i thoght that maybe we could have our own little mashing pot for self written "stuff" like poems (very) short stories and other things like that so here's mine
my one my only
Stealth and speed which you have never possess?d,
A shell so dull and ever so brittle,
All your life, dirt and sand have you caress?d
Love and lust, your life ...
Nice Chippa, harsh to keep snails in captivity though, I hope you choose to use him/her/it as part of your dare!
If you want to see some of mine got to the song lyrics thread or the poem of the day, unless you want me to post them in here as well. S'up to you. _________________
oh i didn't keep 'im for long i was just reminiscing about my 6th year when i would race snails i would bet blades of grass on them and then let them free into my backyard the next day after school i would find them all again and race them again. i had a very favourite one i called him "super-psuedo-flash-man-aka-roger" i called him petey and he was identifyable by the streak of red nail polish ...
Release yourself to me
Open your heart and mind
Allow me to enter into the windows of your soul
A journey taken down many paths of your past, present, and future
For what hidden pains are locked away
Secrets untold for any reasons
Strives held for the future
Release yourself to me
Allow my to feel the very essence of your soul
The colors in your life
To hear the ...
chippa, silly me i thought "snail" was symbolic for something, but i really like ur poem.
ive got one, am kind of sensitive about my poetry, but what the hay:
this is where im from
where streets connect
ya & people say they reprisent
but i represent nothing
the streets represent me
i know every corner
people on every street
every face of the sun
when the sun greets ...
I hope people don't mind me pulling there poems apart and analysing the meaning. Please discuss it with me, as I am interested to know your thoughts.
Jari, your poem is addressing someone in your life who is hiding themselves away from the world. Someone you care about perhaps? You seem to go to a lot of trouble to talk to them. I get the impression this person is a musician, or a big ...
Jez, have you ever spent part of your life in a large city like New York? The colloquialism 'represent' reminds me of urban culture, and the use of the collective noun 'streets' also suggests this, although you feel isolated from it with your retort 'I represent nothing'. The message behind your poem is that you are bigger than those who 'represent' the streets. Either you are the most ...
By the way Jez, I don't know if it was you who asked me, I think it may have been Greta, but I tried to put one of my songs to music, it wasn't very good so I will try recording it again tomorrow. _________________
Moshei, to be completely honest I never had anyone question my poetry before. However, I will answer this for you. Yes, this person is in my life and no they are not blind. I am the type of person that I am eager to know everything about someone; it's my fascination to know where a person comes from and where life will lead them in the future. Music really moves me and I like to add it in my ...
Ahh, good so I was almost right then. I like to explore the meanings of different forms of literature. Its nice to see other people posting their own poetry on these forums. _________________
What is in your voice, calming smooth velvety Hmm, that makes my heart flutter As if I were a school child Wide-eyed and amazed Pattering at my chest Beating Thumping Melting Hmm, my soul taken on a trip Sailing in the blue moon, In your voice I will follow Guiding like the star lit sky Twinkling Steadily Calling out to my name Uhhh, what is in your voice? That has these emotions rolling What is in your voice? That it keeps me from breaking...
*Written 9-17-95. I was 15 and feeling morose.* DEATH TO AN ANGEL by Tushkahill Over a world of many lights, my wings twirl. Waiting within in my body, an insane killer sits. He walks into an unlit hallway with chains on his ankles. My body flies away. Many men talk of his intentions. They record his every move. Smoking cigarretes and drinking coffee, they wait insolently on any proof. They offer him a smoke, but he had quit. Spinning red...
Thanks. What you say is absolutely true, everyone here is great. We should get it published ;D _________________ I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it. ~Voltaire
Here's the prologue from a fiction piece I wrote earlier in the year. Just felt like posting it for no particular reason. No one else has read this, you guys are the first. Chapter I - Prologue Lillian ran from the big ranch house, tears streaming down her face. Her torn dress hung from her shoulders in pieces as she held to front together with one hand. Her other hand hung by her side, shoes dangling from her fingers as she fled...
way to go people! lets see some more poems! _________________ If there ever comes a day when we can?t be together, keep me in your heart, I?ll stay there forever. -- Winnie the Pooh *jezebelle*
Mosh, i treat it as a song, not a poem Your emotions are real, candid and warm As I sense the clouds over your mind The reason why i relate with empathy Is that a soul like yours is never cold, never empty _________________ Life is a lesson. Learn from it.
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