Dan's Poetry Corner II


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Profile Daniel Michel
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Message 978199 - Posted: 13 Mar 2010, 15:29:18 UTC

Post poems, song lyrics and rhymes...Either your own originals or those that you admire that were written by others.
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Profile Daniel Michel
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Message 978200 - Posted: 13 Mar 2010, 15:29:52 UTC

"The Writer"

they seek peace
said the writer
to no one i could see
i am bound
to seek knowledge
no hero stuff for me

and i await the dream that the writer said
would come to my rescue
ships of silver
ships of light
with a semi-solid crew

and shine down to me from the stars
come the angels from space
bring me up to your world
leave a question in my place
take me over where you go
let me be there so i know
it's true
what the writer knew

they want love
said the writer
it is that they do not know
what we have
has been denied them
that's what made them go

and i await the dream that the writer said
would come to my rescue
ships of silver
ships of light
with a semi-solid crew

and shine down to me from the stars
come the angels from space
bring me up to your world
leave a question in my place
take me over where you go
let me be there so i know
it's true
what the writer knew

(db michel)
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Message 978297 - Posted: 13 Mar 2010, 19:01:44 UTC

I'm not a poet, but I just wanted to say that I have enjoyed reading this thread in the past and I am happy to see that it is back.

Fondly,
Angela

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Message 978465 - Posted: 14 Mar 2010, 3:32:27 UTC

Roses are red
Asphalt is black
Well looky there
Ol' Dan is back.


Profile Daniel Michel
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Message 978859 - Posted: 15 Mar 2010, 3:30:03 UTC

"Empty Is My World (Without You)"

empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you
empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you

somewhere in the stars
way out there past mars
there's a beacon in the sky
and it's callin'
sends it's best to you
all it says is true
when the time is right
they'll be comin'

empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you
empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you

tell it to your soul
the part of you that knows
that the voices in the sky
have been callin'
something we don't know
in the distant shadow glows
we are in their sights
they've been watchin'

empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you
empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you

(bridge)
in the silence of the night
when they reach out
gonna feel it in your bones
getting closer every day
without a doubt
hope is movin' in
will we be foe or friend?

empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you
empty is my world...
empty is my world
empty is my world
without you

(2008 db michel)

Btw...For those who may be curious...This was written as a take on what a friendly message from an extra-terrestrial intelligence might be if decoded...And human reflection on what such an experience might be like...The friendly and rather lonely alien message...Empty is my world...without you...
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Message 978900 - Posted: 15 Mar 2010, 7:52:35 UTC

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

It's sad, so sad
It's a sad, sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad, so sad
Why can't we talk it over
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word

Music: Elton John
Lyrics: Bernie Taupin

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Message 978967 - Posted: 15 Mar 2010, 13:55:49 UTC

Welcome.
Compressed air sounds
like blessedness
Holy engine!
vs. my unclean
emissions.
Without a hitch.
Sounds like full-out hatred
to me.

It is missing


(tried my best to translate out of Dutch)
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Message 979090 - Posted: 15 Mar 2010, 19:04:04 UTC
Last modified: 15 Mar 2010, 19:11:49 UTC

Wild Irish Rose

Songwriter: Bobby Braddock

They sent him to Asia to fight in a war
He came back home crazy and asking what for?
They had him committed, gold medals and all
To a mental hospital with rubber walls.

They cut off the funding, they cut off the lights
He hit the street runnin' that cold winter night
Now the streets are the only place he can call home
He seems oh so lonely, but he's never alone.

He lies there holding his Wild Irish Rose
This crazy old fool in the smelly old clothes
He could have had something much better, God knows
Than a half-empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose.

A baby named Scarlet with laughing blue eyes
Has been in his wallet, way back since '65
So much was forgotten, so far back in time
Way down in the bottom of a river of wine.

You know, they found him at Clark Street and West 25th
They can't even find a heartbeat, Lord, his fingers are stiff
Just like they're all frozen, he's holding her tight
But the habit, oh, it's broken, this is Roses' last night.

He lies there holding his Wild Irish Rose
But his soul's in a place where a real hero goes
Now he's got something better, much better, God knows
Than a half-empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose.

Music Video - performed by George Jones

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Message 979897 - Posted: 17 Mar 2010, 11:28:21 UTC
Last modified: 17 Mar 2010, 11:28:41 UTC

"Is There Someone Calling"

it is said that you must come back home
before you can leave again
it is said you must offer your hand
before you know foe from friend
i've lived my life an enigma
even to myself
God knows i'm hard to understand
for anybody else

and the sweeping vision of the stars out there
has always caught my mind
may i finally find a friend out there?
when on Earth they're hard to find
are there living secrets?
in those little points of light?
is there someone calling?
that can't be seen by eyes

(2010 db michel)

This is unfinished...I was having a lonely, dreary morning and i just felt closer to the stars than i do to anyone else.
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Message 980259 - Posted: 17 Mar 2010, 22:22:43 UTC

I always did like this thread, but the poems I post seem to be ignored most of the time. Oh well, I'm not in it for the fame.

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Message 980265 - Posted: 17 Mar 2010, 22:49:35 UTC

Life is calm
It is your face, O sister dear,
At happiness scarce smiling here,
Life is your face, dear sister,
So calm;
As life is and your happiness,
Your face is cloudless, calm, and passionless.


Even the river hushes
Between its banks, among its rushes;
One by one fall flowers;
Silent, gentle eventide,
Life is calm where waters glide;
By waters where the happiness that lies
Smiling, sister, in the tender flashing of your eyes,
Is wondering at the waters, and the evenings, and
the hours

(translated out of Dutch)
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Message 980316 - Posted: 18 Mar 2010, 1:00:46 UTC

That's nice Julie
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Message 980463 - Posted: 18 Mar 2010, 11:36:49 UTC

I agree...Wonderful, Julie!
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Message 980549 - Posted: 18 Mar 2010, 16:39:28 UTC

To look at me, a grizzeld, weary, worn man, you see.
But gaze into my eyes you'd see, A playfull man filled with glee.
Yes at times a tear or two, But many laughs Id share with you.
The joys of days past are many abound, But the joys of future are still to be found.
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Message 980851 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 10:04:42 UTC

Thanx John and Daniel:)
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Message 980853 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 10:21:24 UTC


I like it too.

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Message 980981 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 16:17:58 UTC

Insomniac ~ Sylvia Plath

The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.

Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.

He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue ---
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.

His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.

Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
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Message 981202 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 21:32:54 UTC

and when the time came,he stood at the gate

the angels by his side

the truth in his heart,the feeling of fate

but a moment filled with pride

the days,the weeks,the years rolled by

for everyone to see

a lifetime it seemed of sweat and toil

not exempt from misery

but mistakes had been made,wrongs been done

words spoken in haste

the truth was now out,here stands just a man

another who could be deemed just a waste

fear not said the voice,open your heart

step forward, come unto me,

for yours was a path,that many have led

you followed your destiny

the love that you gave,the smiles that you brought

these actions sealed your fate

for inside every man,learned not taught

is forgiveness, the key to the gate

THE RECKONING by DAVID ALEXANDER GRANT 19/03/2009
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Message 981231 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 22:03:03 UTC - in response to Message 981202.

should read....... The Reckoning by David Alexander Grant 19/03/2010
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Message 981241 - Posted: 19 Mar 2010, 22:10:54 UTC

Far Away, Far, Far, Away
I am Far away.
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