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Archive through October 26, 2004

The TVClubHouse: General Discussions ARCHIVES: 2004 Nov. - 2005 Jan.: Free Expression... (ARCHIVES): Poetry (ARCHIVES): Archive through October 26, 2004 users admin

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Gidget
Member

07-28-2002

Sunday, October 17, 2004 - 11:52 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Wow Nino and Weinermr... some real stuff to ponder there

Nickovtyme
Member

07-29-2004

Sunday, October 17, 2004 - 3:27 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
In the still darkness
she cried in the night
chilled by the starkness
of the moons naked light

As she stood weeping
her heart ripped in twain
the moon's light came sweeping
to comfort her pain


Trembled, so slightly
she wiped at her tears
then she spoke lightly,
voicing her fears.

"Oh, Lord up in heaven
please hear my voice.
My love is leaving
and not by his choice.

I wish him to stay here
next to my side.
Please, if you're up there,
my words to you guide."

Her voice became silent
as tears again start
her emotions are torrent
she speaks in her heart.

As if to answer,
the moon then shone bright
and long did she stand there
alone in the night.

Nino
Member

09-20-2004

Sunday, October 17, 2004 - 4:26 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Thanks Nick! I loved your poem! I loved yours, too, Weiner!

Zachsmom
Moderator

07-13-2000

Sunday, October 17, 2004 - 7:41 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
I like Weinermr's poem, actually I like all of them..but I identify most with his last one. Sad, but what he wrote is so true. So very very true.

You all are very talented in writing and as a non creative writer I give you all kudos and want you to know that I (and I am sure others) enjoy them immensely!

Vee
Member

02-23-2004

Sunday, October 17, 2004 - 9:16 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
I admire all you poets so much. I am no poet, but I recognize good poetry when I see it. This is one of my favorites, appropriate for this time of year. Hope you'll indulge me!

God's World

by

Edna St.Vincent Millay


O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!

Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,—Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,—let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

This poem has very fancy positioning that does not come through in a post of this sort. My apologies.



Nickovtyme
Member

07-29-2004

Monday, October 18, 2004 - 5:21 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
I'm like the William Hung of poets...

When you have that feeling deep inside
and know not what to think.

Walk with caution and with care
before you're on the brink.

Of jumping into something bad
and find there's no way out.

Search your heart and then your mind
be sure you have no doubt.

I say this to you my good friend,
because if you are wrong...

You'll find out what you're made of
and whether you are strong.

Nino
Member

09-20-2004

Monday, October 18, 2004 - 6:03 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Nick, I just loved that last poem you posted! Excellent advice!

Mocha
Member

08-12-2001

Tuesday, October 19, 2004 - 3:08 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Weiner, so very true.

Gidget
Member

07-28-2002

Friday, October 22, 2004 - 1:20 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
you think you really know me
well i have to assume you must
because your words have judged me
cloaking your contempt and disgust

you think you have my number
know what i am all about
but did you ever really care
or take time to find out

i actually might surprise you
i have feelings too
i'm not the first nor likely last
to lose sight of a value

i hate cliches but cant resist
till you walk a day in my shoes
give me the benefit of the doubt
and i will give the same to you


Nino
Member

09-20-2004

Friday, October 22, 2004 - 9:24 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Great poem, Gidget!

Here is one I wrote over 20 years ago. I actually wrote it to a specific person, but changed his name to the word "darling". Funny how something like this can still hurt 20 years later, isn't it?

Betrayed Love

Your charm is what first drew me to you,
I desired you like no other,
And when I realized that you wanted me too,
We fell in love with one another.

The secrets you told me, the promises you made,
Brought us together as one,
Our love strengthened, the foundation was laid,
Until you said it was done.

Now you're saying it was all a charade,
That there was never love for me,
Now you're saying that the promises you made,
Could really never be.

I loved you and trusted you with all my heart,
I gave my all to you,
And you took my emotions and shredded them apart,
And now you say you're through.

The sadness I live with, the tears I cry,
Is simply all in vain,
Because whatever you felt for me came to die,
And you left me alone with the pain.

The things that you've done to me should fill me with hate,
But hate I cannot feel,
Because I'm still hoping that it's not too late,
That you'll help my hurts to heal.

Deep in my heart I know that it's through,
But I can't accept it somehow,
Life is so empty when it's not filled with you,
And it seems to have no meaning now.

Remember my darling, this love will never die,
You'll be in my heart till the end,
I'll never be able to tell you goodbye,
And my broken heart will never mend.


Karen
Member

09-07-2004

Saturday, October 23, 2004 - 9:47 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
(probably the lowest my poetry has ever gone..., I wrote this about eight years ago, when I was 17, and is probably the most personal of anything I've ever written.)

The Senses of Death
I see a masked demon escaping from my past
a flowing robe, a ghastly pale face
she envelops me in her arms, tricks me
i think she cares
murderous hands, death flashes in her eyes
and it is over
i hear the cries of those who loved me
those who never let me know they cared
until it was too late
those who conspired against me
only to save me from the pain i could not see
i smell his cologne as he kisses me goodbye
"forever wasn't long enough, my darling"
the tears as they wash over the ground below
the earth stopped cold, or was it ever moving?
i feel his icy cold hands, 'welcome to the other side',
i can't accept, i don't feel you
the pain of a million mortals burning in this heart
i taste the sweetness of the kiss of death
and the bitterness in your goodbye
i pray that you can forgive me
for i could not forgive myself if you could not
so, please, take me in your arms, i'll go gently
and for always, we can make forever last.

Jan
Member

08-01-2000

Sunday, October 24, 2004 - 7:50 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Ahh sweet youth, Karen, always bringing out pain and fear in all of us.

I have never written poetry but I came across something I did write many many many decades ago in my long ago youth:

To be me is to be
pain
dumb
mental
worry
anxious
negative
generous
buying love
sad
sad
sad tears forever
never reaching the greener side
a prisoner of me
always wanting just one more thing
for happiness – never comes

to be me is to be a pain


Gidget
Member

07-28-2002

Monday, October 25, 2004 - 11:34 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
a life on the periphery.
a life lived looking in
no genuine emotion ever felt
no way to ever win

never feeling any joy
never feeling surrender
a soul that cannot fly
a soul of a pretender

i pray today for all the lost
i pray for their release
i ask myself how can i help
i ask to share my peace


Nickovtyme
Member

07-29-2004

Monday, October 25, 2004 - 7:51 pm   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
This one I appropriately entitled Bad Mood.

I can't remember exactly why I wrote this one...

Twisted mind
heart and soul.
Freedom a dream..
Alone - Without
love.
How I despise
the hurt
which torments;
always.
Eating away from
within...
I cry out, though, unheard.
Hate burns with the
chaos of insanity..
Till every thought
equals petty
revenge.
How much longer
till it consumes me?
Then the
final step
I will
take.

Cindori
Member

07-25-2003

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:15 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Lost - David Wagoner (I've never heard of him, but I just found this poem and I really like it.)

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.



Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:18 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Nick, I like your poem!

I used to write poetry, but haven't in awhile. I am better with free verse than rhymes.

ETA: I've enjoyed all the original TVCHer poetry even if I don't always post in here. I admire all of you for sharing your own poems. :-)

Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:35 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
I like poetry, period. Birches by Frost is my favorite, although cummings is my favorite poet.

Gidget
Member

07-28-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:46 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
I dont read much poetry... why dont you post it for us hermione. i prefer the original stuff but let's face it some of these people actually made a living writing the stuff.

Karen
Member

09-07-2004

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:50 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Not sure if this is a poem or more of a prayer, but I first read it last year at my fathers' funeral. Since I'm coming up to one year now without him, I've been thinking of him a lot and this has been running through my mind endlessly. Anyone who can tell me where it's from, who wrote it? (I'm not a religious person, in the least, so please forgive my naievity if it's obvious...)


May today there be peace within you.
May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing that you are a child of God.
Let His presence settle into your heart, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, and to bask in the sun.
It is there for each and every one of us.



Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:53 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
Karen, I think it is a prayer. My mom sent it to me in an email once. I have no idea who wrote it.

Gidget, it surprises me that you do not read much poetry because you are a very talented writer of poetry. Your heartfelt emotion always shines through in your poems. I would have guessed you read poetry often. I am even more impressed than I already was! I still remember your spider poem. That was my favorite of yours.

Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:55 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
For you, Gidget, this is my favorite poem ever--

BIRCHES

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.


--Robert Frost

Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:56 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
This is my favorite part--

...So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over...


Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:57 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
and this poem by e.e. cummings is a close second.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands


Hermione69
Member

07-24-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 10:58 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
gidget, you should post that spider poem again! i loved it!

Gidget
Member

07-28-2002

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 - 11:00 am   Edit Post Move Post Delete Post View Post    
it is the personal, emotional nature of poetry that i enjoy. thus i do not enjoy reading poetry of people i dont know. admittedly i do not know everyone who posts poems here but they are part of the tvch family so i am interested in what they have to say.

thank you for the compliment. this is the most poetry i have written since i was much, much younger. i like that it forces me to express an emotion and it forces me to try to communicate that emotion in words. which in turn forces me to be open with people instead of hiding my feelings.

i realize that i am odd to write poetry and not really be a fan of it like most other poets are. but well that is me. what can i say?