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Week 301 (March 1-7). Poems. Topic: *See Photo
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Any and all feedback would be most appreciated The Crossing
By Mahlia
Many wait all their lives
To cross over to the other side
And though we may not get there
Still we try and persevere
And when we stand before the Judgement Seat
We are either cast out
Or brought to enter in
Denied entry leads to the Lake of Fire
Approval to Paradise
Where we will one again see those long past
And reunite with those we've missed
Comments and feedback welcome. :)Title: Paradise
Author: C P Cabaniss
Down a little dirt road
lined with trees
That's where I had
my first memories
Young and naive,
walking barefoot through streams
Then the world turned dark,
everything cold and gray
They came and paved
my paradise away.
High DefinitionJames of Schiaparelli
A meaningless click echoes in the soft wind.
The lens snaps closed, aperture joining for a split second
before retracting once more, a pointless embrace.
Pixels collide, forming an HD vision of the life before us;
Would it not be better to savor the moment, Carpe Diem,
than to preserve it for nothing?
Is still life more valuable than a living, breathing moment?
Though the trees move as fluid, an observer would not realize.
Though wind stirs up demons in the dust, a photo remains faithful.
A moment can never be experienced twice, for it is constantly changing.
The feel of a summer breeze, a wash of water on bare feet,
and constant motion of the world can never be truly shared.
Put down the distractions; view the world through the lenses of your eyes.
Title : Road To Heaven, Road To HellPoet : Edward Davies
The road most travelled’s often paved
With nought but good intentions
It leads to hell eventually
Which no-one ever mentions
It’s filled to bursting with intent
It’s brimming with potential
It’s riddled with intended deeds
And questions existential
Like “What if I had been a man
Better in deed and purpose?
What if I had helped the poor,
Provided them with surplus?”
These are matters beyond our ken
It’s not our place to judge
What things we did were good or bad
Or why some hold a grudge
The road less travelled often leads
To live’s of introspection
Of smug superiority
And quiet introspection
Those people on the less trod road
Believe they’re exceptional
Although they have a partial view
Of life from in their tunnel
They think that what they do is good;
But what’s their motivation?
Do they do good for goodness sake
Or more for adulation?
They might help needy folk and poor
But is it just for show
Or do they really want to help?
I sometimes just don’t know
So whether on the road to hell
Or that to some place better
It doesn’t matter if you live
Life perfect to the letter
Just follow what is in your heart
And try not to be vile
Or you might find the final road
Will wither with your smile
Down to the Creekby Ashley Uzzell
Sunlight peeps through the branches and leaves
To shine down upon my face
The sand is cool beneath my bare feet
As I keep a steady pace
The smells of summer surround me
The whisper of the wind in my ear
The feel of the worn fishing pole
Is a familiar comfort that I hold near
I have walked this path a million summers
I hope to walk it a million more
The trip as pleasant as the destination
Always welcome, never a bore
With my trusty old dog beside me
As relaxed and content as I
We make our way down to the creek
With no cares of how time will fly
We are often gone for the entire day
Every weekend, just him and me
This is the place where I can be myself
This is where I am truly free
Marie wrote: "Down to the Creekby Ashley Uzzell
Sunlight peeps through the branches and leaves
To shine down upon my face
The sand is cool beneath my bare feet
As I keep a steady pace
The smells of summer surr..."
Who's Ashley Uzzell? :D
You used your other name! Ha ha!
Feedback always welcome :) Terror of Silence
By Grace Crandall
The light was dull, and in it shook
The heat of a dying summer;
Moonlight fell, and in it broke
The hopes of a young lover.
For through the musty, heated haze
A shot that shattered all the silence;
And in a petty lover's rage--
An apathy becoming violence--
By the great oak was his grave,
And far, oh far beyond,
She had her final resting place
In the stagnant pond.
Hoof-beats took place of heart-beats gone,
The murderer he fled,
Drowning, with a frantic song
The silence of the dead.
I wish I could give each of these individually the praise they deserve, but I would like run out of suitable words for how much these are each excellent. Grace, I certainly did not expect someone to look at that photo and decide it was a good place to stage a murder. Many of y'all seemed to have taken quite a philosophical route; things we've all heard before, and yet they don't seem trite here.
Edward wrote: "Marie wrote: "Down to the Creekby Ashley Uzzell
Sunlight peeps through the branches and leaves
To shine down upon my face
The sand is cool beneath my bare feet
As I keep a steady pace
The smells ..."
Well, technically, when I publish my poems, I publish as my real name. I just had to throw you guys for a loop this week. I'm BACK!
@Edward thank you! :) I tend to lean towards morbidity when I'm rhyming... XD
@Al morbidity is just too much fun :)
Day on the RoadBy: Gretchen Guerrettaz
sprinting through the trees,
bursting on the path,
dirt caked my feet
powdered between my toes.
sun smiling down on me,
giggles in my throat,
cool breeze kissing my face,
finally free, finally home.
Feedback is welcome :)
Fantasy, a sonnet by Raven/Reibun (Feedback is welcome) I have always wanted to run away
downs paths untread to see the world for once.
With friends I'd meet along the way, I'd stay.
With them I'd learn to fight, and learn to trust.
But no such path has ever come my way.
For nowadays the roads are always paved.
Adventurers are relics in our day.
True friends are few and few are truly saved.
I live my life mostly in fantasy,
What if, what then, that would be really cool.
Sometimes I wish for more reality.
I long for something more than home or school.
Alas it can't be helped, fiction will do.
I should be grateful that it isn't true.
Gretchen wrote: "Day on the RoadBy: Gretchen Guerrettaz
sprinting through the trees,
bursting on the path,
dirt caked my feet
powdered between my toes.
sun smiling down on me,
giggles in my throat,
cool breeze ..."
I love that! Makes me think of Morgiana/Magi for some reason. (Everything makes me think of Magi. XD ((Magi is a Manga/Anime series))
Courtney wrote: "Comments and feedback welcome. :)Title: Paradise
Author: C P Cabaniss
Down a little dirt road
lined with trees
That's where I had
my first memories
Young and naive,
walking barefoot through stre..."
That is so beautiful! I love your word choices. :D This could totally be a prequel to Gretchen's! 0_o
Edward wrote: "Title : Road To Heaven, Road To HellPoet : Edward Davies
The road most travelled’s often paved
With nought but good intentions
It leads to hell eventually
Which no-one ever mentions
It’s filled ..."
Ooooooh I LOVE that! So profound! It's always good to ponder and analyze are true intentions for doing things.
"Down to the Creekby Ashley Uzzell"
Love this, quality time with dogs is always fun. :D
Grace wrote: "Ooh I really love that one!"The poem or Anime? lol
Raven wrote: "Gretchen wrote: "Day on the RoadBy: Gretchen Guerrettaz
sprinting through the trees,
bursting on the path,
dirt caked my feet
powdered between my toes.
sun smiling down on me,
giggles in my thr..."
Thank you so much Raven! I just read yours and it was amazing!! I loved the word choice and I loved how I could relate to it. :)
Gretchen wrote: "Raven wrote: "Gretchen wrote: "Day on the RoadBy: Gretchen Guerrettaz
sprinting through the trees,
bursting on the path,
dirt caked my feet
powdered between my toes.
sun smiling down on me,
gig..."
Yay! I'm glad you like it! :D
@Raven your poem, ha. I didn't see the next comment :)
Grace wrote: "@Raven your poem, ha. I didn't see the next comment :)" Thank you. XD (I figured as much....you don't seem like the Otaku type initially....though I don't really know you yet....so I guess I could be wrong. lol)
HavenI remember the path as clearly as I do the back of my hand.
It's a route I love so dearly, why? even though it's just so bland?
It holds a lot of memories I don't think you'd understand.
It's long, unadopted and well-trodden extent.
I always travel with blissful intent.
To frolic among those tall, broad trees.
Was like heaven on Earth to me.
What is more calming, than the evening gossip of your favorite tree?
Standing tall, oh so carefree.
Just like that I'd want to be.
Proud and free for all the world to see.
The long dirt road, the gossiping trees.
Doesn't that just scream haven to thee?
Exploring it's length, buzzing around like a bee.
Sending my mind on a blissful spree.
***feedback is welcomed.
DARK and GREYWhen wise winds whispered,
Touched the tall tree tops,
Branches opened like arms,
To welcome the silent snow.
Night was, all dark and grey,
Moon buried in loneliness,
Rugged roads remained restless,
While wild winds whipped.
One Day
Hurt —the pebbles under
my bare feet stopped me
from chasing after you.
Still —I sat under a tree
and watched the leaves
turn colors in the fall.
Cold —I braved the snow to
measure the distance you
created between us.
Tired —a gust of wind brought
raindrops, refreshing my
parched thoughts.
Hope —the dawn whispered a
promise, the music of feet
homeward bound.
Hurt —the pebbles under
my bare feet stopped me
from chasing after you.
Still —I sat under a tree
and watched the leaves
turn colors in the fall.
Cold —I braved the snow to
measure the distance you
created between us.
Tired —a gust of wind brought
raindrops, refreshing my
parched thoughts.
Hope —the dawn whispered a
promise, the music of feet
homeward bound.
L A O wrote: "One DayHurt
—the pebbles under
my bare feet stopped me
from chasing after you.
Still
—I sat under a tree
and watched the leaves
turn colors in the fall.
Cold
—I braved the sno..."
I love the word choice and the descriptions! Amazing!!
Feedback welcome.Poem Within a Poem
by Rachel Heinen
Sometimes, it takes more
than a pretty picture of an endless dirt road
to pull a poem out of me.
Sometimes it takes hours
of pulling my hair out with
my little leather journal.
Nothing sounds right.
But I keep writing
all day, everyday
about nothing
and everything
all tangled together
in bad poem after bad poem.
And in the end
the only thing I've written
about that endless dirt road is this:
I don't know what scares me most
the journey or the end.
Comments and feedback are welcome.Title Undecided
Still wind frizzled through the hair,
mini cooper sailed on the open road.
The sun came up slowly warming the body,
ray bans came on the eyes bestowed.
The tie loosened its grip on the neck,
the belt stopped disciplining the waist.
The jacket flew, left the car behind,
and the sleeves rolled up in haste.
Every pore of the body breathed.
Reflexively the leg pedalled harder,
and the eyes saw what they didn't before.
The speedometer limbers towards a 100,
life passes by as we are shut indoor.
Our worries and fears caged within,
slashing away at the life's plinth.
The road is so simple, straightforward,
a distraction from the mental labyrinth.
Snuggling further within the metal wreathed.
One can think of no greater freedom,
than the one of being on the open road,
without a plan or destination in mind,
tagging along wherever the wind flowed.
One can think of no greater freedom,
than the one of being on the open road,
societal chains are left behind,
subjecting oneself to nature's goad.
The encased heart is now unsheathed.
Gretchen wrote: "L A O wrote: "One Day.."
Thank you Gretchen :)
I'll try to read all the poems in a while.
Thank you Gretchen :)
I'll try to read all the poems in a while.
A wrote: "Yay! Leslie! You posted it! :D"
Yes! With a big help from Ryan, haha!
Yes! With a big help from Ryan, haha!
This is What I Rememberby Guy Duperreault (FB&C welcomed)
This is what I remember.
I am in the middle of nowhere.
Specifically I am on a dusty dirt road lined with tall grass and old trees.
I wonder if this is a dream.
It feels like I am in a dream,
My limbs are heavy, dream heavy,
and the colours are washed away.
But I am, clearly, demonstrably, awake.
There is light, the kind of light I’ve read about in books
filled with survivors of death who claim to have seen the light.
I squint at it even as I feel my sweat
trickle down my face and dampen my shirt.
I taste the dust on my tongue, and face,
feel it drying my cracked lips.
I smell the grass, the rankness of my unwashed clothes.
I hear an engine from behind me.
I turn and look.
In the distance I see an old truck fast approaching me,
the dust trail behind it billowing like tawny clouds.
As it approaches I begin to lift my arm, to wave it to stop,
but my arm isn’t moving because I am too weak to lift it!
The truck roars past me without a change of pace.
In the brief moment I have to see through the window
I see only the reflected sun’s light off the windshield,
turning the driver into a kind of ghost,
before I am awash in dust and grit that stings my eyes.
I blink away the dirt-clearing tears.
When I look up I see someone,
or at least the shape of someone,
walking towards me as if out of the light.
My heart begins to race, I am panicking.
I turn to run away, but my feet won’t move!
I look away, but my eyes and head are fixed!
I open my mouth to scream, but my jaw won’t move!
This is what I remember.
Raven wrote: "Fantasy, a sonnet by Raven/Reibun (Feedback is welcome) I have always wanted to run away
downs paths untread to see the world for once.
With friends I'd meet along the way, I'd stay.
With them ..."
Very clever sonnet! Great ambiguity in the end. Loved it.
Lee-lette wrote: "HavenI remember the path as clearly as I do the back of my hand.
It's a route I love so dearly, why? even though it's just so bland?
It holds a lot of memories I don't think you'd understand.
It'..."
I enjoyed this very much! It has a lightness in the language and structure and rhyming that matches perfectly your theme. I had fun reading it. :-)
Guy wrote: "Raven wrote: "Fantasy, a sonnet by Raven/Reibun (Feedback is welcome) I have always wanted to run away
downs paths untread to see the world for once.
With friends I'd meet along the way, I'd sta..."
Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. :D
@Guy- I always look forward to getting your feedback and this time was no exception. Thanks for reading it and thanks for taking the time to 'review' it :)
Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group.
Your poem can be any length.
This week’s topic is:
The rules are pretty loose. You could write a poem about anything that has to do with the subject but it must relate to the topic somehow.
Have fun!
Photo credit: M Ragland