DAN'S POETRY CORNER III

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Message 1399472 - Posted: 6 Aug 2013, 11:18:40 UTC



Atlast...a new face, atlast some new words...

Atlast...a new maze, welcome to the poetic flock of birds...

Atlast...

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Message 1399488 - Posted: 6 Aug 2013, 12:04:34 UTC
Last modified: 6 Aug 2013, 12:05:15 UTC

Distance

distance, it’s all I can think of
unpaved roads of twisted dreams
dark ways caused by cloudy love
my puzzled voice only screams

the shallow pool completely empty
all hart-warming thoughts have left
while he is still driving me crazy
my common soul not a moment at rest

in the process of shattering that lovable ember
the constant search for a soothing balance
none of this, soon nor ever
just.. present me a new challenge..

JD (2013)
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Message 1400535 - Posted: 8 Aug 2013, 9:59:13 UTC



HOPE


When the world says "give up",

Hope whispers "try it one more time"...

Cause to get tired is natural,

But to quit is a crime...

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Message 1400934 - Posted: 9 Aug 2013, 6:50:19 UTC


UGLY...

Life is a reality, welcome to the real zone...

If you choose the lost path, no point to cry n moan...

Good n bad go hand in hand, like ice cream n the cone...

While beauty is just skin deep, Ugly goes straight till the bone...

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Message 1401548 - Posted: 10 Aug 2013, 18:54:37 UTC


PAIN...

To reach a great height a person needs to have great depth...

Promises are meant to be broken, as much as they are meant to be kept...

Those who enjoy Pain, did never sorrowfully wept...

Pain n pleasure two sides of a coin, better that you accept...

Nobody will ever be eternally happy, and so far no one yet...

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Message 1401646 - Posted: 11 Aug 2013, 1:49:00 UTC

Permit a response to Post-Modernism:


Kaleidoscope


"Do you like the present paradigm,
my dear?"

"You don't?"

"It's been a while since the kaleidoscope has
been turned."

"Why don't you rotate it?"

"The direction really
doesn't matter, you know."

"Do you like the new pattern?"

"We'll not move it, then,
until it becomes mundane."

* * *

j. r. martin
10 August 2013

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Message 1401667 - Posted: 11 Aug 2013, 3:34:25 UTC

It is dark now:
My heart sees like my eyes:
Luminous.
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Message 1403070 - Posted: 14 Aug 2013, 13:38:54 UTC

Freedom of speech

Freedom of speech
Our only freedom left
The freedom to speak our minds
The freedom to speak out against our leaders
The freedom to say what we want

But wait...
We don't say what we want
We censor ourselves
How can we speak
without knowing the words?
How can we talk
without speaking our minds?

Afraid of society
Censorship isn't done by our leaders
We do it ourselves

What if we would stand up
when the government censors us
What if we would stand up
when our freedom depends on it
What if we would stand up
when our hearts tell us to

Why don't we do it right now?

JD(2013)


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Message 1406018 - Posted: 21 Aug 2013, 16:12:34 UTC

Memories, of Bio. lab. . .


Bugs R Us

The sound of flies
made quite a din.

For their demise:
Sweet formalin.

* * *

j. r. martin
21 August 2013

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Message 1408507 - Posted: 27 Aug 2013, 21:46:03 UTC - in response to Message 1390533.  

A Museum Discovery


She was sitting, alone.
Old scenes, on the walls.

A tear left her eye,
Which captured, my heart.

To not break the silence,
I penned my concern.

On bench, she leaned sideways,
Took notepad, from me.

We gently engaged
In a shared history.

Our movements, were one,
As we spoke, soundlessly.

The ultimate disclosure --
Her muteness, to me.

* * *

j. r. martin
13 July 2013



Beautiful, Jim!

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Message 1408588 - Posted: 28 Aug 2013, 1:20:55 UTC

Tears of Glass


Ten thousand suns turned sand to glass.
Creation's end,
a nation's last.

It's children, men --
their tears, of glass.

A world, gone numb.
Reprieve, at last.


* * *

j. r. martin
17 August 2013

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Message 1409024 - Posted: 28 Aug 2013, 21:48:11 UTC


IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE!


Thought it was a poets graveyard,
But thee Corner has started to rock hard...

Seldom found ghostly traces of the past,
But finally many beating hearts at last...

Although pain n memories seem to be the flavors of the house,
Lately I am pretty fed up playing the cat n mouse...

A flock of birds, Pride of lions, A Wolf Pack,
All ye fine poetic souls, Welcome Back!

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Message 1409220 - Posted: 29 Aug 2013, 7:33:56 UTC

Words

Why are words so beautiful to write?
They can turn our mood from dark into light.

Why can words touch our heart?
They make us glow or tear us apart.

What makes us choose word combinations?
Creating a meaning, or certain sensations.

What makes us understand the words we write?
Our individual interpretation of words in a flight.

Interpretation and association of words in a chain.
Our treasure of creativity, our precious brain.

JD (2013)
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Message 1409422 - Posted: 29 Aug 2013, 17:26:58 UTC

True, Julie.

Perhaps, to create is to pluck the fabric of the universe.

Resonances. . .
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Message 1410232 - Posted: 31 Aug 2013, 19:33:31 UTC

Sports Event


The game concluded, and
the fans swarmed onto the field.

The problem:

How to get them off the field,
in order


to play the next game.


* * *

j. r. martin
31 August 2013
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Message 1410292 - Posted: 31 Aug 2013, 23:00:42 UTC


GRANDPAA

Many, many years ago,
when I was twenty-three...
I got married to a widow,
who was as pretty as one could be...

This widow had a grown-up daughter,
who had her hair of red...
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed...

This made my dad my son-in-law,
and changed my very life...
My daughter was now my mother,
for she was my father's wife...

To complicate the matter further,
although it brought me joy...
I soon became the proud father,
of a bouncing little baby boy...

My little baby ultimately became,
a brother-in-law to my dad...
And so he became my uncle,
thus it made me very sad...

For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother...
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother...

Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the chase and run...
And so simply he became my grandson,
for he was my red hair daughter's son...

My wife is now my mother's mother,
and it makes me really go blue...
Because, although she is my pretty wife,
but she's my grandma too...

If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild...
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild...

For now I have surely become,
the strangest case you ever saw...
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa...!


(source of inspiration - copycat pasterat)
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Message 1410642 - Posted: 2 Sep 2013, 3:50:49 UTC

"Serenity"

i hear you singing
cross my heart
i feel you dreaming
i'm torn apart

teach me from the distance
touch my heart
even as i'm sinking
you take my part

tell me your reason
make me smile
i'll be here waiting
like a child


(2006 db michel)


PROUD TO BE TFFE!
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Message 1411036 - Posted: 3 Sep 2013, 13:05:21 UTC
Last modified: 3 Sep 2013, 13:05:41 UTC

My mind

with transparancy i decline even myself,
a light so bright, it hurts my core.
my life, a beautiful composition of colours....
but still ice cold beneath the surface,
i dance to the beat of life,
stumble, get up again, fall, get up again.
passionate and bewildered i see what lies ahead.
this road of questionable deniability,
for what i don't know i can't account for.

with stride i choose my path,
i look up, darkness covers me.
i favour the welcoming light,
but fear to dance in the light of truth.
with good conciousness i lied,
tied the ones i loved and danced to my beat.
no truth can unfold the lies i've seen,
no lie can set me free.

while sitting here and pondering my choices,
i search deep within myself to find any cause.
dreams come while wide awake,
but sleepless in my dreams they take me away.
this unrelenting pounding within,
it's killing me, torturing me.
can i coexist with light and shadow?

JD (2013)
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Message 1411330 - Posted: 4 Sep 2013, 10:17:08 UTC



KILLER...

There's been a murder a woman was killed,
found in a bathtub partially filled....

A pair of policemen went into the house,
and questioned the poor woman's spouse....

He'd just come home from working all night,
and found her like that a terrible sight....

The younger policeman looked on with dismay,
He'd never forget that terrible day...

He saw the young woman from behind the door,
and empty milk cartons all over the floor...

Scattered strawberries slices of fruit,
and spoon full of sugar and honey to boot...

Who could have done this terrible thing,
His voice had a horrified pitiful ring...

Just look at the clues replied Sargent Miller,
It looks like the work of a cereal killer...

(Inspiration - CopyCat PasteRat)
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Message 1411585 - Posted: 5 Sep 2013, 1:08:14 UTC

The 100th Post


The 100th post, and,
what does it mean?

A chance to win fame,
or, just let of steam?

The 100th post, and,
were might it lead?

to fresh views of life,
or, custom, to heed?

The 100th post, but,
with no end in sight?

View hand-prints, on caves,
for perspective, set right.

The future casts shadows,
from poetry's light.

* * *

j. r. martin
4 September 2013
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