Share a Poem

1. 59

   GoldenBirdposted 13 years ago

   Whether you have written the poem, or this is a poet who is not that much popular to the people, but familiarize us with the unknown work of a not-so-well-known master. Will I begin? -OK. Here is an Oriental poet's lines..
   
   
   "Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
   They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets."
   
   
   
   Let us secularize hub-forums

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   1. 0

      setarehposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      Here is one of mine;
      
      He is sat in a wingback chair in his study
      The gardens are stretched out before him
      He watches her smile and move and be
      His house guest.
      
      He leans further back, but feels no comfort in it
      A weary sigh pierces the silence
      She is bending down, picking yellow daisies
      His ideal woman.
      
      Two long decades ago marked their meeting
      He now knows her quirks, her scars and fears
      And her hopes. Though she cannot see all of his
      His dearest friend.
      
      He gazes as intently, as revering as usual
      The Sun lends a glow to her honey-wheat strands
      Could she ever understand how she transfixed him?
      His lone desire.
      
      It is torture as he roams over her rose-petal face
      Her eyes glimmer, her lips curve. His breath is robbed
      She does not know how enchanting she is
      His only thought.
      
      He hides his head and mind in large trembling hands
      But she is etched in his imperfect person
      She does not see the love he harbours
      His dream.
      
      He will, soon perhaps, be in another realm
      He likes to think she will place orchids by his marble slab
      And though he had never believed it before, he hopes he shall feel her
      His world.
      
      He stops midway - leafs through pages and recalls acquaintances
      She will need someone; truly loyal and kind and perfect
      And she may fall in love with one of these gents
      His soul mate.
      
      He rubs at his eyes when the ink slides down words
      Names cross his lips but neither sound right alongside hers
      Because it should be his. She should be his.
      His only redemption.
      
      There is nothing but empty hopes in his pained mind
      And her name and her face and her goodness
      None of which will he live to hold
      His weakness.
      
      He drops to his knees, his face crumpled with defeat
      With eyes shut tightly though the floor still grows wet
      But he will live until he can give her away
      His only wish.
      
      He sees her stroll down the pebbled path
      He will one day watch her pledge herself to another
      She will not fathom the expression he will wear
      His heartbreak.
      
      Thank you all

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2. 78

   ufkposted 13 years ago

   NAPOLEONIC ENID BLYTON
   It felt as if I was rampaging through the pages of an Enid Blyton storybook….jogging through the Enchanted Forest among the red-spotted toadstools and green luscious trees…and excitedly climbing the friendly Magic Faraway Tree. I poked my head through the fluffy white clouds..at the top of the tree..expecting to see elves giving away sweets to funny furry animals and happy old women..with broad grins and cuddly spiders.  I was disenchanted. I saw politicians arguing over the abortion law..and I saw..disasters of our modern age…I saw… two tall trenchcoat-clad gentlemen beating up BigEars…presumably the victim of a money-lender’s trap.  I saw the Three Golliwogs being ushered into a Black Maria…hand-cuffed not to a jovial PC Plod but to three vicious looking bastards with hands the size of three hams. So I slowly started my descent of the once majestic tree…now riddled with dutch elm disease. Each limb and twisted bough offered a view of life’s ugliness.  Where once sat a chuckling pixie now nestled an ogre..with a dagger and a threat. I hit the ground..with a soul-stirring thud..and decided that adulthood was a sever blow to my life. I awoke. I laid in sweat..and decided that I should do something today with my life…because I knew that somebody up there was wheeling the old metal chair towards me and booking my place in that rest home by the sea…where I had the opportunity to assume the identity of Napoleon..and strut around..hand in coat-pocket, declaring ‘Not tonight Josephine’ over and over.  So I considered my predicament. I’d reached the age of 28 years and I had a string of non-successes hanging around my neck..like a conglomerate dog after a blood-stained bone…but this bone had no marrow. I knew that someday soon one of my canine pursuers would bury me in life’s garden..and not return to disinter me…too disinteresting you see.  I hoped that one day I could make one of these dogs my best friend..which incidentally should be easy…because they wag their tails whereas we wag our tongues.
   
   (that's one of mine btw)

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3. 62

   calpol25posted 13 years ago

   My Valentines Poem
   
   I buy Chocolates for you,
   I grow Tulips for you.
   I give Kisses to you,
   I have loving for you. 
   
   I am caring for you,
   I am sharing with you.
   I get closer to you,
   I grow older with you.
   
   But the one thing I want, which will just have to do.
   Is signed and sealed letter with DIVORCE from you.
   
   By Calpol25

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   1. 0

      Home Girlposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      It's sad, don't you think?

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      1. 85

         Mekenzieposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         Very, yes indeed .. unexpected ending there Calpol25

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      2. 62

         calpol25posted 13 years agoin reply to this

         yeah a tad sad but gets the point across lol ROFL

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   2. 58

      pkesolsposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      nice

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4. 85

   Mekenzieposted 13 years ago

   I do not consider myself a poet.  There have only been two times I have felt compelled to write poetry.  This poem is included in a very personal hub I wrote about my son:
   
   My Son His Son
   
   the first glimpse of you
   
   heart awakened
   
   tremulous waves
   
   through and through
   
   a mother to this child
   
   Is it true?
   
   ♥
   
   My precious boy
   
   an adventure
   
   a love so new
   
   dark curly hair
   
   white chubby cheeks
   
   tender and fair
   
   I gaze into BIG pools of chocolate
   
   and get lost
   
   are you really mine little man?
   
   my heart held captive
   
   by you
   
   I am
   
   your biggest fan
   
   ♥
   
   a toddler uncovers
   
   the person in you
   
   face covered in smiles
   
   eyes dancing too
   
   tiny sounds of music and laughter
   
   will you love me forever
   
   never say never
   
   ♥
   
   you were mine for many years
   
   sharing love, laughter
   
   a multitude of tears
   
   you got lost
   
   as manhood geared
   
   confused and searching
   
   spiraling far away
   
   from me.
   
   I died inside
   
   It didn’t seem fair
   
   God broke through
   
   with his care
   
   took the weight
   
   on His shoulders
   
   to bear
   
   ♥
   
   you were mine for a time
   
   HIS for All Time
   
   All grown up now
   
   My Son His Son
   
   and me?
   
   I still get lost in your eyes
   
   To stare and adore
   
   from the shore
   
   a very strong man
   
   to the very core.
   
   Copywrite 2010

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5. 71

   Shanna11posted 13 years ago

   
   
   I have a thing for refrigerator magnet poetry. It always turns out hipster-esque, and therefore it's classified as crappy poetry.
   
   Oh, the joys of refrigerator magnets.

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6. 60

   couturepopcafeposted 13 years ago

   26
   
   after life
   
   the sky drew it's darkened clouds about
   the earth grew dim as the cries rang out
   “I've lost him,” was her angry shout
   to the moon and the stars and the world without
   
   “oh! sing me a song my firey maid!”
   but the world of death was a barricade
   he reached across the vale of gloom
   to search her face in the teary room
   
   he sought her eyes and he found them there
   “remember this my maiden fair
   the world below is a world of grief
   and death has brought me sweet relief
   
   death is not a painful thing
   it's relief from pain only dying can bring"

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   1. 0

      womanatthewellposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      love this!

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7. 0

   womanatthewellposted 13 years ago

   "ER"
   
   It's three in the morning
   
   and I have no gun
   
   to protect myself from the demons,
   
   that only come around at 3am.
   
   My arm throbs in morse code, S.O.S.
   
   
   
   It's three in the morning
   
   and I have no peace
   
   to shine a light through the darkness,
   
   to find my bed, to sleep again.
   
   My arm throbs in morse code S.OS
   
   
   
   It's three in the morning
   
   and I have no clothes
   
   to protect my body
   
   from the blistering cold I feel,
   
   standing outside your love.
   
   My arm throbs in morse code, s.o.s
   
   
   
   
   
   It's three am, and I needed to write
   
   hoping to purge myself
   
   of all this you
   
   that only comes at three AM,
   
   when I am alone,
   
   When I cannot sleep;
   
   from the pain that spreads
   
   throughout my being.
   
   Fear grips me by the arm, and
   
   whispers, "The night is young,
   
   It's only three."
   
   
   
   .

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8. 67

   savanahlposted 13 years ago

   How sweet it is, your soul, I see
   
   With eyes that pierce with silenced pain
   
   of past long gone, mere memories
   
   
   
   Yet softness still, your touch remains
   
   Eyes pure and warm like silken rain
   
   Slips through my soul without a peep
   
   Like midnight grounds dancing with thieves
   
   
   
   Now sadness falls across my face
   
   A tear slips by then starts to rain
   
   My soul entwines around your pain
   
   
   
   My life I'd give to take away
   
   The scars of life that took its toll
   
   And caused the pain your heart endures
   
   
   
   With every breath my body takes
   
   With every drop of blood in vein
   
   I'll take your pain, consume it whole
   
   Release your heart, unbind the chains
   
   To free the love inside your soul
   
   
   
   So here I lay, my love partakes
   
   All that you are...........All pain erased

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   1. 85

      Mekenzieposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      Very Beautiful ..

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      1. 78

         snigdha.sposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         When you need me
         I will be there for you
         When you leave me
         I will still be there for you
         
         Heart bleeds to think of you with someone else
         Heart needs to accept that you belong to someone else
         
         Don't  ask me to remember the good times we spent together
         They were not good enough else we'd be still together
         
         Let me share your world
         becoz' I am not your world
         Truth hurts but am ready to accept
         Love you more is what I can do best
         
         Wait is beautiful for someone you love
         Love becomes torture when you waited long enough.

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