I'm surprised this thread hasn't been made yet. But I'll start with something I wrote today when I should have been studying. I don't write much poety and don't claim to have the talent, but keeping silent, quiet, would be most inexpressive.

Snowfall

While opening a fresh pack,
I walked out into a wonderland.
Igniting one, I let my eyes take the lead.
Curiously watching the snow flakes dance.
Some would end their journey
by floating conciously upon me.
Others would fight their way back to whence they came,
Only to begin their plummet once again.
There were those with no regard,
Crissing and crossing in every which way,
Latching onto others,
the last to fade away
There was but one that caught my curious eye.
Hypnotizing me to its own discretion.
Forcing me to realize
what kind of world we live in.


Two other tiny things that I wrote that I seem to like, heh.


Another day dies when night casts it's shroud
Covering the grass, the town, and the clouds
Lie still - the planes fly overhead
The war has started


Any day now...
The stars will light up
And you'll be on your way.
Darkness?
No, not for long.
Any day now...

mr obi-john... I believe you are NOT on the scrapbook list yet... and you clearly have no excuse not to be.

wonderful! I love poetry threads! When we had one going on the old message board it was fantastic!

I wrote this a few weeks ago...

[b:9d65b34203]1869[/b:9d65b34203]

It took you long enough
You say �
Or did I say?

And do I remind you
Of your youth?
Well you do.
Remind me �
Of my youth.

Sir, I think we've met before
Another time perhaps
Like 1869 �
Perhaps we were lovers
Or brothers.

I'd tell you
You smell of soap and dandelions
If I knew your smell at all
Because that's how �
I remember you

Sir, I know we've met before
In youth
In 1869 �
But it took too long.
Perhaps lovers or brothers
But in another time.

~nicole g

So wonderful. I love how talented everyone here is
I don't write many poems, unfortunately... and the ones I have were written quite a while ago and are all pretty angry... not a headspace I'm in anymore so I probably won't be sharing those... I've been inspired lately and may begin to write again, I'm feeling so... revolutionary lately... perhaps something will come out one day soon.

[b:3d1b24c8a9]the waves of coral[/b:3d1b24c8a9]
november 2, 2003.

buses bow to me as i pass
i walk in lines, not circles
i had the faith but not sure anymore -
presence is not presents.

and it turned out he was older
with another clean slate
and a picture of his future
but glasses on his head
and a match to light the window
flaming gas behind the glass
crossed shoulders do him justice -
twenty one thousand oceans.

twenty one oceans
if he should try a thousand more.

I had difficulty adding spaces in the first one, so that is why the lines are there.

[b:fbb4f2fc38]Untitled[/b:fbb4f2fc38]

All the makers of dawn,
they�ve got ideals.
_______________Smiling.
But you�re an eyesore
when you notice the strife,
the flaming fields in your eyes.

It�s the enemy to your soulless regiment,
the compliment to your cigarette
_______________and coffee.
The Costello to your Waits.
And, in the end,
It�s all demand and demand,
And walk away.


[b:fbb4f2fc38]The Newfoundland Work[/b:fbb4f2fc38]

We talk about others
to avoid talking about ourselves.
Rockwell Kent and his
Newfoundland Work.

He threw a stone on the grave
And we stood behind,
Watching as each of the houses changed.

He carved the town on that stone
With each of their roofs
Pointing to a star
And each of their foundations
Sitting on a stage.

You can see the sky at night.

When the remnants of the ice storm
Were plastered over each of the houses
The warmth inside cut through.

The frames of the window
Framed the lives inside.
Silver screens for what is
Supposed to be unseen.

Walking down the street
Hearing the after dinner sounds
Of dishes clanging together
And a cool wind blowing in
Off the ocean.

Now the stone has washed out to sea,
Falling out of fisherman nets.
Sometimes we think of other places
To avoid where we really are.

Those are pretty. And these boards are misers when it comes to using s p a c e s !!!!!
Probably because in HTML terms ' ' is actually '&nbsp' (I think)... but still.. cheap! lol

[b:0501c0133b]Shooting Fish[/b:0501c0133b]
Beneath the roots where ravens go
an old man whistles soft and sad
reminiscing of his final days
with words unsaid.

And the lady of the lake does mourn
her children laying belly up
like tuna fish gasping
in changing tides.

By the moonlight flapping fireflies
a baroness of foilage collapses
trembling from the great divine's
ability in polymath.

Tiny scarecrows walked along by
with jovial smirks and intrigue
"like mushrooms they cling
towards the darkness".

Solitude in human form shakes
a young man's hand with glee.
Another fish inside his barrel
to shoot at.

great poem PT

[quote:485fb84c73="BoyWonder"]great poem PT [/quote:485fb84c73]

why thank you! ops:

Here are 3 of mine that I wrote many many moons ago!

[b:2beca480e5]Moon Over Venus, 9:38 p.m.[/b:2beca480e5]

A thousand stars
cater to a thousand dreams
wishes
consequences
blue moons
tangible with fate
prophecies unknown to man
and lost to the sky
shivering shock of blue
glitters with the wisdom
and thoughts floating through
towering fates of mankind
lost to the sky
I want to hold you
but to hold would be a treacherous dream
undeemable treasure
subtle to a heart
unsure to keep afloat

(10.18.99)

[b:2beca480e5]becoming a star[/b:2beca480e5]

she looked around
trying to find her maker
and saw nothing

but the sea.

he rose,
shining with an inequity

of the Divine.

she broke before him
and felt her insides turn.
her heart grew large,

her body went up,
joined the stars.

he fell back into the sea.

(February 1998)

[b:2beca480e5]Cravings at 3 am[/b:2beca480e5]

sinews of soul vaporize
beneath the sacred flesh.
eyes stare
as the bottom of my martini glass
becomes clear and I think
that their deviances
come true many times,
yet my own
hide in the pockets of streetcorners
and omit themselves from thought.

(date unknown)

-K

I hope some of these wonderful words show up in the Passioneers Vol. 1 project.


...jim

[color=darkblue:a8e20da42a]Johnathan you should really write some poetry for the scrapbook. :lol: I'd bet Sarah would love to see the creative things that her fans can do.[/color:a8e20da42a]

here is one of mine. by the way, everyone should check out Lindsay's "Gabardine Suits" stuff if they haven't already, they're awesome.
still to be revised and edited, and will probably be twice as long when it's done...

(no title yet)

I'm blueprinting the creases on the palm of god to orchestrate the battles
that will redefine all that is holy.
Take me to the second floor
Lead me down the corridor
Mark this date . . .
I�m scrubbing grails; I just can�t seem to get things clean enough around here.

I inhale Caesar�s last breath,
Kiss the ides and tug the laurels
Patra pistol-whips the homeless in mutiny
Khan clears the land of weakness.

Let�s go to London
1942
Smell the chimney carpeted sidewalks
Wet, grainy forehead sweeps
Shield the dust and debris from your face with your sleeves.
Push aside the broadcasts
Wake to a memorized emancipation
Deliver me, from every obstruction
This is not the way we deserve.
We did not live the breadline life for this.

Wonder of Pendragon�s burial and the frame of ash statues in ordinary life,
the flooded city streets and the gondolier�s song.
Matches to ashes and rust to dust
the decay of history in a moment of lust.
The erosion of fear is blown away
Cling to the past, the only thing that we trust.

Living the ordinary life while the skies exiled dress the streets

I wish I could write English poetry. I can only seem to really express myself in Dutch.

[quote:827d3be593="Lydia"]I wish I could write English poetry. I can only seem to really express myself in Dutch.[/quote:827d3be593]

Some Dutch poety sounds likes a wonderful addition to the art-book project!


...jim

^ ^ ^ Agreed. I love diversity.

what a lovely thread; it's so nice to read people's work and it's kool that people are so forthcoming with their thoughts... this link is to a poem of mine published a few years ago in The Breath e-zine.

http://www.thebreath.com/ezine/2002/January/tanisha.html

peace&love,
t.t.

beautiful ^

Seriously folks, there truly is some awesome talent on the boards - these poetry posts have all been wonderful!

I hope all you poets are submitting to the art-book project!


...jim

attn: Joleary
what email address should i send my stuff to for the art-book project?

sorry for being so late, things have been hectic with school and didn't know if you would accept anything after the deadline.
thanks for the motivation though. i need it.