move, Too quick to die,

The dog's last breath takes him to Heaven's Eye.

<End> So This poem was written just out of my head, but it's sort of like a poem called The Frozen Tear, but yet it's different, as well.

Hope you enjoyed, and like I said, if you want more, just let me know. I have about 30 or more poems, haikus, and stuff. I'd be more than happy to share

Emily

 

[BlueCamasRabbitry]

Okay, last one I promise. This is an actuall bunny poem! And, yes it's sad. I wrote it about what happens at easter pretty much. Anyway, here goes:

I Shut my Eyes Forever (All content is (C))

By: Emily R.

I was just a lonely bunny rabbit, sitting in my cage.

No-one ever came to me, no-one ever played.

And so days and nights, weeks and months, went so quickly bye...

I sat there in my cage, with no tears left to cry.

And then one day, you came along,

You saw nothing wrong.

But inside, I was so lonely,

But still you left me there.

Another day, another week went bye,

I always let out the same old sorrow sigh.

You came to me on one spring day

To say good-bye, and not to play (PAUSE: below is extremely sad...)

So you stuck me in a box

This isn't what I ought to thought.

A careful hand lift me to a table

I'd never forget this ever!

And so a needle stuck in my pelt,

And I shut my eyes forever.

<end.> Yes I know there is no part saying the bunny was taken to the vet, but she/he was. I hope you liked it, even though it was sad, but it's true.

Emily

 

[Orchid]

I am glad to see your works here and I think they are wonderful. Thank you to everyone who has shared. I know it is not always easy for they are pieces of who we are and the possible dislike of them can be scary. I know it is for me at least, so a big pat on the back to all of you!

I myself am not very fond of a lot of what I write. I feel only now and again I have something I like or think is good. One has always stayed with me. It is the first one I can recall writing. I believe I was 12 at the time. It lingers now only in my memory, not on puter or paper...well until now I suppose.

My heart dwells in darkness,
for my memories of you are fading.
Like fall so colorful and vivid,
turning into winter.
So cold and forgotten.


Most of what I have and do write is extremely depressing. I don't tend to write when I am in a good mood. So most of it I do not think would be fit for posting. I do not want anyone getting bummed over my stuff, and not all of it is PG.
I will look through what I have and try to find something else suitable for the board.

I hope everyone keeps posting and keeps it going! Sharing art in all shapes is a great thing!

 

[Orchid]

Aerie
For so long I have been the wounded eagle that tries to remain a flight.
I have felt the sting of your hated bullets piercing my wings.
I have fallen to the earth shrieking in fear.
But I have stood, and waited while time mended what was broken, torn.
I have raised my head to the wind and smelled the scent of freedom.
I have been tormented with longing.
I have raged at the injustice of being unable to do what is in my nature.
But I have dared to climb to the sky again.
I may still feel the weakness of my wings, but they hold me yet.
I may not be able to fly as far as once I could, but I know I will again.
and I will watch the world from my aerie as it slowly dissolves.
Knowing that I will survive even through the death, through the greed that steals.
I watch alone for now, but not always will it be so.

 

[Orchid]

I wrote this after my daughter went through another killing crush of hearing her father say again...he was not moving back to NC.


When it's all your fears, When it's all the pain, When it's all your tears, I see we are the same. This killing crush, The whisper of won't, This silent hush, The deadly don't Once mine are now your screams, Echoes in the dark, Thief of all your dreams, Sputtering out the youthful spark. Take away my fear, your fear, Take away your pain, my pain, Take away my tears, your tears, But I can't, because it's the same. Inside I scream, but so do you, It's all too easy to see, All we want is something true, To believe again that more can be. I want to ease the fears, I want to take away the tears, I want no more pain, Please don't make your life the same.

 

[Aina]

This is a poem I wrote a while ago. Everything doesn't all go together beautifully, because diferent parts were written at diferent times. It is more ranting then actual poetry at times, lol.

The Battle of Pointless Lies

So focused on the score
You forget to play the game
Losing your soul
In you attempt to find a name
You pat me on the back
To find place for a knife
Smiling on the outside
But inside there is strife

A deadly dance of politics
A ballet of lethal knives
A game of pointing fingers
It is the battle of pointless lies

You say do unto others
Before they do unto you
Find the most dirt on them
Not caring what is true
How many lives are sacrificed?
Is only your conscience spared?
Is standing on your principles
Too much to bare?

Wake up and see the world
Stop leaving bodies as you go
It is yourself you are fighting
Not I who is your foe



Another one of my more depressing ones. I do write happy stuff sometimes, I just can't find any right now.

The Tide Always Returns

You are the sea
You are the ocean
That laps at the stone of my soul
Tearing away pieces
Until I am no longer whole
The castle of hopes
So long built on your sand
Is smashed to pieces
With a wave of your hand
You promised to take me places on your waters
But then you sweep over me and drowned out what really matters
I thought you could fulfill my thirst
I drank deeply of you
But instead you only made is worse
Now something is tugging at you
Pulling you away from me
You left and now I am free
I build more castles of hope
My soul strengthens again
And I prepare my boat
You said you would never be back
But the tide always returns