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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/15/2005 8:29:32 AM | nothinheavy....woot woot...Congratulations ..youre the 100th poster! Im not sure what youve won....but Ill get back to you:)Ohhh wait...I know...A Cherry cheescake.. once a week for a year!   Enjoy! I could totally relate to the poem you contributed.Its interesting what some like to label as "friendship" at times and how were better off without their definition of it in our lives...Thanks so much for stoppin in and helping me celebrate the 100th post:)You rock!  Kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/15/2005 10:54:15 AM | Yaaaayyyyy, cheeeeesecake! And, yes definitely much better off now, and feelin fine.  You rock too oohpie. 
Thanks dolly. | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/15/2005 11:10:20 PM |  Elvisgoth...That pic reminds me of the finnesse shampoo commercials"Those fingers in your hair"lol " Nothinheavy...Im glad you like the cheesecake idea...Mind if i have a bite?have a great day yall and thanks for stoppin in.I look forward to seeing more from everyone:)Hugs all around,Kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/15/2005 11:39:40 PM | Yep right after we have Layla....
she will have my eyes and your nose ...how purdy  | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/15/2005 11:40:52 PM | write a poem on her
and where's the cheesecake and that was a good write kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 12:21:42 AM | There was this little girl named Layla
Her eyes brighter than stars
her smile like her mommy Lisa
she loved taking rides in cars
she was as pretty as her daddy
and as naughty as her mommy | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 3:54:27 AM | Okay one more sad one and I will try for happy 
You should know better
Why don’t you?
Do you always need to be shown?
There are those that are worthy
Born to be loved
You were never born to be that
I try to show you over and over
You seem mute to it
How can you not see it for what it is?
You are not worthy and it’s not your place
You are the stepping stone
The gap between sad and happy
I am tired of showing you
You need to stop
When will you learn and understand
Be what you were born to
Second best if that
Find peace in your station
Find peace stepping stone | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 8:02:09 AM | | dolly pops...... awesome!Loved it! Carribean and my onlline wifey,Portugese mommie...No baby making in my thread Can I be the God Mother for Layla since yall figured it all out in here..Oh and if you guys adopt elvis goth...Ill be his too if you want I love you guys...Mwah!Kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 12:00:46 PM |
Nothinheavy...Im glad you like the cheesecake idea...Mind if i have a bite?
Help yourself. Feel free to nibble on anything I have, anytime. 
The Explorer
The warm inlet whispers a sweet welcome to the passing explorer.
There, he lingers, gently probing its silken shores,
gazing at the stars above, splashing in the river's mouth.
Within him, growing excitement and anticipation for the journey South.
Strolling to the cliff's edge, he gazes at the beauty that lies beyond.
Carefully, he lowers himself towards that, to which he's drawn.
The explorer meanders along the graceful and delicate bridge below,
soaking in all its charm, continuing towards his ultimate goal.
On the other side, so much to explore, the adventure escalates.
He travels west, along a narrow trail, his final destination must wait.
Not wanting to miss a thing, he takes everything in, like a feast.
He makes his way back, then does the same along a trail heading east.
After this, the explorer heads, south into a glorious mountain scene,
He traverses each one up to its peak, then travels the valley between.
He roams wildly across the plain below, investigating the entire space,
Then he comes, face to face, to his favorite treasured place.
But, the explorer chooses, to extend his, growing anticipation,
He passes on by, ever so close, to that treasured destination.
He continues along, slow as can be, adding a leg to his trip,
When he returns, he adds one more, before exploring that final strip.
At the entrance to the treasure trove, he still doesn't advance.
He takes his time, waiting for a sign, circling a local protuberance,
A shake, a shiver, a quake, a quiver, the sign he was waiting for,
The explorer is ready, takes a deep breath, and enters the place he adores.
Ummmm, that one's about...ummm...hiking...yeah, that's it...hiking.
Peace  | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 2:16:11 PM | LOL Your generosity is much appreciated Nothinheavy:)
Your poem was very...lets just say....are you sure you were um....talking ...about hiking?I got the feeling and I mean feeling ROFL it may have been something else..In any case excellent write..I could really feel your words...Ok Im leaving  Have a great night:)all,Kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 2:32:54 PM | Not Forever Again
I can't believe you just said that
I'll take today right now and rejoice
trust me forever isn't all that
no not forever again
if you insist then walk on by
I've learned forever isn't all that long
so I'll take today and smile
no not forever again
you just don't know what you say
forever means until you grow tired
then you'll go your separate way
no not forever again
although you probably mean well
I only want this moment in time
as for tomorrow who can tell
no not forever again
I will not bank on the morrow
I'll take the present's laughter and joy
you can have forever's sorrow | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 2:35:29 PM | I had a dream last night and dreams are visits to me
By truth and ever elusive clarity
A pilgrim I on a quest into the land of reason
Tired and weary ever betrayed by the treason
Of this world
Seeking my origin lover of my soul was the center of my quest
I happened upon a queer old man whose words test
All worldy thoughts and mores
Why seek what you have he implored mockingly
A waste of shoe leather your trip surely is
Standing his azure eyes penetrated my soul
and all breath was stolen from me and talked
As in riddles that only sages
Such as he have pondered for ages
To be finitely infinite is troublesome at best
To feel time wind down, to need to rest
Wears creation to submission and
Betrayal in the end
To be selfishly compassionate introduces confusion
Good acts for others merely an illusion
For the world is always watching and creation
Loves it's limelight for whatever reason
And mortal immortality puts blinders on so
That we are ruined by building security
No fortress can stand against His lessons and plan
Not for very long at least.
He sent me along home with comfort and peace
Stating that we all we seek lies within
Its apparency betrays its location and it won't be
Hidden by hobbies and vocation.
n his final words with a smile he added with gravity
There are those who seek their own with truth, ignore them
And their depravity, for they mean well, but miss the mark
And remain enlightened in the dark. | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 2:36:57 PM | When scorned by one who pledged eternally true
just love....
Lick your wounds, cry your tears but just love...
When confronted by hate remember tis fear
and just love..
stand firm and just love....
It is hard to do, but worth it so
and less hard on your frail frame.
Hate consumes and love spreads, just love.
Thank your creator for making tough cheeks
so to present to those that fear
just love. | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/16/2005 2:46:49 PM | Me on my high horse
you on yours
no wonder all me manage
to start is war
I want this
and you want that
we can speak so well
in listening we fall flat
I want you to be...
you want the old me...
we've both lost sight
of ourselves in reality
What if I focus on me being
and you focus on you being
perhaps then we can alter
this presently perceived reality? | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/17/2005 2:24:14 AM | Never Feel Alone Again
As sure as the rocks are met by both life's calm or stormy seas,
Here I stand fast for you as a reminder of His eternal presence,
A place to cling to in times of peril,
A source of a shelter in times of needed rest,
To offer you guidance when you are at a loss for direction,
But mostly to act as his proof that no matter where, how, or who you are,
That you are truly never alone.
When strife tears at you like a lion devouring its prey,
He binds your wounds gently with the soothing words of his promise,
A gentle reminder of his loving touch,
A kind reflection in a world of distorted windows,
To give you peace in times of turmoil and hatred,
But mostly to help you walk quietly and safely, from where you came, to where you stand, to where he wants you to go.
For you go it not by yourself.
When sleep evades you like a hand grasping to clench the morning fog rolling in from the sea,
He gives you lasting comfort that pacifies even the most tormented soul,
A taste of what your future brings,
A continuous gift that you can both keep and give away freely,
To help bring light to those traveling through a darkened passage,
But mostly to ensure that if you remember to look for that light, to live and give in the light, and to grow in the light,
The light will never go out.
It is in total darkness that we feel and act, that we are alone. | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?Thanks guys^^^^^
Posted: 9/17/2005 10:04:54 AM | | Grey Matters and sly rick...I loved your writes and the messages conveyed in them.Its funny but every now and then people post poems or messages that I really need to read on a particular day.Thank you so much.Your poems were appreciated in ways I cant even quite explain. You are both beyond talented...seriously...Now go get those writes published :)Awesome job,Kat | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?Thanks guys^^^^^
Posted: 9/17/2005 2:43:30 PM | Why do we rip apart
the very ones we've pledge our heart
to, when they decide its time to go
and see beyond the horizon?
And in that bitter sweet moment of depart
our heart grows stony and cold toward the one
whom seconds ago made us live and love crazy and bold.
we wail and cry they just don't love us
and never did, and everything was a lie,
never seeing the irony in our actions of wanting to hold
down love and not let the beloved fly.
Perhaps just maybe, all we say about lost love
and the person who did us wrong is mere confession
of our own lacks and shortfalls, areas we need to grow.
For love is love, it just is, and never wants or
seeks its own. When a lover departs, picks up and flights,
rejoice in the time shared, not mourn what has gone. | |
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| So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 9/17/2005 7:32:14 PM | I wanna be a poet
I wanna write what's wrong
I wanna be a poet
I wanna sing a song
I wanna - wanna - more
I wanna be a poet
just so I can write and adore
But most of all
I wanna be a poet
so I can be rich in words
and not down and out in being poor
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