Just wondering if we have any aspiring poets out there?? why not share your writing on this thread?? (only post if you are sure you want your writing made public)

Shall I lead by example and start us off???

Yes please.

A fine old warrior road out one day upon his fair white philly

Im thor - he cried

The Horse replied- you forgot your thadle silly

I have a few I have wrote myself, here is one of them I wrote for my grandmother when she passed on (hope you like it)

'The tale about the caterpillar and the butterfly'

Now you have gone
I shall not weep,
as I have the memories
that I shall keep.

And the thoughts of you
that make me smile,
Is how I know
it's all worth while.

It's just a phase your passing through,
something we all have to do.
Like the caterpillar,turns into a butterfly
yet the caterpillar,
it does not die.

You have spread your wings,
you have learned to fly.
That's how I know,
that you did not die.

So forgive me if I do not weep,
Your spirit flies on,
While your body sleeps!

(hope you liked it Wiki,and thanks for reading!)

Very moving ..

Have u written anymore Chris?

yes Judy I have a great one (if I might say so myself lol) about a child at christmas that I'm quite proud of and will put it up nearer the time) I have a fair few to be honest about all things in life different genres etc,do you write yourself Judy?

Thank you for your comment

Chris

I will put another one up later on tonight as I've been doing a night shift and really need my bed.

Good morning and good night all!!

There was a young man from the coast,
who received a parcel in the post,
in it he observed a crystallised turd,
and the balls of his grandfathers ghost.

is that one of your own Ludwigvan?? lol

I'd like to say it was Chris,but there was a chap called Gerry who drank in Saint Annes club in Rock Ferry about thirty years ago who seemed to have hundreds of them,a lovely chap.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Some poems rhyme
And other ones don't.

Clears throat...

Oh, to be a caterpillar,
Life would be a farce.
Sliding down a lettuce leaf,
And landing on my elbow!

Thank you, thank you! I know, I know...it's my genius - it's such a curse. Some of us are born great - others of us have to have it thrust into us, later in life. Mine was thrust into me before birth - I'd kill my dad, if he was alive!

For my next poem, I'd like to share...

There once was a lady called Perkins
Who was ever so fond of small gherkins.
One day, after tea,
She ate forty-three,
And pickled her internal workings!

B'bum...tisssshhhh!

And, with that, I must away! My forsooth is verily packed with gadzooks and that nasty audience is getting ever closer with those iron bars!

Think well of me, until I heartily strike you into damnable mirth once again - byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! The Phantom Giggly escapes into the night, yet again!

That made me laugh Godsplinter thanks for that,you have cheered me up,well not that I was down anyways but you know what I mean.
And you fireman fil thanks to you too mate!

AUSSIE LOVE POEM


Of course I love ya darling
You're a bloody top notch bird
And when I say you're gorgeous
I mean every single word
So ya bum is on the big side
I don't mind a bit of flab
It means that when I'm ready
There's somethin there to grab
So your belly isn't flat no more
I tell ya, I don't care
So long as when I cuddle ya
I can get my arms round there
No sheila who is your age
Has nice round perky breasts
They just gave in to gravity
But I know ya did ya best
I'm tellin ya the truth now
I never tell ya lies
I think its very sexy
That you've got dimples on ya thighs
I swear on me nanna's grave now
The moment that we met
I thought u was as good as
I Was ever gonna get
No matter wot u look like
I'll always love ya dear
Now shut up while the footy's on
And fetch another beer.

Ha! Ha! Brilliant, love it.

i ersonally think that the ancient mariner poem by coleridge is simply fantastic

Part I

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
Mayst hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
`Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropped he.

He holds him with his glittering eye -
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon -"
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"And now the storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And foward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken -
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moonshine."

`God save thee, ancient Mariner,
From the fiends that plague thee thus! -
Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow
I shot the Albatross."


Part II

"The sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung."


Part III

"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye -
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame,
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.

And straight the sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that Woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
`The game is done! I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip -
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The horned moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly, -
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my crossbow!"


Part IV

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown.' -
"Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropped not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
Forthe sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky,
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.

The moving moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside -

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea."


Part V

"Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven,
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light -almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools -
We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me."

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner!'
"Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned -they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the skylark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe;
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.

The sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion -
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two voices in the air.

`Is it he?' quoth one, `Is this the man?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, `The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.'


Part VI

First Voice

But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing -
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?

Second Voice

Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast -

If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.

First Voice

But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?

Second Voice

The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.

"I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapped: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen -

Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring -
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze -
On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own country?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray -
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck -
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart -
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third -I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood."


Part VII

"This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineers
That come from a far country.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve -
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
`Why, this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?'

`Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said -
`And they answered not our cheer!
The planks looked warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young.'

`Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look -
(The Pilot made reply)
I am afeared' -`Push on, push on!'
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl where sank the ship
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips -the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
`Ha! ha!' quoth he, `full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own country,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
The Hermit crossed his brow.
`Say quick,' quoth he `I bid thee say -
What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are;
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company! -

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn

Another Classic By Coleridge, Kubla Khan


In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

HA HA nice one

A Christmas Poem

Where the chilly winds of Autumn
Take their leave and all is still
When the first soft snow of winter
can be seen on every hill
When the sound of excited laughter drifts over every street
When there are hugs and kisses everytime people meet
When the world is bright and happy and is reaching out to share
It's then we know it's CHRISTMAS for theres goodwill everywhere

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL

My Christmas Poem:- (I wrote it in 1990)
To the tune of "The Alphabet Song" Ready? here we go.........

C-is for complacency around the Christmas tree
H-is for the hostages in foreign countries
R-is for the rescuers who try to set them free
I's for good old Ireland where we pray for peace and harmony
S-is for the suffering that families must bear
T-is for the terror and the trough of dark despair
M-is for the murderers who perpetrate the crimes
A-is for the anguish and the agony of minds
S-is for salvation, but I think you will agree

The chances are slim; the prospects are grim
For world stability!!

Have a nice Christmas-but think of those less fortunate than us who live in fear. :-)

Mistaken Identity....

Mistaken identity
Peanut Or Pepper?
It's just the mentality
Plastic or leather?


Accusations fly
It makes me sick
Why not let it lie
Stop being a prick


You know who you are
And so do I too
Stop being an arse
And I will too


Let me climb trees
As you look on
Look I'm free
Is your name Tom?


Yes I'm a nut job
A mystery
I love corn on the cob
And i got a big gob


This poem was written by
Peanut or Pepper?
Let you decide
But I'm not a pepper

Yes you are!

See the funny thing is that only one other person on here has ever used this delightful expression


You can understand how it would be an easy conclusion to come to

ChrisNewcastle, I am so sorry for not seeing this thresad before I began a Poet's Corner. Please forgive.

With this in mind it seems only fair that I should post one on your thread.

I love Fils thought provoking Christmas poem above.

With this in mind, I chose the following, which was written at a time of sadness, but with belief that the power of words can heal.

THE CLOSING DOOR

No more tales from times of old,
No more to see our lives unfold,
No more to watch the butterflies,
On summer days with sunny skies

No more to wake in morning light,
No more to bid the moon goodnight,
No more to watch the rosebuds bloom,
An empty chair; a lonely room.

And so you’re gone from us it seems,
However much we hold our dreams
Of memories; the days we shared,
Happy times and love transferred.

Now we know you’ve found your place
Within His arms of loving grace;
We shall not ask for anymore
But weep behind the closing door.

(c)2009

Dad

This is a poem about my Dad
a better one I could not have
He was there when I needed him most
but now I know he's just a ghost

He can’t be here to hold my hand
to hear me out and understand
but he's always here inside my heart
as he has been from the start

He can’t be here to share my life
when I become a "Mum" and "wife"
but I feel he's always near
in my mind I see him clear

I can see him here right now
I can hear him tell me how
to live my life to the full
so my days are never dull

As a dad he was the best
as a friend, forget the rest
when I was down he had a kiss
his friendship I will always miss.

Another two short renditions from me.....

FLIES

There are no flies on me
For I use Dettol aftershave
I bathe in red carbolic
And I'm happy doing that

There are no flies on me
My hair is bleached with DDT
My clothes are starched with fly spray
(God-I really am a pratt!!)

CHE GUEVARA

A drunk came across from the men's bar
He approached me, his voice was quite halting
"You remind me of Che Guevara!" said I
He said "Why?"
I replied, "You're revolting!"

No need to apologise Granny,I think we have all done that time to time,loved your poem,excellent rhyme and meter.A really enjoyable read.That goes for all of the poems I have read on this thread,Granny how can I find your thread please?? I have not been on here for a while.

Hi Chris, and thank you. I wish more people would have a go, it's nice to read others.

Poets Corner on Lifestyle. Near the bottom of the page.

https://www.wikiwirral.co.uk/forums/ubbthreads.php/topics/643783/Poets_Corner.html#Post643783

A Special World

A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.

Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.

And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.

- Sheelagh Lennon -

Heres one for us to share Granny xx

That's really beautiful Lightning. Thanks for sharing with me. x

Thanks Granny ,so are yours xx

Great poems all..

Heres a couple i wrote some time ago.....

MY LIVERPOOL HOME
-------------------------

A gentle sea, a calming wind, the seagulls follow me
across the good old river mersey near the irish sea
go on Take a ferry ride its surely is one of a kind
The tranquility of the liver buildings will truely blow your mind.

Liverpool the gate to fun, with many things to see
a walk around the Ablbert dock, it is the place to be
St johns beacon climbing high it almost touches heaven
famous for its radio station City 96.7.

Many faces have arose from this little city
some are Musical, some are funny, but most are very pretty
Sit along the seashore and look from left to right
the lights that light up Liverpool in the middle of the night.

Its truely a sight that must be seen whenever youre about
but dont get to carried away, no need to 'twist and shout'
thats Liverpool the port of love, the place that i do to roam
given a choice of all the world, i'd make Liverpool my home.



The Darkside (The Looming Of Time) A trip on the outer edge of unsanity......
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Insanity and sanity both in a sphere, the looming of time, takes one step near
A voice in my head i try to unlock, the looming of time, it ticks like a clock
The centralisation of all mankind, the looming of time, is the answer i find
The daskside i hold the secrets inside, the looming of time, i try to unhide

The past & the present, the future of life, the looming of time, as blunt as a knife
A civilisation that makes us believe, the looming of time, is about to conceive
My passion my love my feelings inside, the looming of time, is about to collide
The looming of life is one that i fear, the looming of time, is about to appear


POW WOW
--------------

Sitting bull in all his glory
a gathered growd he tells a story
about the arrow the axe the gun
and tells of how the west was won

Around the fire dressed in his fleece
he passes around the pipe of peace
they sit till dusk and talk of war
and of the bloody sights that they saw

Many men they lost that day
but proud men died the indian way
they gave their lives for the land
cos white man wouldnt shake their hand

Now the spirits of brave men soar
into the wind to live once more
their sacred land is free at last
they look to the future not to the past


I do have more but i had a phase of some very strange ones and maybe too much for some people...

Mark

lovely poems Mark.

Tranquil, I think your poems are really moving and involved and like them very much. You are obviously good at this, please send us some more, the stranger the better. We would love to read them? As someone else mentioned, make sure you understand the copyrite thing tho'.
Post one at a time and see how they go.

A gentle word like a spark of light,
Illuminates my soul
And as each sound goes deeper,
It's YOU that makes me whole

There is no corner, no dark place,
YOUR LOVE cannot fill
And if the world starts causing waves,
It's your devotion that makes them still

And yes you always speak to me,
In sweet honesty and truth
Your caring heart keeps out the rain,
YOUR LOVE, the ultimate roof

So thank you my Love for being there,
For supporting me, my life
I'll do the same for you, you know,
My Beautiful, Darling Wife.

- David G. Kelly -

Heres another one for us to share.
Hope you like it Granny x

Thanks you for the comments, lovely poem Lightning.... i do think some of my poems maybe too controversial, but i wrote them cos im very open minded i wouldnt want to offend anyone, we all have different beleifs i know, Granny what is the copyrite you mention?


THE JOURNEY & THE ANGEL
---------------------------------

Im flying through fluffy clouds of silver, looking down at a world of bright colours, relaxed and thrilled and ever so chilled my heart beats are thouroughly fulfilled.

The clouds are immense with thier beauty and splender, and the sky of aqua blue fills my heart as i think of you, this technocoloured journey i will always remember.

An angel is weeping on a cloud near by, "oh angel my lady why do thy cry", for love she says i have lost my wings and from this day i will never fly.

I hold out my hand and hope that she takes, being carefull not to make any mistakes, she slips and falls, i knew that she would, now i know that ive lost her for good.

The moral of this poem is to open yours eyes and to catch falling angels that fall from the skys, but never give up it was once wrote, failiure is not an option from that famous quote.

Thank you

Mark

Aw thats so nice a poem Mark.
Nothing wrong with being open minded its a good thing really x

Really lovely Mark.
Open mindedness is awonderful quality to have.

The copyright (spelt it incorrectly earlier) means that if you have put a copyright on it, it gives the copyright holder the right to be credited for the work. Once they are on the internet, they are open to the world. Obviously if you have them stored and dated you can prove they are yours.The best way to do it, is to post the originals of them to yourself by recorded delivery and then don't open them. This means that no one else can profit from your work, that is if you catch anyone, and only post if you are sure you want your writing made public.
Hope this helps.

Thanks for your comments and advice x

ALIEN CREATORS
---------------------

A ufo inside my mind
the first effect of all mankind
a precious stone made of gold
of their coming we were told

The sky opened and down it came
from underneath a burning flame
this glowing disc was all abright
the aliens said "let there be light"

Creating the earth in seven days
giving strength in all their ways
life came first it was the plan
so stupidly they created man

Man knows not to start a war
no alien intervening that was the law
how to save from self destruction
a nuclear war of multiple abruption

Our alien friends who teach and bind
constant thoughts inside our mind
watching over from our birth
untill one day we ruin our earth

We know the outcome and our fate
once it starts it is too late
who will have the final word
there will be no chance to run scared

So is this planet an alien creation
our humble world our population
think what you want its up to you
but then maybe the bible is true......

Thanks for reading

Mark

Hey Mark, you are good!

This poem brings to mind 'Was God an Astronaut' by Erich Von Daniken.

http://www.daniken.com/e/index.html

Do you do your own poems Granny?

Yes, I do Lightning. Try it, it's good fun, or maybe you do already!

Okay ,but you better not laugh if i make a cockup.

Thanks again Granny, yes ive seen a few tv progs on him, i love different theories of life.....


BEYOND THE FRONTIER
---------------------------

Looking up, the stars i see, the glimmering twinkes of a galaxy
saturn, jupiter, venus too, mercury, saturn, and neptune
mars, pluto and our earth, a picture of beauty from their birth
a man on the moon in 69, "Houston we are doing fine"
Neil Armstrong was his name, and this speech was his fame
That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind
now thats a special verse that will stay in your mind
space travel is nowhere complete, so many obstacles for us to defete
intergalactic travel, a home on mars, teleportation and nuclear cars
so much to see but yet unexplored, a whole vast network, a gift from our lord
one more leap there is to go, before mankind can surely go
where no man has gone before, to stardate twenty thirty four.

Thank you

Mark

You're my man, my mighty king,
And I'm the jewel in your crown,
You're the sun so hot and bright,
I'm your light-rays shining down,

You're the sky so vast and blue,
And I'm the white clouds in your chest,
I'm a river clean and pure,
Who in your ocean finds her rest,

You're the mountain huge and high,
I'm the valley green and wide,
You're the body firm and strong,
And I'm a rib bone on your side,

You're an eagle flying high,
I'm your feathers light and brown,
You're my man, my king of kings,
And I'm the jewel in your crown.

- Nima Akbari

Do you like this one Granny and Tranquil

Yes, I do like it Lightning. You find some really unusual poets.You should try to write some yourself!

i will try Granny xx

Lovely poem Lightning, yes try to write some, if youre sitting anywhere noisy move to a quiet place, relax, dim the lights, free you mind, think only of words and the rest will happen as it should!

I started writing poems in my youth i was a big fan of Hip-Hop/Rap and used to write my own, basically its the same thing, todays Rap has far too much swearing in it and is pretty mindless, early rap had meaningful lyrics, about growing up on the streets, life, love, most of it these days is about sex & drugs, i kind of grew out of it and started listening to Tangerine Dream and other groups that came out of the Berlin School of Music, ie Kraftwerk..

If you get the chance have a peek at this, its Tangerine Dreams - Cloudburst Flight, i think this song sums up life perfectly, Starts off Slow, has a peak, then slows down again..

[youtube]http://www.youtube.co/watch?v=oiTBccgJBCQ[/youtube]

Mark

I will try Tranquil. am more into art than poetry but i do like it.
would love more of yours on here.

Just had a look and listen to this really nice, well done Tranquil

Look all around me and notice the flowers grow
Theres bellbells and tuplips all in a row.
The fresh scent uplifts me and makes me smile.
to see thease pretty things in life ,makes it all worthwhile.

To Granny and Tranquil x
made this up by myself.

Well done Lightning.

That is such a pretty little poem. Very sweet. Now you have startd, you must continue!

Will do Granny, you keep yours comming as well xx

Thats superb Lightning, is that your first ever go?

1 or 2 more verses with that would be amazing, well done

Yes it is Tranquil,glad you like it.
I will try more today to share with you and granny.
You both have a nice day x

Here's one for Springtime.


SPRINGTIME
Pixies riding bumblebees,
Fairies in the blossom trees,
Dresses made from crocus flowers,
Getting wet in sunshine showers.
Snitch snatch Elves swing high and low,
Catching dew drops as they go,
Bathing in the buttercups,
Chasing tails of little pups.
Daffodils with trumpet heads
Calling blue birds from their beds,
Dandelions for this year’s clocks,
Lambs are gambling in their flocks.
Fairies chasing damselflies,
Underneath the bright blue skies.
Playing pipes and ancient horn,
Blowing bubbles, popping corn.
Garlands made, this first of Mai,
For fairies on their special day;
Weaving ribbons round about
A hawthorn pole, then in and out.
Dancing, singing fairy songs,
Nature truly does belong
To fairy folk so very small,
Their springtime is the best of all.

© December 2007

Aw nice one Granny xx

Nice poem Lightening ,so you made it up all by your self with no help from Miss lol

I will make one up for you be back in a dicky ticky