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 starangel_820104
Joined: 12/15/2005
Msg: 826
So ya wanna be a poet?Page 34 of 42    (2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 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)
Inside your soul and inside your mind
I find a man lost in time
Not sure where
And not sure I should dare
Im not suppose to know
All the feelings you choose not to show
Locked tightly within this wall
I press forward, but begin to stall
Wondering if I belong at all
In your life and in your mind
Im where your lost so deep in time
But is it fair, and should we dare
Beginning to wonder if there should have been a "heart handler's" ~Beware~
Im not worried, nor am I afraid
Somewhere in this time our heart's love have made
The walls are broken, gone astray
Waiting for these hearts to build a way
Funny as I see
Our hearts have found a strange way to be
Close and near
Gone away, are all our fears
For you have I
And I, you too
Funny how this all started with a simple "Im bored, how bout you"
So inside your soul, no more can you hide
Because Im there right by your side
I see your thoughts
I hear your dreams
Just as if it was a gently flowing stream
Does this scare you?
Or do you feel you are in my soul too?
No matter the answer I know its true
Because you have been burning in my soul from the moment I met you~
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 827
Jaded
Posted: 2/20/2006 10:44:15 AM
Is it pain or independence then
thats calling out to me
the voice of freedom of the soul
or of things that just wont be?
Do I cast away the hope of love
in error to be free?
What riddle comes to tease my soul
In things that should not be?
Id rather melt within your arms
and slowly fade away
awakened by your tender charms
to who Im not today,
than walk a little lighter
having thrown the chance away;
Making light of inner fight
to try and ease the day.
If in time the time does come
when all is all but lost
then on that day I'll gladly pay
each part of the cost,
Come what may all I will say
is that my heart will not be lost.
So pain or independence, hurt or revelry
come to me in course of time
in time we will just see.
 poetwhocares
Joined: 5/1/2005
Msg: 828
The Day it was Day
Posted: 2/21/2006 2:11:42 AM
2999
The Day it was Day

22 August 2003


There was no light
at the end of the tunnel
Until the void was
to come through

There was no tomorrow
until out of the dark came day
Yet in the beginning was described
as a start towards the end

This genesis of activity
settled in segments of six
An endeavour of creation
alined to a name in God

Build in a rock in foundation of
managing a reality appearing not in control
For where there was no light
the sun did not shine

But could in all the Universe
be one blue planet out of
an infinite galactic wave


“IN the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the
earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face
of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the
waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And
God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from
the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he
called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.”
Genesis 1: 1-5 KJV


© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)

a poet who cares
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 829
I exam
Posted: 2/23/2006 4:41:12 PM
I looked and thought I saw.
thinking I could see I looked;
when my eyes beheld what was not there
my mind concieved it and thought.
and I looked thinking I could see...
and while I thought I saw, I thought I heard;
and in not listening, I thought I understood,
thinking I could hear and see.
So, blindly, I misunderstood what was not said
and did what was not done
and in so doing undid me.
And now, again, I think I see.
 kblgal
Joined: 7/29/2005
Msg: 830
view profile
History
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/23/2006 4:51:23 PM
I always have so much to say.
I think way too much.
But when it comes to this, my brain freezes in terror.
And not like when you eat ice cream too fast.
It’s like when you are thinking superficially about an issue,
And when you get to the first sign of depth,
Your synapses just stop firing.
You don’t want to face it.
Facing it means you have to deal with it.
You would rather keep it high on a shelf,
Pretend that everything is okay.

I can’t think about it because I have never let the reality of the situation penetrate.
It was unconscious, really.
But now I can’t avoid it anymore.
Now I finally realize what I have been shoving in the back of my mind for years.
Now my avoidance is conscious.
Now I realize I have a choice.
Now I realize I can run away and hide,
Or choose to accept reality, allowing a chance to change it.
… But what if you just can’t change it?

Do you ever believe that you don’t think about certain things because they seem to be of little importance to you?
What if that’s not the case?
What if you don’t think about those things because they are too important to you?
So important, that you are too scared to face them,
Because you know you can’t change them?
What’s the point of letting reality surface then?
Maybe it’s just better left collecting dust.
 Mattdizzle23
Joined: 2/12/2006
Msg: 831
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/24/2006 1:00:04 AM
This is my first post, So be nice!

Another day passes, One more day that your gone away
Get up for work, considering the day
Thinking of you, getting ready, working for that weeks pay
You left me breathing out of tune
Hoped we would see each other holding each other, exchanging vows
On a beautifull day in June
Cant believe its been so long, since you were in my arms
The tears are slow to dry, I feel like my insides are torn
Because every moment is a reminder of you
Walk along the beach, We used to come here too

Why did it end this way
Was it my own shortcomings which ruined our days
Did it make you break inside
To know I had myself to find
Remember the days we used to have
Because We grew apart with the times we had
I know it must be hard to fathom it now
That were so far apart living our own lives now


The apartment empty, the memorys of you still here
But its for the best, Ill dry my tears.

 dashance
Joined: 11/18/2005
Msg: 832
view profile
History
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/24/2006 3:55:12 PM
That's beautiful mate! Sounds like a real fresh scar too! we're totally anonamous here, so feel free to keep contributing!
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 833
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/24/2006 9:48:40 PM
Acid dreams your quiet screams have ripped my soul apart
vision clear of love so dear and how it did depart
weeping I with tear in eye to hear of song so sad
better then the things I send in memory that I had
brother in the anguish that we share in love gone wrong
rest assured that in their time our hearts will yet be strong.
Until the day that its that way, have a drink with me!
And toast the day that we can say, "At last a soul set free!"

 lady-picture-show
Joined: 1/4/2006
Msg: 834
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/24/2006 10:51:53 PM
Center Stage

Music
Lights
Center Stage
6-inch heels and fear
A sea of two-way mirrors
Cheap perfume
Beer
Object d' art?
Object d' trash?
Mystery or Mess?
They're not looking in your eyes once you drop that dress.
Beautiful-Shameful
Seductive-Destructive..
Naked body
Naked soul-
Graceful disaster
Fallen
Ballerina on a pole.
 poetwhocares
Joined: 5/1/2005
Msg: 835
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/24/2006 11:08:08 PM
a great poem if I say so myself ^^^ the naked truth - beautiful as to the previous page

1015
My Legacy

26 August 2000


Another moment to express
helped by loneliness if not stress
In living a life perhaps not planned
yet one certainly maned

On this flight of fancy
at this time without Nancy
She just a suitable name in use
to give this psalm an excuse

So much put down to marking time
then turned over to rhyme
A pastime some would criticise
while this is more an exercise

Plainly just mucking around
while still above ground
To leave this legacy
with works set free


© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)

a poet who cares

 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 836
No more tears
Posted: 2/24/2006 11:51:28 PM
Grind my soul to pieces;
rip apart my heart
let the onslaught happen,
dont delay its start.
I did the very best I could;
so curse my soul to hell!
Release the bloody judgement seat
my story then to tell.
bring your best and beat me,
whip me in your rage
violated, ripped apart,
I'll break out of your cage
the mighty hulk you made of me
but secrets I do own
love the path to peace again
and so the victory shown
hate me in your madness
in that I will not dwell
I've had all of my sadness
I'll skip the trip to hell.
 Mattdizzle23
Joined: 2/12/2006
Msg: 837
No more tears
Posted: 2/25/2006 12:19:26 AM
Poetry, the self expression of ones emotion, put into words, beauty beyond..


Dwelling in the confines of my padded Cell
Insanity lingers
My own blistering hell
I hear the voice calling from beyond
Beckoning me closer
Trying to ignore it, trying to be strong
It tells me of my restless fate
To move beyond
I cant even Contimplate
My Destiney of creating sentence from word
By my own designation
Writing a scene beyond verb
The voice is louder then it was before
I cannot breath
Shivers down my spine chilling me to the core
To break from my own self made restraint
To become one in my own
Would seal my fate.
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 838
The Keep
Posted: 2/25/2006 8:27:29 AM
Parging up the castle walls
the prisoner in his keep
dreaming of a shallow life
while surviving waters deep
to frolick in the fields again
among flowers that it shows
to stop and smell the roses then
as to the end life goes
but mortar, trowel, filling holes
its what my heart has done
not yet understanding it
how can it be undone?
 Thorb
Joined: 7/15/2005
Msg: 839
Ladies on the Edge
Posted: 2/25/2006 10:15:18 PM
she wandered off into a thought
not always available to be bought
a slip of the tongue
a little fun
twenty for your pleasure
swallowed evidence
a smoke then off to another job of leisure

in the city
available pity
time and nothing to do

hangin loose till sunrise
callin' for juice from sad eyes
table talk lies between smooth satin thighs
added lubrication for quick good-byes
my my the only cry was a whimpering sigh

its sexy fun to hold one
watch the gun explode
know its gonna reload
a smile, a pat, a kiss
a tip of the hat
you miss the love and that is that
you love the miss and that is that

in the city
readily available pity
three dollars per minute can keep us alive
a beauty you don't know/jump jive and blow
forgotten pride inside pleasure to provide
you too can help a kid survive
so you're destroying another mother sister or brother
we just don't know when we go down or when we'll go down
all around the ground looks the same in the dark
some do it for a lark
some bark and howl like dogs
some just lay like logs
some jog on-bye
some just lie

ancient obsession depression high
exploitation depends on why
squirming squeels with a sigh
thank you very much good-bye


["Reflection on the Second day after Toronto's sights" by Thorb]

some editing Dec5/97 , dec22/03
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 840
Ladies on the Edge
Posted: 2/26/2006 7:11:15 AM
My wife could spot a hooker
a hundred yards away
and point and yap and criticize
in hurtful things she'd say.
I'd look to try and find the one
that she had criticized;
but I could never see them there
the view escaped my eyes.
Morals are for people
who like to throw their stones
while forgetting about their targets
who do their troubles own.
lawyers, soldiers, hookers, tramps
addicts on the ground
policemen, politicians,
all to their struggles bound.
Who's to say whats right or wrong
as on this way we go?
All I know is it wont be long
before I wound my head
if ever I should toss a stone
at something someone said.
Drink it in and think of it,
the strange things that I read
and know that on my way Im bound
and there is no end to need.
Wisdom in the choosing, if ever choose I do
know Im not confused at all in my choice of you.
Feed me in compassion, as hunger hits us all
and know that I will answer when your voice does call.
 Thorb
Joined: 7/15/2005
Msg: 841
morning
Posted: 2/26/2006 9:13:21 PM
all that dreaming
oh what can you do
all the fantasies
all the blues
waiting and hoping for
one who's not there
wondering if anyone will care
you stare at the wall
the window
the screen
it seems shallow,
hollow,
you want to scream.
Could it all be a dream
just add yellow and green
whites for pastels
you don't have to tell
do what you like
no one to stop you now
yea whatever anyhow
then I'll wake up
put coffee in a cup
make toast and jam
think about Pam
and crap
my mind snaps
my heart drops
my feet get cold again
so I pick up a pen
and then
when I least expect it
I have to take a shIt
will the irony ever quit
it eases my mind a bit
as I take another sip
then try not to slip
on the rug that catches the drips
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 842
Of life and work and pleasures
Posted: 2/27/2006 10:12:13 AM
Spinning little spider, fastening the silk
cows off in the pasture, not time for giving milk.
Birds aloft in sky above seeking other things
or sitting there in nest somewhere
with hatchlings where it sings
Sleeping dogs of summer never cease to growl
when the mailman brings his work with monday morning scowl
pepper spray protection stuffed inside his vest
a smiling face at front door tells him of his rest.
the dogs that may be growling, the birds lost in their flight
the wolves that may be howling are in their place aright.
Passage is the terror while in the tunnel then
but rest assured that when endured the light will shine again.
Keep on in the darkness on the track you find
settle your direction, and ease your weary mind
to everything a season, and all things in their time
tunnels dark and lonely lead to other places fine.
The error in their travel that some may choose to make
is to stand and stare at tunnel walls, and their journey never take.
One foot then the other, and let the tyrant cry
embrace the noise and walk your way, you'll watch the horror die.
And if in walking you should err and fall upon the ground,
you're hardly ever lost to care when good friends can be found.
 Black Mary
Joined: 1/22/2006
Msg: 843
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/27/2006 10:14:25 AM
The poem "My Legacy" by poet-rather like that one.
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 844
So ya wanna be a poet?
Posted: 2/27/2006 11:15:15 AM
I agree, and would add that the legacy is not merely contained in verse left behind, but in the dominos that fall from their reading. Inspiring.

 poetwhocares
Joined: 5/1/2005
Msg: 845
the legacy
Posted: 2/27/2006 9:32:20 PM
Of those who made a comment on my words entitled "My Legacy" . The poem, or so called poem, is a classic case of forced rhyme and stupid verse. More of a joke, than to be taken seriously. When I could add, the works or psalm as I refer to my own form of writing, was a token contribution - a reason to write - maybe in way of catering to an unseen quota, or more the need to put some words down upon a naked page.

Plainly just mucking around
while still above ground
To leave this legacy
with works set free



5132
I Hate Poems

28 February 2006


I hate poems
I hate the ones
that start the same
I hate all those poems
of one word to name

This act of repeating
one word several at a time
I hate those kind of poems
even if this was not a crime

I hate poems
I hate each line
I hate those poems
the ones that waste my time

This reign of repeat
that sensation lost in accord
I hate poems - since in life
hate was a word to ill afford


“No man can serve two masters: for either
he will hate one, and love the other; or else
he will hold to the one, and despise the other.
Ye cannot serve God and mammon. [Worldliness]”
Matthew 6: 24 KJV
[word in brackets added]


© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)

a poet who cares
 Thorb
Joined: 7/15/2005
Msg: 846
time to go
Posted: 2/28/2006 12:12:12 PM
you may want to serve God
but I want you to serve lunch
my mind may be like a bog
swallowing anything in a bunch

Timely quotes from long ago
bring my mind into extra slow
hey, yea pal, I think I know
look at the clock its time to go

Guess I'll have to wait for the next go round
for that lunch though I liked its sound
Mammon can be so full of mamories
I kinda like to say "can I have some please"

Oh the wanton images in the mist of my head
the desires and dreams sometime fulfilled in bed
keeps me bound to this earthly plane
I might be crazy but at least I'm sane

Poems can reflect or invent reality
some may bring enlightenment or pity
others can enrich your tormented soul
or make you laugh if that's their goal

hate is a word I choose to delete
from my limited vocabulary sheet
By doing so I may also shove
that other word they call love.

Now there are hundreds of threads on that subject
and I can only refer you to some other's intellect
for I try to avoid too much reference to them
I'd rather have a stiff drink or get stabbed by a pen

Now I see I'm rambling once again
time to go and find some friends
to take me out of this cyber space
relink my body with the human race.
 poetwhocares
Joined: 5/1/2005
Msg: 847
and what came next
Posted: 2/28/2006 12:25:29 PM
5133
Was It Called Love

28 February 2006


What was faith
this honour to give
Words to understand
things that were to live

The kind of faith given in hope
this charity of Jesus Christ to hold
Such was a feeling in being a believer
not to be void of happiness or true gold

So was it true - His death was part of a plan
this point of time to be crucified and true
In standing up for conviction as to lies
others might just say would never do

Nails to hang by in evidence scarred
hands pierced to the point of blood
Saved from dishonour - safe to be real
this faith - was it called love


“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
John 3: 16 KJV


© 2006 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)

a poet who cares
 Thorb
Joined: 7/15/2005
Msg: 848
zod ipsing doodle
Posted: 3/1/2006 12:21:18 PM
I thought I'd go and buy a poodle
maybe call her Zod ipsing doodle
take her for a walk down to the park
or leave her at home and let her bark

I wouldn't bother quoting phrases
of people long dead from other places
I'd just play with a frisbee and my dog
that's a good girl my sweet little Zod

I think its funny how somany get bent
with misconceptions and time just spent
I have seen it before and will see it again
philosophising though pipe fulls in the den

Where can we go and still feel right at home
who are you with that makes you feel alone
A benevolent being surely doesn't need you
if you split it in half do you think you have two

Me and my little dog Zod think quite alike
we enjoy time together down bye the dyke
watching the seagulls play greedy games
trying to remember each others name

Is it still that one is the sum of the parts
like souls and love and broken hearts
If God is all and everything we should sing
but praise isn't needed and there nothing to bring

See all and everything is just that
not only goodness but ugly and fat
everything you see and all that you do
is part of this God you think is all true.

We don't need some book to show us the way
Me and Zod can make paths on any given day
God must be always in and around us
for we're part of everything we can trust
 Separated44
Joined: 1/17/2006
Msg: 849
Having Nothing
Posted: 3/1/2006 5:45:44 PM
If I had nothing to offer
not one red cent in the coffer
would it make any difference to you
if I showed up and said hi to you?
would it matter at all if I took your dog Zod
around to the tree and picked up her clod?
if I was as broke as I truly am found
would it matter at all if I came around?
If you owned the forest and all of the glade
would it then matter if I showed up and stayed?
Is there anything I can bring you my friend?
Can I send you a drink or a fine feather pen?
Nothing I am, and nothing I do
but still I believe I am something to you.
So I show up and do whatever I can
worthless it is, but I'd do it again.
God is in all, but does not one need
we are not God, but we are His seed
What then would happen to me as a friend
in spitting at you while in your forest just then?
What would you tell your dog Zod then to do
If I flung my hand with the bird up at you?
Id have no cloth on the seat of my pants
and while your gun smoked my feet would sure dance.
So is it now in His forest we are, He draws so near yet we run so far.
Nothing He asks for; nothing we own,
nothing but time out of life for His own.
Come, let us walk in the garden again
and reason together Friend unto friend.
 Thorb
Joined: 7/15/2005
Msg: 850
Having Nothing
Posted: 3/1/2006 8:13:34 PM
I look around and what can I see
nothing has value in totality
nothing to pawn or sell to the angels
nothing to keep when the ferryman sets sail
Its funny how things seem to be posessed
only to vanish with that new thought quest
Family and friends are all you may have
if you have them you should feel very glad
The cloths on you back really aren't yours
they're just another part of society's floors
like the walls and windows that keep you contained
doors open and close with thoughts in your brain
Change your mind and you change yourself
just you being kind is like a form of wealth
you may think you have nothing as you look around
posessions are no better than dust on the ground
remember all and everything is realized in you head
gods devils angels and demons are words someone said.
You can choose to believe whatever you please
Even if you think life's a contageous disease
Show ALL Forums  > Poems And Quotes  > So ya wanna be a poet?