|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 2, 2007 9:25:46 GMT -6
Time never waits for us....
The older we get
the quicker it moves....
Ironic, huh?
When I was young
I never thought
I would turn 21,
now I am older,
and I do not remember
anything special
about that year
in my life....
But I remember
every single day
flying by me now.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 3, 2007 18:43:43 GMT -6
flying by me now...
the thought of how
did that brown cow
jump over the moon?
for if I can figure
the logistics of that jump out...
I can bend space and time
like I try to bend and bust a ryhme...
and leap across the ocean with very little motion...
and scare the bejeebers out of a chap
in merry, old England suddenly
making an appearance
in his livingroom
right in the middle
of him watching
'Twenty-Four'...
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 7, 2007 10:25:53 GMT -6
Twenty-Four....ah....
that was a good year.
Until the next one came....
Twenty five!!
Man! I was alive then...
Juggling my men....
and bouncing around...
like I owned every man
in my town,
and I did,
for a season.
Now, I am alone,
turned to stone
by too many lies,
and too much rejection
brought on by too much
loss of respect
and too little affection.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 12, 2007 10:11:58 GMT -6
Affection is for children,
old folks, and animals.
We reach an age
when all we see
around us are greed,
deceit, and treachery...
Sometimes it takes
its toll on us,
and sometimes not.
Sometimes in the
far recesses of our mind
we hear the innocence
of a baby's cry,
or hear the purr
of a kitten's smile,
or see in the eyes
of the elderly,
the hidden secrets
of the universe....
and stand in awe,
wondering and still
just a child at heart.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by roadrunner3 on Nov 13, 2007 9:24:54 GMT -6
Beautiful sentiment, Sam,
and this certainly rings true in my life.
I think maybe we both have reached
that "certain age".
RR3
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 15, 2007 15:30:59 GMT -6
What "certain age"?  Really? Seriously? What age? Love, Sam  |
|
|
|
Post by roadrunner3 on Nov 15, 2007 17:18:42 GMT -6
OOPS! Did I say "age"? I meant "stage". Certain STAGE in life. Really, this could be at any age. In fact, Sam, you could be in your 20's, although that would seem rather young for someone who has spoken of grandchildren! (but possibly you could ADOPT some grandchildren). But seriously, your poem said it beautifully. Being somewhat past the mid-century mark myself, I view everything with a great deal of suspicion and yet can completely melt in the presence of a child or a beautiful sunset. Dealing with financial reports is totally boring to me, but sipping coffee early in the morning and contemplating the universe...PRICELESS. (and I especially like beautiful poems and poets) |
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 16, 2007 15:31:23 GMT -6
Me, too!!!!! I enjoy your work so much!!! I love my family here!!! Makes me feel whole, again!!! Love, Sam |
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 16, 2007 22:06:32 GMT -6
I must be growing backwards, then...
As in my case, I was far more suspicious
as a younger being, than I am now...
Cynical, to beat the band...
I seemed to have grown more gullible
with each passing year, I fear...
Naive in my belief, each person
has goodness within them...
Each human is beautiful
in their own individual way...
Even those whom have served me
my own head and heart on a tray...
But, sipping coffee early in the morning
and contemplating the universe
has always been a favorite
pastime of mine...
As I've been guzzling coffee,
since I was younger than nine...
And wondering about the cosmos
it feels since the day I was born...
I look forward to doing this
til they throw my stiff carcass
into the ground and my bones
and flesh wither to worm fodder and dust
|
|
|
|
Post by roadrunner3 on Nov 17, 2007 20:53:20 GMT -6
my bones and flesh wither to worm fodder and dust, my thoughts seem to fly thither and joints fill with rust but cerebral ischemia can't dampen how dreamily your poems penned are seemingly always redeeming me and urging me on to get out of my rut and make use of the rhyme I have left in this hut. |
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 19, 2007 13:59:54 GMT -6
To get out of my rut
and make use of the rhyme
I have left in this hut,
I must look forward,
this time,
and accept the fact
everything has changed...
the old, left behind....
My future is in front of me.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 21, 2007 10:11:27 GMT -6
In front of me
comes the holidays
it is always the same
not enough money
to go around,
and too many people
waiting in lines.
Year after year
I promise myself
that next year
I will do better
in spite of myself...
But, alas,
my ship has not come in
or if it did
I was at the train station
with my head hid
in some hole, somewhere.
Nothing new......
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 21, 2007 10:20:30 GMT -6
In front of me comes the holidays it is always the same not enough money to go around, and too many people waiting in lines. Year after year I promise myself that next year I will do better in spite of myself... But, alas, my ship has not come in or if it did I was at the train station with my head hid in some hole, somewhere. Nothing new...... How about you? Sam |
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 25, 2007 12:47:06 GMT -6
You...
Incorrigable you...
Crossed a moat with your cyber boat...
Found a woman sleeping and thought
what an adventure to awaken her...
What an experience to lay your hungry mouth
upon her shapely lips...Until you leaned over her
to give her a buss and she sank her teeth into your throat...
|
|
|
|
Post by phantasm on Nov 26, 2007 11:28:49 GMT -6
right on time, coming to the right place to post my face someplace where they write poetry. Hmmm, of what shall I speak? Nocturnal activities like rummaging through the fridge or mucking around on the computer? About how I ponder the future? Oh, I know! A book I'm reading suggests that I fast on books. Hard to do! I gorge myself as I sit in my nook, absorbing stories and information. But then I neglect my precious creations. My stories sit expectantly on my computer desktop wondering why I've flopped. So now I redouble my efforts and a new companion appears beside the other older three. I swear, by not reading, I'll drive myself up a tree unless I work on my tomes more. But then, that's what a reading fast is for. So now I write poetry to relieve the brain-pangs, greedily looking at the Karamazov Brothers. But, tally ho! In creating a habit that has otherwise scampered around like a rabbit. Creativity needs time, after all. |
|
|
|
Post by phantasm on Nov 26, 2007 11:30:55 GMT -6
(Oops, somehow I missed a few poems..... hey it's been a while since I did an add-a-poem. Carry on.)
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 26, 2007 20:45:57 GMT -6
hehehello, Phant...no problemo...we don't spit and roast poets for such as this...
guess you landed on one of the other pages, huh? we've done that, too...
besides, what you left was great...and the last line, so true...
spoken like a poet..."Creativity needs time, after all." Nir.
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 27, 2007 11:03:56 GMT -6
Creativity needs time, after all...
Sometimes, getting into the zone
feels like wardrobing oneself for a ball...
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Nov 27, 2007 16:13:39 GMT -6
getting into the zone feels like wardrobing oneself for a ball gazing into the mirror hanging on the wall and not recognizing the person looking back at you... Funny....isn't it, what imagination can do!!! Sam |
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Nov 29, 2007 19:20:06 GMT -6
Imagination can do
the strangest things
to one's common sense...
At best, it can lead one
on a frenzied dance
of poeming or prosing
inspired by nothing
more than the sun
in one's eyes
or an offhand glance
from a stranger...
At worst, imagination
can cause one to see
things that aren't there...
To fantasize about
things that can
never be...
Therefore,
imagination
can drive us
to the brink of pain
and make us crazy...
But, I guess crazy
is better than lazy...
|
|
|
|
Post by phantasm on Nov 30, 2007 2:07:13 GMT -6
But, I guess crazy is better than lazy
or skipping around picking daisies.
They say going sane feels just like going crazy
so is crazy sane or is sanity insanity?
Does it make sense to listen to Sean Hannity?
Or should we live our lives like nothing was wrong?
Should I stand on the street corner and burst into song
like I'm living in a Broadway play? Who's to say what's normal
and what's not? Are we all really just regular, even folks
or are we all really just suppressed? Is it about something we in our society have forgot? Is it our life and our lot to just go to work and shop?
An abysmal life this is, if that is all there is.
A person can go crazy with nothing to live for.
Or does that just make him extremely bored?
Art has to do its part and create some sort of meaning
for all our lives. A world stripped of beauty would go totally nuts
and deserves whatever it gets- meaninglessness.
So would you rather be sane or insane today?
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Dec 3, 2007 23:51:23 GMT -6
Sane or insane, today?
Wear the straightjacket,
or leave it hanging in the closet?
Smile like a loon or grimace?
Put on a happy face
or wear a frown in it's place?
Act like I feel great?
Or contemplate
why I don't feel great?
It's late...
Wipe the slate...
Start over, without abate...
*ggglgggl...dame pulling up lame, again*
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Dec 4, 2007 10:42:37 GMT -6
Start over,
without abate...
But far away from
this thing called hate.
If only for a while,
let me rejoice
in the moment
and once again-smile.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Dec 5, 2007 20:18:30 GMT -6
*beautiful, Sharon, beautiful*
|
|
|
|
Post by phantasm on Dec 7, 2007 15:01:41 GMT -6
To once again smile,
is what I'd like to do, perpetually.
I'd like to get there eventually
like the place from whence I came in childhood,
or so I would like to believe
instead of grieving how my soul was once mistreated.
I'd like to smile genuinely as I go about my business
Even though the person I get rides from tries to shoot me down
by saying, "You talk softly to yourself when you do that. People are going to think you're a loon." And so I say sorry to her and repress my occasional joy, even if just a little, just to satisfy her before we go our separate ways.
Why is it normal to be miserable?
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Dec 7, 2007 21:05:13 GMT -6
Normal to be miserable?
Or, miserable because we are normal?
Miserability, seems to go hand in hand
with the condition of being born human...
It's all part and parcel of living...
Breathing...Being...Beingness...
The trick is to accept we were mistreated...
Grieve, even rant and rave about it...
Then, let it go...Just...let...it...go...
Give our grief permission to leave us...
To be nothing more than tracks in the dust...
Not...in...front...but...Be...hind...us...
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Dec 18, 2007 13:05:25 GMT -6
Give our grief
permission to leave us...
To be nothing more
than tracks in the dust...
Not...in...front...
but...be...hind...us...
would be a dream!
What a cold shot of reality
when it slams you
right back in the face.
I have come to hate this place
I see decay and disease
all over everyone's face....
Was it only yesterday?
Seems a million miles away....
I have faced you
and faced you...
like a ballerina
turning on a pedestal
at your feet
and still my heart
can not, or will not heal,
and I, even now,
admit my own defeat.....
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Dec 20, 2007 10:02:17 GMT -6
I, even now,
admit my own defeat.....
Sometimes things
just can't be explained...
One minute you are fine,
the next...insane..
Sometimes the brain
just ups and leaves
and the heart
just goes back
and takes over,
feeding the soul
what it feels it needs
to simply survive.
Sam
|
|
|
|
Post by Sam on Jan 3, 2008 13:16:33 GMT -6
(Why has no one added to the add-a-poem?) To simply survive is not enough for me. I must go and find my own destiny... As you, too, must do. Sam |
|
|
|
Post by phantasm on Jan 3, 2008 14:10:06 GMT -6
You, too, must do something loony in this coming year.
At this time everybody drinks lots of beer and other alcoholic spirits.
So get your butt in gear. Glue someone's face to the living room floor
or put a rubber snake in their breakfast cereal box. Bob for apples in a vat of beer. Hang a deer's head on the wall with a gun in it's mouth. Do something to outfox your brother or your neighbor. Remember your days in the frat house and let the good times roll! Remember, you can take a man out of the wild, but there's no taking the wild out of the man.
So go ahead, stimulate your brain pan! ;D
|
|
