How about poetry starts?

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  1. paradigmsearch profile image90
    paradigmsearchposted 8 years ago

    The dream began/started/begun was/is/will be...

  2. Ben Evans profile image69
    Ben Evansposted 8 years ago

    A dream has shown a path yet unknown.
    The beginning is marked with a sense
    of anticipation of what is yet to be.
    A broad panorama with a moon in the center
    will change with the days sun
    and the direction we walk.

  3. poetvix profile image67
    poetvixposted 8 years ago

    The dream began eons ago
    when we were one in the heavens.
    Our energies mingled together.
    For centuries we merged.
    Only to be torn asunder.
    Sent to hell on earth
    to spend our lives searching
    for each other,
    the missing half of souls.

  4. Jaggedfrost profile image75
    Jaggedfrostposted 8 years ago

    That is an interesting look at why we are here.  I never considered God that sadistic, truthfully.

    1. poetvix profile image67
      poetvixposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      Honestly, I don't see God that way either.  I was working on two other writes and took a break and came here.  What you see above is kinda a merge I guess of some themes from the other two that just came out as I whipped that off here.
      If we are speaking of God, I have to say I see nothing but mercy and love else how would he continue to be with us mortals?
      Sorry, getting kinda religous toned here.

  5. Jaggedfrost profile image75
    Jaggedfrostposted 8 years ago

    The interesting thing is that if he were only those things then he couldn't be just and perfect.  While I don't see god as sadistic I actually understood the perspective of the observations you made anyhow.  Sometimes trying to balance the justice that has a tendency of creating terrible things as natural consequences of men's actions that God doesn't obstruct, against the mercy that give love and life to all things and give life is a contradiction that has caused more then just you to pause and wonder even if you came to those observations by accident.

  6. couturepopcafe profile image59
    couturepopcafeposted 8 years ago

    the dream

    i want to write about happy polka dots
    where goats nibble on rocky hillsides

    instead i dream of cities being blown up in the distance
    i follow the line of pickup trucks loaded with deer rifles and shotguns
    i can survive - at least for the few minutes it takes for my dream to run its course

    sitting in a cement walled facility, knees pulled into my chest, i sing
    "and the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air"

    when i wake, the first light of day is streaking hazily into my room
    i think of happy polka dots

    but the night and war seem more than a dream.

  7. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    The dream, yet why at remembrance, should I burn?
    T'was a dream of mirage and cannot return.
    But was she, too, a spirit, the waif who flew by,
    And breathed in my bed, while she hid from mine eye?
    Was she, too, a vision, just chancing to view,
    Then lifted with the sunrise, or mingled in dew?
    Oh! should it seem so,--Oh! should that her eye,
    Had been but a star-gleam that dropped from the sky,
    And her voice that was framed of falsetto thrill,
    Had been but the Lark, that sang then was still!

    1. Beth100 profile image73
      Beth100posted 8 years agoin reply to this

      I can't top that Ralwus!!  And, I'm not about to try...at least not at the moment.  smile  xox

    2. 2uesday profile image82
      2uesdayposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      Fantastic to read. That should go in your book. smile

  8. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    Ahh shyt Beth. You can do it. Well, anyway, think on it a bit and return with something, er, Beth. Thanks sweety.

  9. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    I suppose maybe I should save it then 2uesday? I will consider and maybe add to it then on your recommendation. Thanks. smile

  10. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    Slumber of the Monarch

    A sleeping did her spirit feel;
    She had no human cares:
    She seemed a thing not so real
    With naught of earthly wares.
    She neither hears nor sees,
    Resting now under green embrace,
    With wings, and leaves, and breeze;
    Sleep well, wee fairy of dancing grace.

  11. CMCastro profile image77
    CMCastroposted 8 years ago

    Awake for such a living fantasy
    Asleep to miss the real purpose for doze.
    A trial of ideas that sends your mind to wander
    That's the difference between poetry and prose.

  12. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    Very nice CMCastro. So true.

  13. Beth100 profile image73
    Beth100posted 8 years ago

    Just for Ralwus, I'll try the start of one tonight.....

    ......

    A dream began with folded wings
    Glory be to the heart that's free
    Young and strong with roots of a tree
    A beauty sought by all the kings

    From lands afar they came to hear
    Voice so clear singing love a song
    Prisoner of love far too long
    Drawing everyone far so near

    ......

    Only you could get me to write one...it's been months since I wrote a poem!!  xox  smile

    1. profile image0
      ralwusposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      Very nice Beth. See? I knew you had it. xox

  14. profile image0
    kimberlyslyricsposted 8 years ago

    If one delicately sleeps inches away
    Despite the loud snore
    and completely misses her birthday
    Would she be considered a selfish whore?

    1. profile image0
      ralwusposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      LOL yes! good one Kim big_smile

  15. Wayne Brown profile image85
    Wayne Brownposted 8 years ago

    Met in the truckstop; thought her a vamp
    Left me high n' dry; nothin' but a tramp
    Now I keep on going, don't stop in anymore
    Got no use for women, the truckstop whore

  16. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    Is that your dream WB? wink

    1. Wayne Brown profile image85
      Wayne Brownposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      Must be! LOL!

  17. paradigmsearch profile image90
    paradigmsearchposted 8 years ago

    There was a young lady from Boston, Mass.

    Who stood in the ocean up to her… ankles.

    It doesn’t rhyme.

    But in twelve hours...

    It will.

  18. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    We don't care. did she git her hair wet?

    1. Wayne Brown profile image85
      Wayne Brownposted 8 years agoin reply to this

      Yes, now she has to comb it and powder her cheeks!

  19. paradigmsearch profile image90
    paradigmsearchposted 8 years ago

    The blond part or the brunette part?

  20. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    haha I think you know, the curly parts. wink

  21. paradigmsearch profile image90
    paradigmsearchposted 8 years ago

    She’s coming in. I’ll check…

  22. Wayne Brown profile image85
    Wayne Brownposted 8 years ago

    A dream overcomes the gentle sleep so serene
    A nightmare of sorts shoving way in between
    Things that creak and go bump in the night
    Unknowns that scare with flash of light

    Struggle to run from them in your nap
    Fight back, scream, pinch, bite, and slap
    Anything to get away and just wake
    A dream too long in the time it takes

  23. profile image0
    ralwusposted 8 years ago

    To Dream

    Wake up my rotted soul
    and tell the new day to me;
    behooved, sorry-struck, immured
    in wall of sensual sleep. Slowly
    rise and blink the mist from your eye
    and show your red secrets, your nightly sighs
    to the world of wonder and me. Dreams
    to live to become real when you awaken
    when morning pronounces truce over
    the night meeting day in the dragon's bed.
    Cry out your innocence when you
    sigh backward into the amorous arm
    of her sea as dead.
    Wake my rotted soul, look down on the
    serpent that struck men from the loft
    of vanity. Burn in my world sad-struck,
    beloved, burn in my world the sensual sleep
    and tell the new day to me.

  24. Petra Vlah profile image60
    Petra Vlahposted 8 years ago

    between dreams
    and
    nightmares
    revolving doors
    keep moving

 
working

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