RaulMonkey wrote:3. Wal-Mart favours guys, not dolls.
Who needs a wrench-slap to the balls?
athenabodicea wrote:Knowledge comes with responsibility to be wise
Power with the responsibility to heal
Vision with compassion for what is seen
I have learned to play the music of life
I have forsaken the option to play only for my own amusement
~Unknown~
Cabiria wrote:I like this very much. Thanks for it. Here's my favorite Emily Dickinson poem:
Least Rivers -- docile to some sea.
My Caspian -- thee.
Cabiria wrote:RaulMonkey wrote:3. Wal-Mart favours guys, not dolls.
Who needs a wrench-slap to the balls?
Stop stealing from Eliot's Wasteland.
nodforlife wrote:papa loves mama
mama loves men
mama's in the graveyard
papa's in the pen
RaulMonkey wrote:Good work, havoc. Canadian poetry rules!
Nachokoolaid wrote:Poetry is cool. Thanks to poetry, I'm now a bit more wealthy. I just found out today that I got 1st place in my university's writing contest, and I get $100. WOOO HOOO.
havocSchultz wrote:RaulMonkey wrote:Good work, havoc. Canadian poetry rules!
whoo-hoo!!! thnx!!! viva la canuckleheads...
Adam Balm wrote:Nachokoolaid wrote:Poetry is cool. Thanks to poetry, I'm now a bit more wealthy. I just found out today that I got 1st place in my university's writing contest, and I get $100. WOOO HOOO.
Rock.
What did you write about? Any chance of us getting a look?
Nachokoolaid wrote:Adam Balm wrote:Nachokoolaid wrote:Poetry is cool. Thanks to poetry, I'm now a bit more wealthy. I just found out today that I got 1st place in my university's writing contest, and I get $100. WOOO HOOO.
Rock.
What did you write about? Any chance of us getting a look?
Ribbons wrote: You know, believe me when I say I've had to read through a lot of student poetry about reflections on childhood. I'm pretty sure that I can say with confidence that yours is the best one I've ever read.
Nachokoolaid wrote:Ribbons wrote: You know, believe me when I say I've had to read through a lot of student poetry about reflections on childhood. I'm pretty sure that I can say with confidence that yours is the best one I've ever read.
For you to poop on?
Please don't tell me that's the next post.
If you're serious, then, and seriously, thank you.
Carolian wrote:"16-bit Intel 8088 Chip" by Charles Bukowski.
with an Apple Macintosh
you can't run Radio Shack programs
in its disc drive.
nor can a Commodore 64
drive read a file
you have created on an
IBM Personal Computer.
both Kaypro and Osborne computers use
the CP/M operating system
but can't read each other's
handwriting
for they format (write
on) discs in different
ways.
the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but
can't use most programs produced for
the IBM Personal Computer
unless certain
bits and bytes are
altered
but the wind still blows over
Savannah
and in the Spring
the turkey buzzard struts and
flounces before his
hens.
In the 'When's The Last Time You Got Laid...?' thread from the EFBR, Flumm wrote:Of course, it would also be a weak and convoluted string of mumbled sentences and broken consonants, when the Mounty's are working your fillings with their home made, canadian pine whittled knuckle dusters behind the bus station, for stalking and leaving creepy and sinister, light night "poetry gift baskets" outside the window of Sue-Anne the precinct dinner lady's little cousin...
Yes, yes, I can see THAT all to clearly, too, mm?
Sigh, this being the EFBR though... I don't know whether to wish you luck, or to just call the cops already...
RaulMonkey wrote:The whole thing with the cute Asian chick I have intentions toward started with her crushing on me. She's too shy to say anything to me except for times when she came into the movie theatre where I was working and bought tickets from me, but I divined the fact nevertheless.
Peven wrote:thanks. and yeah, i wrote them. i have a little black book with me poems in it.![]()
on an earlier page in this thread i put up a couple others.
athenabodicea wrote:Peven wrote:thanks. and yeah, i wrote them. i have a little black book with me poems in it.![]()
on an earlier page in this thread i put up a couple others.
Very cool.... And beautiful words...
I have a black book full of poems too...
I dont really like to share them though...
I feel very vulnerable when I share them & so I only share them with very few people...
I posted one of mine up here & then I deleted it from remorse & paranoia... lol
I think there is one of my poems lurking around here somewhere..
Peven wrote: how embarrasing. while going through the thread looking for one of your poems i saw that i had already posted one of the poems i just put up.anyway, i never did find one of yours, unless you go by "unknown".
![]()
Peven wrote: i know what you mean by being self conscious in sharing what you write, because it is letting people see what is inside. but as you have seen on here, i am one who pretty much lets it all hang out and wear my heart on my sleeve, for better or worse. what holds me back from posting some poems on here i have written is that i don't feel they are good enough, ....yet. i am a believer in what one of my better english professors used to say, "writing is never finished, it is just due".
athenabodicea wrote:Peven wrote: how embarrasing. while going through the thread looking for one of your poems i saw that i had already posted one of the poems i just put up.anyway, i never did find one of yours, unless you go by "unknown".
![]()
Well I didnt remember having read either one of the poems you just put up. So, even if I had already read it, I still enjoyed it as if it were the first time I read them again...
As for mine.. It could have been put up in another thread... or
maybe I deleted it... lolPeven wrote: i know what you mean by being self conscious in sharing what you write, because it is letting people see what is inside. but as you have seen on here, i am one who pretty much lets it all hang out and wear my heart on my sleeve, for better or worse. what holds me back from posting some poems on here i have written is that i don't feel they are good enough, ....yet. i am a believer in what one of my better english professors used to say, "writing is never finished, it is just due".
Truer words could not have been spoken...
I am generally like you when you say you wear your heart on your sleeve.. I am always saying too much..
But for some reason my poems.. rather, sharing my poems really make me feel awkward and vulnerable.. Two feelings that I rarely experience in real life... I dont know... I guess I just think of them as something for me, from me.... Maybe I'm paranoid someone will try to steal my words or maybe I'm afraid no one will understand my words... Not sure..
I just know that I get kind of freaked out whenever I share them..
So, thanks for sharing yours...
They really are beautiful & it's nice to see another side of you...
Peven wrote:awww shucks.![]()
![]()
i actually write a lot of my poems with the pipe dream that they could be songs. also, it isn't uncommon for me to end up being reflective or extistential in my writing, like many others, it is a kind of therapy and way to deal with life. example;
The point in life when I knew it all
I didn't think I would ever fall
flat on my face in my own mistakes
see my luck run out or feel my heart break
A river to cross, a mountain to climb
so much to do with so little time
Life is a circus and I've been a clown
playing the fool with tears rolling down
I still have a dream of good things to come
when my time arrives to shine in the sun
I'll keep it alive and make it come true
hope will survive as my soul is renewed
(refrain)
I've stumbled along the way
tripped by mistakes that i have made
I've paid the price
for all thats due
sometimes paid twice
but I've come through
so I'll go on
writing my songs
and sometimes I'll sing the blues
athenabodicea wrote:Peven wrote:awww shucks.![]()
![]()
i actually write a lot of my poems with the pipe dream that they could be songs. also, it isn't uncommon for me to end up being reflective or extistential in my writing, like many others, it is a kind of therapy and way to deal with life. example;
The point in life when I knew it all
I didn't think I would ever fall
flat on my face in my own mistakes
see my luck run out or feel my heart break
A river to cross, a mountain to climb
so much to do with so little time
Life is a circus and I've been a clown
playing the fool with tears rolling down
I still have a dream of good things to come
when my time arrives to shine in the sun
I'll keep it alive and make it come true
hope will survive as my soul is renewed
(refrain)
I've stumbled along the way
tripped by mistakes that i have made
I've paid the price
for all thats due
sometimes paid twice
but I've come through
so I'll go on
writing my songs
and sometimes I'll sing the blues
Once again... very nice..
Do you write music?
Do you play an instrument??
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest