|
|
|
|
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/17/2006 10:25:42 PM | In the labyrinth of the passing years
we reach for the stars, it appears;
as we reach for the crystal dream,
life is caring us down stream.
Sometimes heavy or wrong word
may destroy our whole world.
As we follow up our dreams
we hear our laghter and screams.
As we live up to the dreams
we allow ourselves to extremes.
We want to be on the free
and live our dreams as we see. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/17/2006 10:34:24 PM | I am having fun with my tax return
I know that the tax money for war will be gone
as nothing about the taxes is to be afraid
I have never my taxes prepaid
I cheat some legally as we all do,
what's so difficult about it, I ask you
I am just try to report all cash
as don't want to be behind a mesh
Just think about it, as it was
you gave away most what's earned just because
Or in some countries people have to pay bribes
Yet, almost everybody here survives.
Pay all taxes and report some gain
the money will be spend in no vain
Mr. Bush will know what to do
Ok, Baby, I think, I have to pay, too.
Even if I claim myself no gain
it's not in the vain, again
At least I get a good credit score
What esle to say any more?
Then, you I can get cash or a credit line
and pay the taxes again, it's divine
the economy is gonna be very good
uncle Sam ain't gonna be very rude.
Does it matter, what do I do
and how do you my profile view?
Does it matter what color I am
if I write just to write spam?
Does it matter if mister Bush
wants again his agenda push?
Does it matter if the very last whale
will be chopped for his huge tail?
Nothing matter to me no more
as I don't want any more to score
all I wanna is to be able to rhyme
what's bad about it? Is it a crime? | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/18/2006 7:35:02 PM | | thx again bmad for visitin my little piece of heaven here on POF | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/18/2006 8:00:22 PM | Days and days of nothing but rain
With out a glimpse of the sun,
Dont know how much more there will be,
The rain just needs to be done.
Flooding is a big issue,
With so much rain that fell,
Causing roads to get covered with water,
And rivers really began to swell.
Hopefully the rain will stop soon,
And the clouds will part,
So the sun can dry things up. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/20/2006 12:01:25 PM | Hello, Angel
Hot and humid and Ac is broke. I beg for the rain. Grass is dead. 93 and no AC. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/20/2006 7:30:56 PM | | ya could come here, it finally dried out and it's only 60 degrees | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/20/2006 8:03:41 PM | 5410
Other Stuff
20 May 2006
That other stuff always kills
steals us from tomorrow
Broken glass, spilt water
that bowl of cereal from last night
When was mourning
perhaps it never came
Captured and caught
entangled in rapture
What would take care of another
never time to be alone
Yet in loneliness to shatter
other stuff always to stand and wave
Breakfast at midnight, supper at noon
Where was tomorrow
that would be yesterday soon
Stuff is a group of items, matter or events (the tangible substance that goes into the
makeup of a physical object; “wheat is the stuff they use to make bread”) To stuff up
(“to make a mistake”), to have stuff [or other stuff] to do (“items or matters to take care
of , attend to, or resolve”).
Miscellaneous unspecified objects; (“the trunk was full of stuff”) Clothing (informal terms for
personal possessions). Stuff and nonsense, (senseless talk; “don’t give me that stuff”).
Unspecified qualities (“the stuff of heroes”; “having the right stuff”) Information in some form
or another; (“there's good stuff in that book”). An important or characteristic component;
(“suspense is the very stuff of narrative”)
As a verb to thrust, shove, squeeze (press or force; “Stuff money into an envelope”;
“She thrust the letter into his hand”) Choke up, block (obstruct; “My nose is all stuffed up”;
“Her arteries are blocked”). Overindulge, binge, pig out, (overeat or eat immodestly; make a
pig of oneself; “She stuffed herself at the dinner table”; “The children binged on ice-cream”)
Fill tightly with a material substance; (“stuff a pillow with feathers”; “The old lady wants to
have her dead poodle stuffed by the taxidermist”) Or in cooking (fill with a stuffing;
“Have you stuffed the turkey yet?”) and get stuffed (a slang term)
© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/20/2006 11:23:29 PM | hey Angel,
How are you? Here is something new I wrote. I hope you don't mind if I place it here.
I have read some of my writes from the past and found occassionally that they have lost the "Spell" that surrounded me when I was inspired to write them in the first place. Some of the lines do not mean to me what they did when I wrote them. I realize that the inspiration I had that caused me to write the work, has left; for that person is no longer inspiring me. So the energy is no longer there or has been replaced by a new muse. This next work was written simply because of some kind words given to me. It is amazing what your day can change into when someone does something nice for you without any coaxing or even knowing them. The scope of life is loving your neighbor as yourself.
thanks for everything,
---Robert
Spellbound.(a new muse)
Lost in a daze from over-saturated hints of love’s ultimate bliss.
Finding words to bring forth conscious behavior, then gone amiss.
Searching through creations of love from filtered, ruthless souls.
Finding only fragments of reality within their tormented roles.
Words stated prior, lost meaning from the dissipation of the spell.
Looking at history gives remark to loves lost, ending not so well.
The feeling of passion lost to untold rendevous's escaping in wrath.
Having lost the magic after selfish ways destroyed "all" in it’s path.
With each new attention giving new inspiration rising from the dust.
The motivation surges forward, to gain control, making love a must!
So much to learn having spent only moments in a lifetime searching,
for a truth that has yet to present itself in anyone left about lurking.
Abrupt ideas brought forth, because of simple compliments given
have gallant conditions well portrayed from learned ways of living.
SO much can happen with a mere spark of faith in which love shines,
that all other powers pale in comparison to that of any "loving kind".
A gift given in appreciation of words well spoken to others left behind.
The hint of phoenix's rising from the dust, gives me reason to unwind.
I give back to this kind, inspiring mind more words of gratifying hope.
I love “YOU” that dares to care enough to show and tell life’s scope.
---Robert M Pike Copyright © 2006  | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/21/2006 2:46:52 AM | Morefun...
That last post was awesome...i have a mental block at the moment but this gave me the inspiration i needed to finish my poem..thank you  | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/22/2006 2:26:34 AM | carina, thanks for the kind words! I am always glad to read your posts! I will be anxious to read whatever you were working on, if you care to post it here. Your work is very honest and true! you are quite welcome! 
---Robert  | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/26/2006 4:11:41 AM | Thank you morefun xxx
Somewhere over a rainbow there is a golden soul
A golden soul that will make my heart soar
And my soul dance
The rainbow begins at my heart
The rainbow ends at my soulmates heart
Where is the end of the rainbow
Everyday I search for the golden soul
The road is long and hard
There are many detours off the road
As each day...month...year passes
It gets harder and harder to find the right road again
My eyes are on the rainbow my body is stuck on a detour
I search inside myself to find strength
The strength to follow my eyes to the rainbow
For at the end of the rainbow is my golden soul
Once I find my golden soul
My heart will soar and my soul will dance
For an eternity of happiness is what I search for
The golden soul that is at the end of the rainbow | |
|
| |
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/29/2006 3:07:57 PM | Carina,
Again, thank you for your inner beauty shining so bright!
---Robert
Angel,
I have not seen you for a while. I hope all is well!
While thinking of inner shining beauty, in which we all search for one that
has a loving soul, to lay beside in passion and in the other wonderful joys of life, here is
another struggle about our paths we choose to take during life's journey.
I wrote a work in 1999, that was a great influence on this next one. Although, really this has more influence by those that have interacted with me in the last ten years. The work of 1999 is stuck on a crashed laptop hard drive that I have not recovered yet. I read a work by another Pof'r(Carina) that influenced me to finish this newer version, that has a more encompassing theme. It is like the writing itself has a debate of the struggle of good and evil, optimism and pessimism, fading from the former to the later, still struggling to make the best choices.
---Robert
Fading to Black (re-edited)
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would melt, with simple gifts of love.
These words I write come to me like a gentle breeze on a warm spring day.
I see vanity dominating the unwitting plain folks that drink their lives away.
I have seen phony smiles and corrupted files made by greed-ridden thieves.
I’ve heard some calling my name, finding they say things I cannot believe.
They give nothing in return, nothing to learn, but a lesson about mistakes.
I’m searching for those souls that look for kindness and a genuine beauty,
the kind that has little to do with vanity and more to do with one’s sanity.
I was once an optimist, believing that all things are possible, even true love.
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would CHERISH simple gifts of love.
I’m an optimistic skeptic, learning to be specific about all life’s possibilities.
Now, the light becomes brighter, like the sun as the clouds clear away from it.
The clarity is pure and sharp like the senses become in a moment of passion,
just before the point of no return, when there is no chance of holding it back.
This higher sense of awareness would stay with me until I am traumatized,
or an intensely emotional event would occur to sequester it, later reverting,
when this clarity would return, bringing again a perspective more endearing.
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would BEAM, with simple gifts of love.
These words I write come to me like a gentle breeze on a warm spring day.
They softened the harshness of the heat, leaving traces of their beautiful smiles,
with knowing eyes, that give pieces of their heart; I hope to show them honor.
There is a deep black hole far below the typical paths of our quotidian lives.
We travel these paths, making choices that affect anyone we interact with.
The paths are winding and narrow with many forks, all have varying worth.
It’s easy to go forth, but taking the wrong fork can send us deep into the earth.
Once we have chosen some paths, it’s not likely to be able to return back.
It is along these paths we must go to reach the most wonderful of conclusions.
These paths lead us to an ultimate bliss far away from any kind of seclusion.
These paths have every temptation along the way, that might cause us to fall.
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would GLOW, with simple gifts of love.
Many will fall from these paths, landing deep within the chasms far below,
clinging to the edges that narrow as the paths go deeper into the obscure,
with some choices thrusting us farther into the unknown depths of our terror.
If we fall into the depths of this abyss, we could be falling for an eternity.
I have traveled these paths, straying far from the safety of the written words.
I see greed dominating the unwitting plain folks that think their lives away.
I have seen phony smiles and corrupted files made by pornographic thieves.
I’ve heard some, accusing me falsely, finding they say things I cannot believe.
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would GLEAM with simple gifts of love.
I’ve seen greedy war mongers taking from the world, killing people’s loves.
What a man does to conquer, to take from the world, will not make him nobler.
I’m walking this path too close to the edge, stumbling, one misstep and I’ll fall,
tasting these temptations, pondering the moments, and the mysteries of it all!
I see eyes that are bright, souls that would SHINE, with simple gifts of love!
---Robert M Pike Copyright © 2006  | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/30/2006 10:43:26 AM | Robert...
You flatter me i think...if i could write half as good as you i would be more than satisfied.
Your amazing and i love your writings...thank you.
Carina x | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/30/2006 8:19:12 PM | | morefun and carina, i'm glad you both came to visit here, sry to say that I do not have anything to post here. I haven't been able to write anything lately, my head is 'cabbaged' lol. I am sure that I will write sometin soon or as soon as i'm inspired again. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/30/2006 11:24:51 PM | Carina,
Be flattered! Without having to think about it. You do write as well as anyone I have read on this site. I see some that are too wordy and others that write meaningless dribble. It is what is spoken or written from the heart, that has truth and passion, along with a bit of organization and style, that makes good writing. I see that in your posts as well as a few others, but not many. Some are as uninteresting as listening to white noise at the end of vhs video when the movie is over. LOL I love the fact that you love my writing! It is for people that appreciate what I do as to why I keep doing it. I would like to meet someone someday locally that will want to write with me on a few projects. I always appreciate those that speak out and say nice things to people. It is these nice things spoken or written that bring about love and peace to all parts of the world. Keep writing for you will only get better the more you apply this gift. I wish I was half as outgoing as you. I would be much more than satisfied. LOL
---Robert
Angel,
I am glad to see that you are well. I hope to see your posts again too. They are of a loving spirit which is what this world needs more of all the time.
---Robert | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/31/2006 10:45:48 AM | Thank you Morefun x You are so sweet xx
These are todays thoughts - not the best i have written but helps get it off my chest :)
Mixed up emotions swirl in my mind
Loving, gentle and caring
But he's the dangerous kind...
I’m always attracted to the wrong one for me
But I make the choices
So how can it be?
That once more I’m hurting
Over things that’s been said
Memories come flooding
Causing turmoil in my head
Alarm bells are rings
As jealousy reins
My stomach is churning
And my heart – it pains
As once more I am faced
With a real jealous man
A man I know loves me
As much as he can
But this man doesn’t trust me
Of this I am sure
So once more I’m faced
With relationship sour.
I look to myself, is it my fault again?
But who the fault lies with
To me it’s quite plain
So should I ignore it, let time take it toll
Or once more take steps
Down a very dark hole ?
Perhaps i CAN change him
And make him aware,
That i am his lady and i really do care
Perhaps i CAN'T change him
Am i flattered maybe ?
I know i can't lose him
As sad and lonley i'd be.. :(
Carina x | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/31/2006 11:13:24 AM | Take this kiss upon the brow,
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow,
Your are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream
Yet if hope has flown away,
In a night or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Carina x | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/31/2006 3:53:59 PM | 5440
Because She missed Me
31 May 2006
When a day was alive
with you in soul
Just to know thought was care
that day you missed me
And I had her to thank
Where was contrast
as to tense, past, present in all
Without her, yet in knowing
she was all of admiration to kind
That day she missed him
and he knew she was pure
Another moment
honest in all
Two steps
around six feet tall
His shoulder her own to rest
across a world, a universe united
that day her eyes were shining so bright
“I know that thou canst do every thing,
and that no thought can be withholden from thee.”
Job 42: 2 KJV
© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/31/2006 5:37:21 PM | The old man told me of Mary Magadelene,
A lady who was lost and on the brink of never being found,
The special man found her, and spoke the Word of God to her,
The Angels of Heaven rejoiced, she was lost no more.
Like many before me who have found faith,
In utter reverence, respect and her honour,
I am compelled to kneel, to bow my head before Him,
And I give praise to the Lord. | |
|
bobby7
|
Joined: 3/22/2006
Msg: 1096 | |
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 5/31/2006 8:51:06 PM | A Visit To The Halls
05/01/03
Last night, sleep eluded me, and I stared at four bare walls.
So I let my mind take me away to visit Haggard's Halls.
I knew the paths that I must take, our friend, Paul, showed us the way.
And I knew the risks of going there, and so I knelt to pray.
I prayed the Lord to let me live, and to bring to you this tale.
Then I stood before the great Hall's doors, the moon was cold and pale.
Inside, I heard such cries of pain, and shrieks from untold maimed.
And, from within, I heard a voice that was calling out my name.
The smell of blood and butchery was heavy on the air.
Dare I take the chance, and go inside, knowing well how I might fare?
The Hall's doors slowly opened wide and I peered into the haze.
Then the keeper of this torture pit chanced to fall within my gaze.
No mortal man; So tall, so pale, with eyes as black as sin.
He howled with glee, and beckoned me; "Well, Robert. Please step in".
Inside I saw the cold, dank walls, adorned with hooks and chains.
And heard the cries of endless souls enduring endless pains.
Rats and spiders everywhere, and bloodstains on the stones.
And in every room within these Halls, were piles of human bones.
The cries and moans that filled the air, from victims not yet dead.
Froze my mind, and filled my heart and soul with awful dread.
I wished to run; I couldn't move, I was held by evil's power.
And I knew that I would forfeit life, and be damned within the hour.
Then, suddenly; I was awake, and shivering in my bed.
The cries of all those tortured souls still ringing in my head.
But; This was no dream; For I was there, inside those hateful Halls.
And I can tell you, stone by stone, the contours of the walls.
Now I lie here, and shake with fear: There's good reason for my fright.
The dreadful things I witnessed there, have turned my dark hair white!
So, stay away, and save your souls, I warn you, one and all.
I played the fool, and now I pay. Lord, I wish I'd heeded Paul.
So let Haggard's Halls, and our friend Paul, those gruesome secrets keep.
But; Woe is me, I'm oh, so tired;
Yet.. too.. afraid.. to.. sleep. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 6/1/2006 2:05:24 AM | A POF Experience.
One normal day,
Each being the same
I answered your message
And in my life you came
A truly good friend
Who I can’t do without
Who cheers me and supports me
Shows me elements of doubt
Whose opinion I value
Who I can trust with my soul
Who never would hurt me
Helps me reach my goal
But my goal is distant
And doubtful and grim
But still you encourage
To never give in
I am blessed I have you
In such a small way
As my friend and mentor
Around everyday
You never pass judgment
When I reach for the sky
I care for you more and more
As each day goes by.
Thank you Raymond. | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 6/1/2006 10:30:45 AM | Life in a Daze.
I am traveling through a maze not unlike the deep wilderness.
I’m witnessing many people wandering about in bewilderment,
fighting like barbarians, coveting their mates, lusting like dogs,
stealing like tax-men from Rome, hoarding everything like hogs,
fighting for the scraps, taking more than what they all needed,
nothing left for you to carry out your life, to have to complete it.
There are jealous guys mistreating so many beautiful wives,
ruining their love, not letting them live, binding them with ties,
Not allowing them to move freely about the earth to enjoy life.
They fret about people they’re talking to, causing undue strife.
Love is allowing everyone to experience their lives, still freely.
Those that limit their loves, who needs them, “They’re so needy!”
Jealousy is not a form of flattery, it’s leads to assault and battery.
A step closer to violence, this aphoristic intolerance, a smattering
leads them to insecurity that’s closer to a more complete obscurity.
It is better to stop it now before life ends... someone call security!
If life has you second guessing yourself, feeling on edge in a daze,
find someone that leaves you feeling that you are more amazed.
Life is too short to waste it with someone that could be dangerous.
I don’t want to be with anyone that has to cope with such angriness.
—Robert M Pike Copyright © 2006  | |
|
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 6/1/2006 10:39:27 AM | Morefun
Life is too short to waste it with someone that could be dangerous.
I don’t want to be with anyone that has to cope with such angriness.
Thank you x | |
|
bobby7
|
Joined: 3/22/2006
Msg: 1100 | |
| Poetry Collection
Posted: 6/4/2006 9:16:41 AM | This poem was inspired by Johnny Cash's song 'Five Feet High And Rising"
An Island
My world is wet, the river's up, and more rain's on the way
It seemed that I might need a boat to get to town today.
There's water all around the house; it's drowning our new seeds.
A little sun and dryness is what our county needs.
It's risin' o'er the railroad tracks; the cows took to the hills.
The chickens flew into the trees, or, are roosting in the mills.
It's too deep to run the tractor and to salvage all our hay.
And on the radio, I heard, we're gonna get more rain today.
I'm looking out the window; there's water everywhere.
The folks in town have called to say they've lodging's we can share.
But, we don't want to leave our home, where our children were all born.
Abandoning the farm would make the future so forlorn.
The creek has overrun the fields, devouring good top-soil.
As I watch the devastation, my blood begins to boil.
We've worked so hard to make this place our little paradise.
I'll pray tonight: A little sun, and blue skies, would be nice.
A boat went by, just filled with folks that are headed into town.
A cat is floating by the house. I hope that it won't drown.
My boy just plucked it from the water; it's safe inside with him.
Lightning' hit the power lines, and our lights are getting dim.
The young ones just don't understand what's happening to our place.
The looks of consternation show plainly on each face.
They just can't comprehend the flood, and the havoc all around.
They wonder why they see their friends all heading into town.
Well, it might be time to pull the plug, and head to town, I guess.
I wonder just what we can save, or salvage from this mess.
Mother Nature can be cruel, and toy with rain and sun.
They say, "No man's an island". But, our farm will soon be one.
But, we might wait to see if we can hang on one more day.
It's hard to leave and watch our hopes and dreams just float away.
I'm gonna get down on my knees and try our safety net,
For forty years, through joy and tears,
The Lord ain't failed me yet... | |
|
|
| Page 44 of 51
|
11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51 |
|
Home
login 
