I would love to see some examples of poetry. I'll be brave if you are.

U

Uncontrolable

Member
Location
Tucson Az
The Old House:

The old house still standing here.
All these years drawing me near.
In the sky the clouds are all
Forgotten faces.

Here as a child spelled my name,
Sang my songs, played my games.
Yet, there was ice in the wind,
Hidden pain in secret places.

Through the door with memories light.
Fear on the left. Hate on the right.
Love alone, no where in sight.
Hate was shameless.

How can he cry when its not real?
Reality just the way he feels.
When he prays he forgets to kneel.
Where were the angels?

Does the light of love hold a plan,
for kids somewhere in shadow land,
And for the man who's life is
Torn in Tangles?

Now his guilt, all that's left,
And his fear which never rests.
No memories to name from
an aching past, in the last pages.

Without surrender there was no light
To part the blackness of that gloomy night.
No language came to call him guiltless.
All that's left is the face of innocence...
Gone bad.
 

I'll play. Was told by the military therapist that this was good for the soul. :eek:

I came upon a picture
of one so dear to me
my vision blurred, my eyes got wet
and I stumbled sightlessly

through a dewey raindrop vision
where I relived days long past
of summer breeze, and busy bee's
and a pace that couldn't last

we fought so hard and often
bout things I can't now think why
until at last, she had enough
and said her last goodbye

It's been some years
since that last goodbye
but I remember still
sweet blue eyes that showed such hurt
when she said...
I love you and I always will

R.I.P. Phylliss
 
squatting dog said:
I'll play. Was told by the military therapist that this was good for the soul. :eek:

I came upon a picture
of one so dear to me
my vision blurred, my eyes got wet
and I stumbled sightlessly

through a dewey raindrop vision
where I relived days long past
of summer breeze, and busy bee's
and a pace that couldn't last

we fought so hard and often
bout things I can't now think why
until at last, she had enough
and said her last goodbye

It's been some years
since that last goodbye
but I remember still
sweet blue eyes that showed such hurt
when she said...
I love you and I always will

R.I.P. Phylliss
Click to expand...
That is pretty and hard at the same time. Here is the beginning of a poem I wrote some time ago.
No matter what the world brings
Sorrows or hard times.
Even if tomarrow we had to start anew.
I'd take your hand all over.
Walk this road once more.
Cause when I look into your eyes,
There's that moment of truth we share.
That moment of truth we share.
 

squatting dog said:
I'll play. Was told by the military therapist that this was good for the soul. :eek:

I came upon a picture
of one so dear to me
my vision blurred, my eyes got wet
and I stumbled sightlessly

through a dewey raindrop vision
where I relived days long past
of summer breeze, and busy bee's
and a pace that couldn't last

we fought so hard and often
bout things I can't now think why
until at last, she had enough
and said her last goodbye

It's been some years
since that last goodbye
but I remember still
sweet blue eyes that showed such hurt
when she said...
I love you and I always will

R.I.P. Phylliss
Click to expand...
That is pretty.
 
Very nice poetry from both of you. :sentimental:

Deep into the canopy
Light streams guide the way
Sounds of unseen creatures intrigue
Scampering through fallen leaves
Songbird speaks to me from high
Searching, I see not him or sky
Embraced by earth and pulse of life
Nature is my companion
Never alone and always at peace
I walk deeper and deeper within
 
Signs

Soft breeze on my cheek, like your breath in the night
A flock of birds take an impulsive flight

Warm sun on my hand, your lips I recall
A gold autumn leaf that will suddenly fall

A fluttering butterfly rests on my knee
White feathers appearing from nowhere I see

Magical signs show you're still by my side
Holding my hand through the tears that I hide

Bringing some comfort, and easing my pain
Until I am back in your arms once again ......
 
Wren said:
Signs

Soft breeze on my cheek, like your breath in the night
A flock of birds take an impulsive flight

Warm sun on my hand, your lips I recall
A gold autumn leaf that will suddenly fall

A fluttering butterfly rests on my knee
White feathers appearing from nowhere I see

Magical signs show you're still by my side
Holding my hand through the tears that I hide

Bringing some comfort, and easing my pain
Until I am back in your arms once again ......
Click to expand...

Again, very nice. Ethereal.

Here is another old one of mine. "I Know You"

Don't believe I'm standing here. Letting you hurt me again, again.

Don't believe I'm crying here. If the world could see the pain I'm in, I'm in.

Don't believe the things I've said. A million words of pain inside my head, can't wait.

Just who was it said, "Its never too late."

I know you. I see you in the mirror. I know you, can't see you any clearer.

If this were someone else, would I wish all this pain to be, to be?

Its only cause I'm all alone. There's no one else to hurt in here, just me, just me.

You'll never quite make up the things, all those down and lonely things you've done, for hate.

Is what comes around a twist of fate?

There must be some way out. A door that's open just for me, for me.

I've seen to many smiling eyes to think there's only one way left to be, to be.

If somehow I bow my head. Pray for the lord to keep me safe, me safe.

Is that what they call a leap of faith?
 
Lon said:
Mary had a little sheep and took it to bed with her to sleep. The sheep turned out to be a Ram and Mary Had a Little Lamb.
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Happy Valentines to my love.
Your my life, my turtle dove.
Life with you is great, it seems.
I love you more than pork and beans.
 
Lying here, alone,
Sifting through sheer rainbows,
Those ghosts of painted dreams
Binding me to you. All their narrow
Laughter framed in silence, cutting
Layers of shattered moments, drawn
Tight against the paper cuts of wounded
Words. Spent tears speak best within the
Pain, like captured raindrops nestled
Inside a crystal thought, waiting for the
Sun, knowing you will come.
 
Shalimar said:
Lying here, alone,
Sifting through sheer rainbows,
Those ghosts of painted dreams
Binding me to you. All their narrow
Laughter framed in silence, cutting
Layers of shattered moments, drawn
Tight against the paper cuts of wounded
Words. Spent tears speak best within the
Pain, like captured raindrops nestled
Inside a crystal thought, waiting for the
Sun, knowing you will come.
Click to expand...

Seems like everyone here does some interesting work. I love your imagery. "Pain like captured raindrops nestled Inside a crystal thought," Your words have movement like a painting.
 
Uncontrolable said:
Seems like everyone here does some interesting work. I love your imagery. "Pain like captured raindrops nestled Inside a crystal thought," Your words have movement like a painting.
Click to expand...

Thank you. I try to paint emotional pictures through the medium of words. Since I tend toward the conceptual, it can be a challenge-like braiding spidersilk in the dark.
 
Shalimar said:
Thank you. I try to paint emotional pictures through the medium of words. Since I tend toward the conceptual, it can be a challenge-like braiding spidersilk in the dark.
Click to expand...

I was taught in an adult, night class to do what the instructor called "clustering". This is easy and fun, at least for me. Write a word, or phrase down on paper. Then circle it. Draw lines which radiate away from the paper. On these lines write several words, or phrases which come to you in relation to the word you wrote. Then begin placing the phrases into sentences on another peace of paper. Sometimes it only takes about 20 minutes to write an almost completed poem or song.

Here is a song I wrote just that way. But, I can't tell you which sentence I used. Its called, "Winter Coat"

You were like that winter coat. I threw on with ease.
Frayed at the edges. Couldn't quite shut out the breeze.
Collar a little stained by tears that once were shed.
A shade of wilted brown, but it was my old friend.

When I threw it on it made me warm.
When I had it on safe from harm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Never needed more can't you see.
Never needed more can't you see.

What is it about the ones that we love?
Tiny embers glowing answered prayers from above.
What was once so new like the passing of each day
Despite the years gone by, never seemed to age.

The time for you and I was always now.
Our memories were written like our vows.
Cemented to our souls like living things.
Growing old together you and me.
Growing old together you and me.

Something wrong with time. The world fell out of bliss.
Last day that you were hear, a day I somehow missed.
A clock keeps ticking time for a life now our of rhyme.
A heart keeps pacing beats for a soul incomplete.

What happened to my coat of winter warm?
I need it for this cold and blowing storm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Growing old without you. Can't you see?
Growing old without you. Cant you see.
 
Uncontrolable said:
I was taught in an adult, night class to do what the instructor called "clustering". This is easy and fun, at least for me. Write a word, or phrase down on paper. Then circle it. Draw lines which radiate away from the paper. On these lines write several words, or phrases which come to you in relation to the word you wrote. Then begin placing the phrases into sentences on another peace of paper. Sometimes it only takes about 20 minutes to write an almost completed poem or song.

Here is a song I wrote just that way. But, I can't tell you which sentence I used. Its called, "Winter Coat"

You were like that winter coat. I threw on with ease.
Frayed at the edges. Couldn't quite shut out the breeze.
Collar a little stained by tears that once were shed.
A shade of wilted brown, but it was my old friend.

When I threw it on it made me warm.
When I had it on safe from harm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Never needed more can't you see.
Never needed more can't you see.

What is it about the ones that we love?
Tiny embers glowing answered prayers from above.
What was once so new like the passing of each day
Despite the years gone by, never seemed to age.

The time for you and I was always now.
Our memories were written like our vows.
Cemented to our souls like living things.
Growing old together you and me.
Growing old together you and me.

Something wrong with time. The world fell out of bliss.
Last day that you were hear, a day I somehow missed.
A clock keeps ticking time for a life now our of rhyme.
A heart keeps pacing beats for a soul incomplete.

What happened to my coat of winter warm?
I need it for this cold and blowing storm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Growing old without you. Can't you see?
Growing old without you. Cant you see.[/QUOTE

I love the imagery in "wilted brown." So evocative.
Click to expand...
 
Shalimar said:
Uncontrolable said:
I was taught in an adult, night class to do what the instructor called "clustering". This is easy and fun, at least for me. Write a word, or phrase down on paper. Then circle it. Draw lines which radiate away from the paper. On these lines write several words, or phrases which come to you in relation to the word you wrote. Then begin placing the phrases into sentences on another peace of paper. Sometimes it only takes about 20 minutes to write an almost completed poem or song.

Here is a song I wrote just that way. But, I can't tell you which sentence I used. Its called, "Winter Coat"

You were like that winter coat. I threw on with ease.
Frayed at the edges. Couldn't quite shut out the breeze.
Collar a little stained by tears that once were shed.
A shade of wilted brown, but it was my old friend.

When I threw it on it made me warm.
When I had it on safe from harm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Never needed more can't you see.
Never needed more can't you see.

What is it about the ones that we love?
Tiny embers glowing answered prayers from above.
What was once so new like the passing of each day
Despite the years gone by, never seemed to age.

The time for you and I was always now.
Our memories were written like our vows.
Cemented to our souls like living things.
Growing old together you and me.
Growing old together you and me.

Something wrong with time. The world fell out of bliss.
Last day that you were hear, a day I somehow missed.
A clock keeps ticking time for a life now our of rhyme.
A heart keeps pacing beats for a soul incomplete.

What happened to my coat of winter warm?
I need it for this cold and blowing storm.
Pockets full of lint and dusty dreams.
Growing old without you. Can't you see?
Growing old without you. Cant you see.[/QUOTE

I love the imagery in "wilted brown." So evocative.
Click to expand...

I wrote this many years ago. It helps to hear the melody. I used to think this was one of my best songs. Now I think the last two verses need some work. Perhaps, songs are like paintings. Sometimes you never finish them.
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Uncontrolable;676584 I wrote this many years ago. It helps to hear the melody. I used to think this was one of my best songs. Now I think the last two verses need some work. Perhaps said:
In my experience, creativity, like enlightenment, tends to be an ongoing process.
Click to expand...
 
Shalimar said:
In my experience, creativity, like enlightenment, tends to be an ongoing process.
Click to expand...

I wrote about 40 songs. There were a few I felt might work. The was a music engineer out of LA who came to the class to listen to some of our work. He commented that he would have liked to hear an arrangement of one of my songs. Shortly after that I entered a time in my life that I have heard called "The dark night of the soul". Years later I came out on the other side. I haven't tried to write any prose, poetry, essays. I know I am capable of these things. I have painted and have gotten encouragement from many sources. But, I can help but think there is something missing. It is like my real work hasn't shown up yet.

I know what I am feeling!! Maslow's hierarchy of needs. I feel disappointed in my life's work. I am no longer independent. Sorry, did not mean to have this revelation on your watch. I wonder how many people find aspects of themselves doing this. A new thread question.
 
Uncontrolable said:
I wrote about 40 songs. There were a few I felt might work. The was a music engineer out of LA who came to the class to listen to some of our work. He commented that he would have liked to hear an arrangement of one of my songs. Shortly after that I entered a time in my life that I have heard called "The dark night of the soul". Years later I came out on the other side. I haven't tried to write any prose, poetry, essays. I know I am capable of these things. I have painted and have gotten encouragement from many sources. But, I can help but think there is something missing. It is like my real work hasn't shown up yet.

I know what I am feeling!! Maslow's hierarchy of needs. I feel disappointed in my life's work. I am no longer independent. Sorry, did not mean to have this revelation on your watch. I wonder how many people find aspects of themselves doing this. A new thread question.
Click to expand...
Everything I found came to me once I stopped looking for it.
 
A year has gone since you went away
I sorely wish that you could stay
For all the times I tried to accept
your passing I still cry
I never understood your silent cry
but in the end I knew it was goodby
I scratched your chin and your ears
you close your eyes and lick my nose
A promise I made to keep
after I laid you down to sleep
From the begginning to the very end
memories kept dear to heart
 

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