Unrehearsed and so on, just fly.
Here's mine for now.
Wise guy
Aye he said for he was good with words,
And let them fly, but sometimes
Sat back a little and watched the birds,
As they passed by
And in his mind he committed crimes.
Printable View
Unrehearsed and so on, just fly.
Here's mine for now.
Wise guy
Aye he said for he was good with words,
And let them fly, but sometimes
Sat back a little and watched the birds,
As they passed by
And in his mind he committed crimes.
Tommy met Melissa where
The park provided shade.
They talked until he touched her there
And then he kissed the maid.
Solid yesno. A million points for you.
Something
Am off to see the thing with which I don't agree--
We shall see, how will it be?
I dunno yet, but I bet
It will be something I have seen,
Or maybe something I aint seen yet.
Have no time
Forgot what I wanted to say.
Watched Springsteen and Chuck Berry
this is not a poem.
It's that ever pervasive feeling that
Growing Up will offer no
Improvment to this Inbalance
I so often refer to as
My personality.
I have this coffee table - it's huge and designed to take a pair of feet no sweat - anybody's feet, everybody's feet, Bigfoot's big feet - with boots on
I go to a friend's house and automatically put my feet on their coffee table - seen 'em do it to mine
Well they look at me like I've just had a crap in their living room - won't be goin' back there again! And everyone's welcome to put their weary feet on my coffee table except them!
:smilewinkgrin:Quote:
Originally Posted by MystyrMystyry
I was looking for a different smiley.
I don't have a coffee table. I could never see the point of having one. It just takes up room. And people think they can put their feet on it. Basically what I need is a thing-to-put-your-dirty-feet-on kind of furniture.
I guess I'll look for one when I get tired of looking for smileys.
Tell me more, tell me all,
tell me what are we two,
tell me how do you do,
tell me more, tell me all.
free,
that's beautiful.
I went to Wales in yester-spring
And saw a hill named Blorenge.
To me, the most surprising thing
Was that it rhymes with orange.
I've got a story that has an object called a Blorange, and the colour Blorange
It's pretty old now though
Here's one:
I hate Microsoft - not overall just the name
It's strange how I have automatic updates on
And they can't update their programmes
Maybe they need a change of name like Soft On ?
Circle and hurkle also popped into my head, but I couldn't make anything out of them on the spot. :(Quote:
Originally Posted by MystyrMystyry
Regarding Cats & Earwax
While pondering earwax
and its fondness by cats
I recalled that one could
check one's keyboard
with a UV lamp
for signs of feline mist
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Popped into my head whilst spending time with my baby niece yesterday, it made her laugh :)
Sticky fingers, just learnt to crawl
Sticky fingers all up the wall
Sticky fingers all over the telly
Smeary smears of petroleum jelly
"Oh what is this" mum is pouting
"Sticky fingers!" mum is shouting
Wish I knew what I did wrong
Me 'n' sticky fingers were just having fun
The fine rain falls but the city's wrecked with weeds and the overcoat I lost makes me search my clothes
I find a good old shirt, should really get an umbrella
It's dark now and the cracks are tricky
No one carries a flashlight but I reckon it's an idea
The 24 hour store knows me well, I get some beers for my bag and lumber back, through the rain and the cracks and the dark, another morning waiting to say hello
Can you feel
the soft cool breeze
flowing past your face?
Can you feel
the beautiful water
reaching out its hand
as if
inviting you
into its cool grasp?
Can you feel
the humid temperature
warming your body
inside
and out?
you can feel anything
if you can imagine.
Nice one PRK.
I Ain’t the Broken Hearted
I know on the outside
I look so calm and together
but inside you will never know
what a wreck I am,
a tornado spinning round
kicking up high winds
and tearing me asunder,
but don’t think that means
I will fall away, fall apart
because my strength overrides
the pain.
Now I find myself stranded
between two different worlds
in one I see you waiting there
and in the other I walk alone,
but it is left to you to decide
just which way I will go,
because no longer am I chasing
after fool hardy dreams,
so will you beckon me forth
or let it all just fade away.
No longer will I be your Atlas
holding everything on my own,
I won’t court to half made
distant promises while waiting,
a dutiful Penelope, so you better
decide what you want me to do,
will you just wither away living
among broken bottles and old sorrows,
or have you got the hunger like the
wolf to drag me back home.
Don’t think I won’t just walk
away if you aren’t willing to
take a stand so if you want me to
stay you better be ready to
hunt me down with your nose
to the ground, and no mercy
let show.
So you better arm yourself
and come after me with everything
you have, because I am past the point
of pleading and my patience is at its end,
now it is your battle to win or loose
and prove that you crave me ever as
much as I was in heat for you.
Nice one Muse. Did you really just make that one up on the spot?
Reads like a song.
Thank you and yes I did.Quote:
Originally Posted by jajdude
LOL that is funny becasue it was as I was listening to music that I set me off on writing this.
No one saw you slip from the crib
down the hallway, through where the all of us live;
No one heard your pitter-patter on the smack-smack tile floor.
Nobody knew, but you couldn't belong.
The red-hot cast iron and a treacherous edge,
you wanted to reach but lacked leverage.
Poor little babe, you kid yourself short.
If you can't handle the heat, well,
crawl toward the door.
Hi Jack,
I can read you all day.
Some serious rain is falling now,
Don't ask me why, don't ask me how,
Can't you hear it?
Some clouds are running away now too,
Don't say you didn't notice that,
Or did you not notice that?
The ghosts are in the kitchen now,
With sharp knives they're conspiring now,
Tell me, don't you feel it?
Trying to type fast and faster
fingers stuck on keys that feel strange
and new
or is it the words my fingertips refuse?
is it the emotions my head messes up?
or the hurry?
Type fast and fatser, fingres
stuck and emotiosn and wrods
waht a mess
fsat hurry faster keys figrnes
'don't leave' souldh be esay to#type yet there
u go…
Fragility of Love
How could I have been
so wrong again,
all the while etching
angry words in my heart
while standing alone in the dark,
and fuling my longs with venom.
So ready I was
to push you back
pull away
when yet you had remained
keeping vigil
unrelenting you remained
faithful to the memory of me.
And when I was ready
to tear the walls down
and leave among the settling
dust of our ruin.
You had not faltered
your trust never once
wavered unknowing of the
private battle against
you all this time I waged.
Could you have taken me back
if you knew how easily
my belief in you had shattered
and while you were
thinking only of me,
I armed myself
to turn away.
My strength buckled,
how can I ask you
to understand when I feel
myself beyond forgiveness
a fraud in mine own eye.
Woke up, was 50, decided to pick up a guitar,
Reckoned I could strum, maybe write something before dead,
But nope, I was just useless, and isn't life like that?
I like this Muse:
"dust of our ruin. "
Don't leave me in the cup like wasted tea leaves,
don't leave me like daylight creeps from afternoon,
don't leave me, wilted petals stained in
night-time shades of blue.
This might be the most brilliant thread in all of LitNet.
J
EDIT: Gotta control the urge to do this all day and not post 50. This is downright invigorating. Favorite thread by far.
I wouldn't go that far Jack, but thanks. I like your work.
Thank you!Quote:
Originally Posted by jajdude
I really enjoyed your poem
Quote:
Woke up, was 50, decided to pick up a guitar,
Reckoned I could strum, maybe write something before dead,
But nope, I was just useless, and isn't life like that?
Cheers, Muse.
They say words tumble as they rumble,
The pace they follow, solid or hollow,
The breaks they echo, the shapes they enter,
The designs they encourage, the spaces they hold,
The wings they carry, the souls they marry,
The divisions they pursue, their ferocity so cold,
The fury they pound, the softness they fade,
Through rivers of the human, through torrents of the mundane,
Across great leaps, into shadows unseen,
The clutches they stagger, the finality they befall,
The wickedness and torture, the chains they gather,
The crowds they poison, the hope they falter..
They say words do this.
Over
Life goes by too fast, it seems,
And someone new to hope now dreams.
My tired eyes blink
at the screen -
where is my ancient mind?
Coffee dreams and broken streams flow through as I think of you,
A memory in colors, and nothing could be duller than that,
Though hours rage and we engage ourselves in other wars,
There's no chance for circumstance to overcome these broken streams
And coffee dreams that flow through as I think of you.
Dude,
dig it.
J
When days of August fall away,
and December forbids the birds to sing,
and February marches away the gray,
into my bed shall April spring.
In the expanse of green meadow,
fresh after a rainstorm,
and further in, past a stretch of
a brook that made no noise-
beneath the breaking grey sky,
between the cluster of trees,
below the canopy,
were some smoothed stones
and mossy sticks-
and on the earthen floor
there were dried pine needles
where underneath one held the smallest bead,
the last kiss of rainwater-
I thought that might be me.
J
Everlasting self-revolution, I'm forever searching for solutions, my mind creates its own illusions, my everlasting self-pollution.