| | Post Your Poems! | |
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Author | Message |
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CigarKen

Age : 52 Location : Ellenwood, Georgia Registration date : 2012-11-28
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Thu Jan 10, 2013 8:17 pm | |
| - s.ireland wrote:
- CigarKen wrote:
- Second Chance
Sting my flesh O winter air and show my breath in subtle light while a lonely train speaks afar the pines above me weep
With a gentle breeze comes the scent of rain, dusty sweet stirring thoughts of him a young man whom I have slain
I've no remorse in what I've done for he could never be the man I am I live to tell that he is no more though I once was he who is dead
Ken Graybill
No need for me to wax poetic (ha!), but this one really stands out, to me. Well done! 
I'm really enjoying these, keep them coming, gentlemen!
Thank you Sir. That is one of my favorites |
|  | | alfredo_buscatti

Age : 64 Location : Piedmont, North Carolina Registration date : 2007-12-17
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Mon Jan 21, 2013 8:31 am | |
| Hi Shane,
I do like the poem; hope you don't mind the deconstruct:
At last! The rain has come. $$ Echoed statement -> good structure
I have heard the Cold are on the move, $$ We understand something is amiss I have watched the Wolf accost the moon $$ the wolf traditionally a menace; this aggression? turned toward our most familiar celestial body, but to what purpose? This remains undeveloped and serves more for atmosphere than otherwise.
And even in your deepest sleep, Those filthy dreams (c'est magnifique!), $$ Sleep as a haven yet stimulated by sex, which you laud; ambivalence to what end? I can sense you speaking sweetly To something just beyond your reach-- $$ "speaking sweetly" cliche as is "just beyond your reach" $$ still saying that she (lover?) speaks becomingly to that which she can't grasp is a nice idea. Better if you metaphorized the unreachable.
And every time you lose control, $$ lose control metaphorized. In general much better to show than tell. Rhetoric/figurative language are what makes the poem dance. Your voice is captured (by the Cold) $$ to say the a voice is captured by the cold is good; but to say that her voice is snowbound is better. It allows us to see voice marooned in a house surrounded by cold But I cannot run to save you-- $$ cannot run to save you with legs stiffened by the cold I'm not the one you're calling out to
I have watched the Cold, run off in shame I have heard the Wolf pack howl your name
At last! The rain has gone. $$ mixed metaphor, cold and rain. The line as is is fine except that with two references to the cold it would better serve to act structurally.
Overall I like the poem for its images and unanswered, suggestive questions.
In my mind we venerate Shakespeare not for his plots but for his language. It can be staggering to witness how long he sustains figurative speech. When you grow accustomed to it, you can literally speak in metaphor. You take a thing and work whatever aspect of it that is applicable to the sense of the line in question.
Last edited by alfredo_buscatti on Mon Jan 21, 2013 9:08 am; edited 1 time in total |
|  | | TrevorLeMayRambles
Location : Lakewood, CO Registration date : 2013-01-28
 | Subject: Poetry... You got it! Tue Jan 29, 2013 1:38 am | |
| The Tallest Tree
A tall standing oak Appearing in majesty The appearance of life abundant But there is a cancer Deep beneath its mighty boughs Rotting inside its marble bark
Where it stands Once there was a field Flowers drank freely from the ground But the oak stole all the water Now all under its shadow is desolate
In all its glory Its roots where not deep And when a storm starts rising Its branches will moan with the wind
What pride can it stand in? What truth lives amongst its green leaves? Slave to its growth, but without foundations Its greed never held nutrition
The tree will fall in the forest And everyone will be around to hear it The nations will weep when the east winds prevail
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|  | | Guest Guest
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Wed Feb 20, 2013 7:22 pm | |
| This one concerns the refusal of the US archaeological establishment to acknowledge artifacts found by "non-professionals," no matter how significant. ( To the tune of "The Wabash Cannonball") Back East in Kentucky there's a bunch of stuff been found By folks that walk around there with their eyes upon the ground On river banks, construction sites and anywhere it's ploughed But Archies can't acknowledge these because it's not allowed. In the ivory tower in the city on the hill You'd think they'd be receptive there, but boy -- if looks could kill ! Their noses flare, their eyes get big and every voice grows loud : "We do not publish stuff like that because we're not allowed !" "Those things were found by Vandals, who loot antiquities. All you need to know is that they don't have PhDs. Better that the record should ignore their grubby finds Than looted stuff from trailer trash contaminate our minds. "If we had our way we would consign them all to hell At least that way there couldn't be a different tale to tell. Scholarly consensus is the summum bonum here And anything that rocks the boat can simply disappear. "Like the blades the Folsom folks that lived at Shifting Sands Left behind for Dick to find and hold in heathen hands No deflated sites allowed -- there's no stratigraphy ! Nothing's more irrelevant than probability ! "Even though we're well esconced behind the JSTOR wall Where common avocationals are not allowed at all We cannot be too careful to preserve our purity As the moral guardians of archaeology. "So listen up, you heathen, it's a contest our side 'wins' (Oh, by the way -- donating them absolves you of your sins ! But even then we will not deign to 'feature' them in print. Because the act of doing so might give your kind some hint). "So take your damned Levallois stuff back home with you and weep Consigned to purgatory where the outer darkness deep Enfolds them like a burial shroud in deep obscurity Until the passing years efface their very memory."  |
|  | | CigarKen

Age : 52 Location : Ellenwood, Georgia Registration date : 2012-11-28
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Wed Feb 20, 2013 10:34 pm | |
| Darkened Hour
In a darkened hour I think on times of old in a drunken haze of them I've been told I recall not the tales of my friends in some I should've met my end In my youth, an adventurous soul bold and brave without any goal I spilled a tear not of my own now i weep for the evil seeds I've sown In the heart of me I know it was the wine for the times I've been told are not of mine on bended knee I prayed my Lord rested assured I'd not been ignored to fulfill the prophesy He was born and took my pain, His flesh was torn "For you" He said "I do this now" "your home in Heaven My Father will allow.
Ken Graybill |
|  | | PipedJimmy

Age : 33 Location : London, England Registration date : 2009-02-10
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Thu Apr 11, 2013 9:57 am | |
| Oh Master of the Admiralty, let your good ships go, head only for the shore now, end this moving to and fro. Declare your amicable intentions unto the solid ground, and try not to let your heart sink when it’s dry land you have found. Your freedom taken from you? The end of liberty? How uncharitable the land is when compared to the endless sea. No white waves here are foaming, with new shores on their minds, nor is the sacred truth believed in, that providence is blind. A man's sacred dominion, finds root in just one place, what then could I offer you, for that thing you can't replace? Freedom is illusory, whether water born or founded, and time’s passing ceaselessly, leaves every man dumbfounded. So cast off your medals now and join the common man, those souls who have been suffering, since time's cruel reign began. You showed us by example just what a man may be, but you fooled even yourself, in believing you were free.
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|  | | camky
Registration date : 2013-05-14
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Sat May 18, 2013 1:44 pm | |
| Life is so strange Nothing stays the same Everything change But who to blame
Life is like a game Where you have to lose Before you can gain To win you have to face the fearful rain
In Life.. They always say Don't use your heart Only use your brain |
|  | | Guest Guest
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Sat May 18, 2013 2:06 pm | |
| And on a lighter note...
There is a pit in every man of avarice and greed And many a man has fell therein because of shallow need
Good righteous gentle honest men have in this pitfall fell and out of it each one has made his own tormented hell
It had a different name but I have renamed it to Washington |
|  | | Irene Adler That Woman

Age : 31 Location : Berkeley, California Registration date : 2008-11-25
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Wed Jul 17, 2013 8:32 pm | |
| I really love all of these! You're such a talented lot!
I don't share much in the way of poetry, but here's a go:
Earl Grey your tea grew cold before final words were uttered muttered mumbled
so many chances to indulge slipped unnoticed silent in the spaces between vowels
but gazes fixated on anything separate disjointed apart
i could not look at you |
|  | | Harlock999

Location : Los Angeles Registration date : 2010-10-22
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Thu Jul 18, 2013 8:26 am | |
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|  | | Idlefellow

Location : The Kansas Prairie Registration date : 2009-02-24
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Tue Jul 23, 2013 11:21 am | |
| Lots of nice work here. Here's one of mine...
Old Things
Old amber whisky from a bottle green. Hand rubbed old briar reflects an old lamp’s sheen, and soft old leather – a familiar chair. Oft-read old books piled on the table there, as old wood pops and cracks behind the screen.
Upon an old rug an old dog is seen to lay his tired old head between well-worn old slippers, waiting there for me to put them on.
In this old room, old pictures in the gleam of dancing flames can come to life: Old scenes and old friends, who gather here to share old hunts, old ghosts, old places traveled; where old memories are waiting there for me to put them on. |
|  | | Thomas Porculo
Location : Grand Rapids, MI Registration date : 2013-10-02
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Mon Oct 21, 2013 1:36 pm | |
| Haiku are really nice but sometimes they don't make sense Refrigerator |
|  | | Thomas Porculo
Location : Grand Rapids, MI Registration date : 2013-10-02
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Mon Oct 21, 2013 1:38 pm | |
| I once knew a girl from Nantucket, I forgot how it goes so I say ..... |
|  | | smg913

Age : 31 Location : New Jersey Registration date : 2013-01-27
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Tue Nov 12, 2013 10:18 pm | |
| broke down again. holding strong to support weak walls. bones are whittled. dull knife. cold blade. found what I needed. forgot. remembered. what I wanted. dreams are called such for those not willing. but to blur the line at this time would be tragic. heart pumps. consistent with living. heart pumps, now dull to feelings. your touch. decays the atoms. finger tips close. dangling around the axis I don't know if I can hold on, keeping you close. afraid of what will be revealed. I don't wish to push. |
|  | | danindayton

Location : Dayton, Oh Registration date : 2012-01-02
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Mon Apr 11, 2016 1:28 pm | |
| I'll play. Comments requested
Standing in the wind
Standing in the wind, Listening to the voices It brings. Rain, cold, dripping From my hat.
Standing in the wind, Pipe drawing well Your voice I hear Bring you closer.
Standing in the wind, Listening to the echoes, Of the past. Mind dancing with you.
Standing in the wind, Smelling the sea breeze That’s not there Mind talking with you.
Standing in the wind, Pipe smoke Wind shredded You voice I hear, Warming my soul
Standing in the wind, Rain, cold, down My neck, Wakes me from my reverie.
Standing in the wind, Rain, cold, dripping From my hat. Another day ends.
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|  | | danindayton

Location : Dayton, Oh Registration date : 2012-01-02
 | Subject: Re: Post Your Poems! Mon Apr 11, 2016 1:31 pm | |
| Another one, if I may. Comments requested.
I am the voice
I am the voice That whispers to you In the night.
I am the voice That calls you, Back to the sea
I am the voice That nuzzles you hair When there is no breeze.
I am the voice That speaks to you, In a child’s smile.
I am the voice that shouts to you, In the sunlight.
I am the voice That you hear in the surf,
I am the voice That whispers When aspen flutter In the mountain breeze.
I am the voice that loves you, From afar.
Yes, I am that, voice |
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