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Poem pool: share poems

Lovetheworld4real
Posts: 25
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9/1/2015 10:32:33 PM
Posted: 1 year ago
They'll never know
What it is like
To never show
My honest plight

To hold it back
Not to fight
Withhold the slack
Not to bite

It turns me cold
Dead inside
To barely hold
The beast alive

Piling upon me
Towering heights
Restraining hardly
Threatening fights

It seems to much
I must give way
Explodes to touch
Starting to sway

I'm dead and I'm cold and I have to unfold and it's just who I am I have to fight or be damned and you can start to see what it does to me because I'm holding back a monster no one wants to see and few keys can unlock my secrets, break my chains and set me free

because I'm a prisoner to me
Live Love Laugh
Lovetheworld4real
Posts: 25
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9/1/2015 10:38:12 PM
Posted: 1 year ago
This is where you share personally made poems and MAY NOT criticize in any harsh ways. You may also analyze and relate to poems written by famous authors such as Shel Silverstein.
Live Love Laugh
fromantle
Posts: 274
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10/19/2015 8:36:35 PM
Posted: 1 year ago
Its short of additions , they are all on Poetry Please.
There is too much genius for me to add a single letter.
How could I follow this?

What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare

The writer was a tramp for sometime and like me he prefered staring to working, but there the similarity ended ; he could say what he thought mine is a hopeless jumble.
ironslippers
Posts: 513
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10/20/2015 6:04:33 AM
Posted: 1 year ago
Tangle drip of conscouness from my third eye
falls from the stool on to the carpet
Pain reminds me I'm alive

Stench of human experience devoirs the flowers
seasoned in chilis and peppers
microwaved burrito from 7-11
internal organs that try to escape
experience the rape, I cry

I call this gem...

Hemorrhoids
Everyone stands on their own dung hill and speaks out about someone else's - Nathan Krusemark
Its easier to criticize and hate than it is to support and create - I Ron Slippers
ironslippers
Posts: 513
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10/20/2015 8:05:14 PM
Posted: 1 year ago
its difficult to make a stand when one is obese
For there is a cold sweat, bitter and sweet
a price to enter
plates sprung, glasses chipped

salivating salvation paradise where rabbits might feed
transient enjoyment of roots and leaves
a grain of perception
infections of lard from ignorant teats

a taste often covered when another one bleeds
'welcome to the slaughter' cries decreed
convulsing spasms
slicing and stabbing for longing lips
all of this for a bowl of ice-cream

title....

Fat Man at the Buffet
Everyone stands on their own dung hill and speaks out about someone else's - Nathan Krusemark
Its easier to criticize and hate than it is to support and create - I Ron Slippers
ironslippers
Posts: 513
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10/20/2015 11:37:58 PM
Posted: 1 year ago
I omnipotent the master of the rest
doubtful? humble? thoughtful? apply not to me
look here. Indicative stars on my chest
Look! Look here! Look at me!
a suckling with no reference to life
no experience to speak of, still I am right.

should my plans turn to dirt, well it's clearly your fault
if your feelings are hurt, that's not my problem to fix
should wounds be torn open or you thirst for anything
if sick or burdened I'll give you a wink
Look! Look here! Look at me!
I don't need you
don't turn your back
you are my servant and everything that I lack

title...

King of the Clique
Everyone stands on their own dung hill and speaks out about someone else's - Nathan Krusemark
Its easier to criticize and hate than it is to support and create - I Ron Slippers
ironslippers
Posts: 513
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10/24/2015 7:04:43 AM
Posted: 1 year ago
A band-aid on a hair cut
A bad temper in the rain
Banana skins I can slip into
amusement I can ride again
trivial obsession of status
a rock that resides in my pants
wheels so I can get to...
a place amongst the ants
derelict studies close intrude my expanding mind
a dance I can hold on to the Love of my life
More books or power schemes
the placenta left behind
consumer hast conqueror trace
and a child on the way
battles bitter and held on to as I make my way
Here I am the man I make
Here I am a man enslaved
though I'm bored I'm not lazy
defending my child crazy
Can you smell my flesh its burning
relief just years away

title...

Just before the Crisis
Everyone stands on their own dung hill and speaks out about someone else's - Nathan Krusemark
Its easier to criticize and hate than it is to support and create - I Ron Slippers
fidlar.cat
Posts: 1
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11/25/2015 6:13:14 AM
Posted: 1 year ago
"Lonely"
I'm so lonely, I'm more ignored than Will Smtih's second son
I feel longer than a white crayon
I am the first piece of bread that no one eats
I am the terms of agreements that no one reads
I am the 18 plus warning no one pays attention to
I feel like Kevin Jonas
Remember him from the Jonas brothers crew?
Or did you forget about him too?
Briannj17
Posts: 360
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12/16/2015 5:03:10 PM
Posted: 11 months ago
Life is a song, sung by us all,
This song lifts me up, and may make me fall.
This song has many melodies, many styles, many choices,
Harmonies, genres and very many voices.

Certain people prefer louder songs, they enjoy the busy lives that they have.
Some enjoy the sound of silence, doing nothing is quite sad.
I would be in the middle, like most people I know,
I prefer the busyness of life but being lazy also.

Life is full of genres, from your country to your techno
I'm living a folksong, the song from long ago,
I"m an old fashioned kind of guy, ya know.
Cause I love Jesus, mom, and apple pie,
Work, good times, and the deep blue sky,
Animals, music, and the time off in July.

Life is a song everyone sings,
Life isn't all gold and diamond rings,
It may raise us high, or leave us low
It may be sunny, or cold wind may blow
But my song is well done, this I can say,
For it has made me who I am today.
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King of Poetry in this poem lacking era
Briannj17
Posts: 360
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12/16/2015 5:04:35 PM
Posted: 11 months ago
Based on the memoir by Elie Wiesel "Night" which describes the events of the Holocaust.

The darkest days I"m living in.
Life no longer has any power.
It"s a thing to dread and so I cower,
However death, I cannot let it win.

How did we get here?
Will we ever know?
Life is a burden a heavy blow,
And my soul is filled with fear.

Does anybody care?
Anybody hear our pleas?
For they echo through the dark forest trees,
Come on God! This is not fair!

Our bodies litter the desolate plain,
They are like stones,
All the bones,
That were run through the flame.

Nobodies coming to save us from hell;
Working day in and day out,
Payed with a club and a shout,
Trying to ignore the burning flesh smell.

I fear every day is my last,
Living is now defined by soup and bread,
Ones that don"t eat will soon be dead,
I often dream of food from my past.

We often hear how soon be our release.
It raises our hope,
Helps us to cope,
All we really want is some peace.

I remember we used to laugh and run.
Then is this a night mare?
For only hell can compare,
For now Fathers are abandoned by their son.

Marching fast now in the freezing cold,
Now we only number a few,
My body and spirit now two,
Never have I felt so weary and old.

My family is now all dead.
My pa also now rests.
Oh how I wish to express,
But the feelings cannot be read.

These days are just the worst.
The Germans are worried,
In the courtyard were hurried,
Lives die at the sound of a burst.

Each day goes by so quickly.
Selected, I hope not,
For surely I"ll be shot
If they so choose to pick me.

I somehow lived to tell this tale.
I should be dead,
But this wouldn"t be read.
How did I win when others fail?

Those darkest days I was living in,
Life was a very delicate string.
Less than a second and death it could bring.
However night" I cannot let it win.
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King of Poetry in this poem lacking era
Briannj17
Posts: 360
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12/16/2015 5:13:26 PM
Posted: 11 months ago
Adapted from the book "The Call of the Wild" by Jack London

With the promise of gold
Many men grew bold
With money on their mind
Is this the nature of mankind?

To forget about family
Minds filled with insanity
Like a loss of gravity
They floated away from love
Into the dark clouds above.

In this time it was rare
To find a man that cared
About anything other
Than the scent of gold in the air.

With many false promises of gold
Many men grew old
But no money did they find.
But this is the nature of mankind.
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King of Poetry in this poem lacking era
Briannj17
Posts: 360
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12/16/2015 5:14:14 PM
Posted: 11 months ago
Adapted from the book by Jack London "The Sea Wolf"
(The Ghost is a sailing ship)

Stealthy as a leopard, the Ghost sails along. Barely making a sound, the Ghost is like a feather as it brushes the water. Fog is in the air, a living thing. It claws at the ship and swallows everything in its path. Yet the Ghost is unaffected. Valiant as a Knight the ship is a gallant steed ready to win the battle against the sea and everything else that dares defy him.
The knight, Captain Wolf Larson, stares blankly at the sea. He knows about the storm that will come. He knows the storm out powers him. Yet he is unmoved. Soon the wind forcefully tears the fog aside, revealing the dark clouds above and the rolling sea around. The rain starts to pour, hard.
Wolf Larson knows the sea will try its best to destroy the ship and the crew, and yet Larson smiles. He enjoys this. This is the battle for life in its finest. The water is a two-edge sword ready to slash and pull the ship under. Rocks are teeth to smash and tear away the armour. However, Wolf Larson knows he has the upper hand, for he rides the Ghost. The Steed of the Sea.
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King of Poetry in this poem lacking era
SuperHuman
Posts: 31
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12/21/2015 2:05:19 PM
Posted: 11 months ago
At 9/1/2015 10:32:33 PM, Lovetheworld4real wrote:
They'll never know
What it is like
To never show
My honest plight

To hold it back
Not to fight
Withhold the slack
Not to bite

It turns me cold
Dead inside
To barely hold
The beast alive

Piling upon me
Towering heights
Restraining hardly
Threatening fights

It seems to much
I must give way
Explodes to touch
Starting to sway

I'm dead and I'm cold and I have to unfold and it's just who I am I have to fight or be damned and you can start to see what it does to me because I'm holding back a monster no one wants to see and few keys can unlock my secrets, break my chains and set me free


because I'm a prisoner to me

I like the next poem of Rudyard Kypling:

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don"t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don"t give way to hating,
And yet don"t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream"and not make dreams your master;
If you can think"and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you"ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build "em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings"nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds" worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that"s in it,
And"which is more"you"ll be a Man, my son!
Briannj17
Posts: 360
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1/13/2016 3:34:08 PM
Posted: 10 months ago
When Death is the Way
By
Brian N. Johnson

My days are all numbered,
It's a matter of time,
Before I pass away,
From this world I call mine.

All the suffering I've known,
Times I've spent alone,
While crying I now pray,
For a new pain free day.

There exists a time I was free,
From constant pain and sorrow,
Filled with immense joy and love,
And a bright hope for tomorrow.

Until like a viper it struck,
And with no way to get up,
It holds me down to this day,
"No cure." the doctors say.

I had a great skill
The stage was my thrill,
Singing gave me the fame,
The cancer brought me pain.

"What cased this?" I ask,
An act of God? My past?
Nobody knows,
And the pain slowly grows.

To win I must fight,
It's a one on one match,
If I lose I die,
That is the main catch.

But what do I gain if I win?
Life later will do me in,
Should I give up? Let go?
On family and friends ? Hell no!

Life itself is a trial,
A never ending test,
Requiring strength and study,
To do your very best.

Curse the day I was born!
The day my shape took form,
I should have been a dove,
Free and filled with love.

Yet I continue to fight,
With all my power and might,
In my soul I'm still strong,
For my body it can't be long.

Life is a thread,
Not one is the same,
for each one is different,
Mines stretched with pain.

The last stage they say I'm on,
They say this is my last song,
I cannot now resist the sleep,
My life is now measured with a beep.

To die now would be bliss,
For what kind of life is this?
The pain now is numbing me,
And my loved ones I no longer see.

My days are now over,
Now is the time,
I must pass on to God's care.
Now I feel fine!

Gone is the suffering I've known!
For now I know I'm not alone,
Now I'm laughing in praise,
The pain,is now lifted away.
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King of Poetry in this poem lacking era