Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

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Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

Postby adaptingmyidentity » Thu Mar 06, 2008 4:11 am

Here is one of my poems

A comfortable sofa
Wide screen TV.
You may well look
But do you see?

A dark dusty road
A mother is crying.
In her arms,
A baby is dying.

A comfortable sofa
Wide screen TV.
It's time for East Enders,
Sunday at three.

The houses are gone,
Just rubble is left.
A shoe in the road.
A family bereft.

A comfortable sofa
Wide screen TV.
What will you watch?
As you, eat your tea

Mass graves are dug
The bodies piled high.
No time to grieve,
As more victims die.

A comfortable sofa
Wide screen TV.
The film was c***
And they charged a fee

Look at your neighbour,
Her down the street.
A warm friendly smile
Each time you meet.

Imagine a time,
If you could.
You murder your neighbour,
In sheer cold blood

Death on our streets
and children in fear,
Reassuring words
and a solitary tear.

Silence now fills
the once sounds of play.
Dreams buried deep
in the ground that they lay
Last edited by MsMarbles on Sat Apr 19, 2008 4:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Thread title edited to add.
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This is why I'm called Scribbler

Postby Scribbler » Sat Mar 08, 2008 3:46 pm

A Time of Dreams - by Scribbler

I like the way things circle round
and change, and change again
back to the same thing as before.
Everything seems to move at its own pace
through a cycle, just as it did before
So the sun will rise again
breathe its old life into the waking earth.
Blossom will fruit, and we,
we will lie in long grass
watching clouds and aeroplanes,
dreaming this is the only life,
the only time,
and all other seasons only dreams
or tales, told long ago, forgotten now,
Till autumn comes, and winter days,
so short, but long, interminably long
Then we'll sit drowsing by the fire
Warming red hands on mugs of tea
And dreaming this is all there is
And summer days a dream, or long ago.
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Re: just sharing my poem

Postby MsMarbles » Sat Mar 08, 2008 4:30 pm

I love poetry. Your poem is great :)

Poetry puts pictures to words for me. It brings words to life :)

Most of mine can be a bit deep. Here is one of mine:

Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Evening Breeze

To smell that fresh mown lawn
Has my senses all a tingle
Breathing in scents of summer flowers
as the aromas they all mingle

I hear the buzz of flying insects
And the sound of the pnuematic drills
I love the scent of summer days
which make those summer thrills

The crickets click clicking in the grass
Washing blowing in the warm breeze
The hayfever season at it's worse
to make me gently sneeze

The distant sounds of childrens laughs
As they play on amusements in the park
The jingle of the ice cream van
And the neighbours dogs that bark

The splashing of the paddling pools
as children scream with unsupressed glee
wishing they had their buckets and spades
and making sandcastles by the sea

The sky is oh so very vivid blue
With just peepings of some cloud break
even with these varying summer sounds
It's peaceful, only summer sounds can make

I sit out in the evening breeze,
at hand, a long cool drink
a book lying open on my knees
and back to childhood I do sink

As I close my eyes, the years fall back
to lollipop days, sand and sea
The Summer sounds, the Summer smells
bring memories flooding back to me

Summer magic, has that charm
to whisk your imagination away
to summers of so long ago
Which in your memory stay

Cycling along the country roads
To find a pleasant picnic spot
making loads of daisy chains
Summers time has not forgot

Pogo sticks and roller skates
Games of skipping, ball and tag
running barefoot on the grass
getting bought a lucky bag

This breeze now has a nip to it,
the present returns so swift
The summer day starts to fade to dusk
looking back feels such a gift

A gift that Summer magic holds
Reminising type of season that is
that wafts you back to childhood
with that gentle Summer breeze kiss

Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

┬® Copyright MsMarbles
I believe.....
I believe and trust in Eddie and keela.
"Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence." - John Adams
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Re: This is why I'm called Scribbler

Postby Elemental » Sat Mar 08, 2008 11:49 pm

Very good :)
Let that be a lesson to one and to all, a person is a person, no matter how small.
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Re: This is why I'm called Scribbler

Postby Scribbler » Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:35 pm

Ta! :D
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so we come to this (poem)

Postby Tiny » Wed Apr 16, 2008 1:31 am

It/I will be slated again but hey, who gives a fook! 8)

Inside the Mind of a Monster

Today I will begin
to dig my own grave,
with a stiff upper lip
I stand strong and brave

I will, with my plan
set out to deceive,
if I say it enough
the whole world will believe!

The venomous bile
that spues from my tongue,
I will say it so often
they wont prove me wrong!

I will be so convincing
the whole world will agree,
I couldn't be guilty
it couldn't be me!

I will pull all the strings
I will be puppeteer,
I will show them all
that I have nothing to fear

My other half
will be right by my side
so I can hold up my head
with innocence and pride,

I will never show them
what they want to see
that the guilty party
has always been ME!

Justice for Madeleine with a capital J
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Re: Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

Postby ashbrooke » Wed Apr 23, 2008 9:21 pm

One of my efforts after talking to a friend about affairs.
It's a bit silly.


Missing in action now presumed dead, I'm positive the very last pair I washed were red.
Then again I can't be sure, it seems so long ago.
Do you think they are hanging on some one else's washing line next to a black thong?
Or chucked inside a recycle bin, ready for dispatch to Chan Chow Chong!
They might end up being analyzed in some far flung place, two lots of DNA intact,
What if someone gets in touch?
Then the biggest problem for me is....
How the hell will I react?
I didn't love him that much!
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Re: Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

Postby chimaera » Wed Apr 23, 2008 9:25 pm

Some great poems there.
Ashbrooke - that is just so good!

I write prose rather than poems. It's all a bit deep and dark. To depressing for here!
Things are never so bad that they can't get worse.
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Re: Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

Postby ashbrooke » Tue Apr 29, 2008 7:27 pm

Poetry competition with good prize money. {sorry still can't do links.]

Arvon Foundation

The Arvon International Poetry Competition 2008 opens on May 1st...

Download the entry form

2008 marks Arvon's 40th birthday and the fourteenth Arvon International Poetry Competition. The competition is open to all poets around the world and poems are entered anonymously. There are no line or subject matter restrictions.

The judges for 2008 are UK Poet Laureate Andrew Motion, Moniza Alvi and Alice Oswald.

The competition will open on 1st May 2008 and the deadline for entries is 15th August - we must receive everything by 5pm on that date.

Prizes -

Classic FM First Prize - £5000
Second Prize - £2500
Third Prize - £1000
Three commendation prizes - £500 each.

Ted Hughes Environmental Poetry Prize
of £1000 plus a selection of Ted Hughes publications.
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Re: Forum Members own Poetry - just sharing my poem

Postby Himself » Mon May 05, 2008 3:48 pm

I profess to being no poet but have enjoyed on occasion scribbling the odd line.

Briefly a couple of years ago I joined a small writer's circle to see how those with some bit of structure in their writings performed.

Each week at the close of play a subject would be picked at random out of the proverbial hat, we would then endeavour to write a bit of something and each would subsequently read out their efforts at the next gathering.

Some two or three meetings later the subject of "A starry night" came up.
I had months previously written a few short lines, and they were short lines for that was all that was needed to describe one of the most profound moments of my life.

So already having these words about me on the very subject I wrote an into explaining how they came to be writ.

In Northern vernacular with some bitteen of West Cork thrown in for luck, this is how it went.


I got the job where most all jobs is got; in the pub.
Would I ship aboard a trawler going to France, and tow a boat back.
Giving it a bitteen of thought, and not wanting the sole company of two
Other men, I says "If Herself can come, you're on"
"It's a bit rough on board" says the skipper.
"Sure she'll grand, not a problem"
So off we sets, it were fair lumpy day, thought to me self
I'm glad Herself's with me, at least we can keep the bunk warm.
There's nothing much to do on those kind of jobs, it's all steaming.
Skipper weren't up to much, he were a Kiwi, I think he'd
Been to one of them antipodean charm schools, but that's another story.

Next day, it were glorious, so we thought we'd soak up some rays.
We dragged the mattresses up onto the foredeck, just in front of the wheelhouse, it were the only place you could sunbathe.
Well Herself, not bein' one for false modesty, or bikini tops,
Gets ragged off, and its tits out for the lads.
Well I might be a bit biased, but she's a fair bonny lass, and I'm
Sure lads in wheelhouse agreed wi' me.
It must have made watch keeping a bit more interesting.
In fact if it weren't for autopilot, I don't think boat would have ever got where it were s'posed to.

But got there we did, and made ready the tow for next day.
Well Herself had brought her glad rags, so we hit the town
And got her lit.
Herself with her long tanned legs n all glittery, she looked a million
Dollars, and I felt like one.
What's all this got to wi' stars? Well as the Manx say,
"Traa-dy-Liooar" it's a bit like manyana, only no where near as urgent,
"Time enough"

So off we sets back with this yoke in tow, now for them of you that
Don't know what a yoke is, well it's a grand Irish word, and if you does a bit of writing , then it's a right handy one to have.

A yoke is anything, a big yoke, a small yoke, a grand yoke altogether,
You gets the idea.
One crystal clear night, there's Herself and Himself, that's me,
Sat on a couple of fish boxes on the blunt end off this old yoke
We were sailing on.
And there it were, in all it's glory, the Milky Way.
It just blew us away, I just haven't got the words in me to describe it.
It were like we were little atoms, no them little things inside 'em.
Them neutrons or protons or what ever there called.
We were speechless, it were a wonder we'll never forget.
It were some time later, I couldn't get this sight out of me head.
And then didn't a few little lines appear, just like magic, and them lines were these.

Delight the night
For hidden by day
Delight the night
We sailed the Milky Way
Our chariot of rust and rattles
Our space ship on the sea.
In all matters of opinion, our adversaries are insane.
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