Ponder and reply...
Monday, December 16, 2002 by @shu | Discussion: WinCustomize Talk
Has the genre of poetry lost its charm? I searched for 3 days to find the poem I used in 'Kavita', a wallpaper but got no feedback... 
I was hoping for a surge of feedback...
Is poetry dead????
I was hoping for a surge of feedback...
Is poetry dead????
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JamMeister33
Reply #142 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:09 PM
Reply #142 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:09 PM
Hey Ashu, where you at buddy?
You've been awfully quiet lately...
Hope all is well with you, my friend.
You've been awfully quiet lately...
Hope all is well with you, my friend.
JamMeister33
Reply #143 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:22 PM
"At first, I was iridescent
Then, I became transparent
Finally, I was absent...."
Jefferson Starship - 1970
Reply #143 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:22 PM
"At first, I was iridescent
Then, I became transparent
Finally, I was absent...."
Jefferson Starship - 1970
Angel_Wings
Reply #144 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:29 PM
Reply #144 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:29 PM
Me
On the outside 'me' is funny
'Me" makes jokes much too loud
On the inside 'me' is quiet, 'me' is shy
And not so proud.
Which "me" I choose to show
Well, I guess that all depends
On whether I'm with strangers
Or if I'm amongst friends.
On the outside 'me' is funny
'Me" makes jokes much too loud
On the inside 'me' is quiet, 'me' is shy
And not so proud.
Which "me" I choose to show
Well, I guess that all depends
On whether I'm with strangers
Or if I'm amongst friends.
Angel_Wings
Reply #145 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:30 PM
Reply #145 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:30 PM
Uh. Is it just "me" 
Or did the thread font just grow?
Or did the thread font just grow?
Divine_Dvd
Reply #147 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:35 PM
Reply #147 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:35 PM
...and so is solved the mystery of the growing fonts
@shu
Reply #148 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:11 AM
Reply #148 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:11 AM
Great poetry, all of you. :APPLAUSE:
I am right here JM, I have my examinations going on. So yesterday, the net was out of bounds for me.
I read all the posts on the thread, don't get me wrong, but I think that dark, brooding feelings always make for a better verse.
I don't know, but perhaps grief touches our innermost self. It is a part of the self that we do not readily share with the world. Maybe, that's the reason why poems about grief, sorrow, parting, death, etc are much better appreciated than the rest. Wot say?
I am right here JM, I have my examinations going on. So yesterday, the net was out of bounds for me.
I read all the posts on the thread, don't get me wrong, but I think that dark, brooding feelings always make for a better verse.
I don't know, but perhaps grief touches our innermost self. It is a part of the self that we do not readily share with the world. Maybe, that's the reason why poems about grief, sorrow, parting, death, etc are much better appreciated than the rest. Wot say?
@shu
Reply #149 Saturday, December 21, 2002 12:23 PM
Reply #149 Saturday, December 21, 2002 12:23 PM
I was hoping that someone else would write the 150th message, but it seems like the honour is going to be mine.
Why don't all of us put our heads and hearts together and come up with a poem????
Each person may contribute four lines and if the thread runs to 300 posts, we might come up with a rhyme.
People may want to post other messages too, so the following line must precede your contribution;
'My Verse'
So here's mine.
My Verse:
'As I look at the moon I realise,
That the Darkness within me,
Is greater than the black ink,
That envelopes the Sky I see;'
Why don't all of us put our heads and hearts together and come up with a poem????
Each person may contribute four lines and if the thread runs to 300 posts, we might come up with a rhyme.
People may want to post other messages too, so the following line must precede your contribution;
'My Verse'
So here's mine.
My Verse:
'As I look at the moon I realise,
That the Darkness within me,
Is greater than the black ink,
That envelopes the Sky I see;'
Angel_Wings
Reply #150 Saturday, December 21, 2002 1:32 PM
Reply #150 Saturday, December 21, 2002 1:32 PM
Great idea Ashu ...I'm game.
My verse:
‘And when my spirit seeks the sun
To soak up a million reaching rays
An inner light burns hot and bright
My shadows cast away.’
...I'm game. My verse:
‘And when my spirit seeks the sun
To soak up a million reaching rays
An inner light burns hot and bright
My shadows cast away.’
JamMeister33
Reply #151 Saturday, December 21, 2002 1:41 PM
My Verse:
'But when my darkness blots out even the sky
Still I reach for a reason
and ponder the why
Of life without love till the day that I die'
Reply #151 Saturday, December 21, 2002 1:41 PM
My Verse:
'But when my darkness blots out even the sky
Still I reach for a reason
and ponder the why
Of life without love till the day that I die'
JamMeister33
Reply #152 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:05 PM
Reply #152 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:05 PM
How's that Ashu, dark enough for ya, buddy?
goodmorphing
Reply #153 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:41 PM
Reply #153 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:41 PM
My Verse:
Poised there in free-flight splendor
I come unbound to thought
and sensate rapture has me caught
gliding on nature's ethereal breath I soar
Poised there in free-flight splendor
I come unbound to thought
and sensate rapture has me caught
gliding on nature's ethereal breath I soar
goodmorphing
Reply #154 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:47 PM
I wish we had an edit button... OK to make a little change?
My Verse:
Poised there in free-flight splendor
I come unbound to thought
sensate rapture has me caught
on nature's gossamer breath I soar ...
Reply #154 Saturday, December 21, 2002 2:47 PM
I wish we had an edit button... OK to make a little change?My Verse:
Poised there in free-flight splendor
I come unbound to thought
sensate rapture has me caught
on nature's gossamer breath I soar ...
Kimbabe
Reply #155 Saturday, December 21, 2002 3:03 PM
Reply #155 Saturday, December 21, 2002 3:03 PM
I'm much too exhausted from last minute Christmas shopping to be poetic 
I think all I am capable of now is rap(wrap)
*Kim*
I think all I am capable of now is rap(wrap)
*Kim*
Angel_Wings
Reply #156 Saturday, December 21, 2002 4:18 PM
Reply #156 Saturday, December 21, 2002 4:18 PM
Good going guys! I wonder if there are enough poets in here to end it? Maybe by the end of Jan 03
Kim, yo-yo home girl...keep on wrappin'!
Another Angela pwem (written earlier this year) to throw into the pot...
***************************************************************
Titled, "If only I could heal the world"
There are too many hearts left alone in the universe
So many kind words that are too often left unspoken
Precious, innocent children with no one to depend on
Yet they manage to survive without their spirits being broken.
People living day to day behind cold isolating walls
Sometimes dreaming sometimes screaming down their echoing halls
Wishing someone could just care…to just be aware
That they exist, that they’re worthwhile, that they are there.
There’s an old man sitting in his tattered chair staring off into space
So much pain etched into his sad and yet kindly, well worn, wrinkled face
By himself he faces without friend or family his very last breath
One tear trickles down his cheek as he succumbs to his death.
Little girl sings swinging on a tire swing with a winsome smile on her face
She goes higher, blocking out the sun with her feet, imagining outer space
She shuts her eyes tightly as she dreams of a somehow and of some way
When she can escape the abuse that her tiny body suffers every day…
Johnny goes through life wounded inside, a troubled teen without direction
He grew up in a household of drugs and violence without love, without affection
Bullies tease him at school each day, if only they could just hear Johnny pray
It’s all too much; he gets his father’s gun and finally ends his life in his mental fray.
A woman crouches in the dark calling for help, shakily clutching her phone
Bruises and welts tattoo her body, glimpsed only by the moonlight that shone
She whispers a cry but her throat has gone dry and she’s bleeding much too much
Curling into a fetal position she passes out…the phone still in her clutch.
If only I could heal the world
If only I just could
If only I could sacrifice myself
For the greater good
If only I could heal the world
If I could take away all the pain
I’d make the world a better place
Where people were happy again…
If only…but I DO feel
You are real
Wish I could heal…
And take away your hurt…
*************************************************************************
Hmmm. Ashu, come to think of it...most of my poems are usually on the downer side! I've been writing poetry since I was 13 and I guess it I always used it as a way to get in touch with my feelings that I usually kept hidden. No wonder I hardly write poetry when I'm in a good mood.
Kim, yo-yo home girl...keep on wrappin'!
Another Angela pwem (written earlier this year) to throw into the pot...
***************************************************************
Titled, "If only I could heal the world"
There are too many hearts left alone in the universe
So many kind words that are too often left unspoken
Precious, innocent children with no one to depend on
Yet they manage to survive without their spirits being broken.
People living day to day behind cold isolating walls
Sometimes dreaming sometimes screaming down their echoing halls
Wishing someone could just care…to just be aware
That they exist, that they’re worthwhile, that they are there.
There’s an old man sitting in his tattered chair staring off into space
So much pain etched into his sad and yet kindly, well worn, wrinkled face
By himself he faces without friend or family his very last breath
One tear trickles down his cheek as he succumbs to his death.
Little girl sings swinging on a tire swing with a winsome smile on her face
She goes higher, blocking out the sun with her feet, imagining outer space
She shuts her eyes tightly as she dreams of a somehow and of some way
When she can escape the abuse that her tiny body suffers every day…
Johnny goes through life wounded inside, a troubled teen without direction
He grew up in a household of drugs and violence without love, without affection
Bullies tease him at school each day, if only they could just hear Johnny pray
It’s all too much; he gets his father’s gun and finally ends his life in his mental fray.
A woman crouches in the dark calling for help, shakily clutching her phone
Bruises and welts tattoo her body, glimpsed only by the moonlight that shone
She whispers a cry but her throat has gone dry and she’s bleeding much too much
Curling into a fetal position she passes out…the phone still in her clutch.
If only I could heal the world
If only I just could
If only I could sacrifice myself
For the greater good
If only I could heal the world
If I could take away all the pain
I’d make the world a better place
Where people were happy again…
If only…but I DO feel
You are real
Wish I could heal…
And take away your hurt…
*************************************************************************
Hmmm. Ashu, come to think of it...most of my poems are usually on the downer side! I've been writing poetry since I was 13 and I guess it I always used it as a way to get in touch with my feelings that I usually kept hidden. No wonder I hardly write poetry when I'm in a good mood.
JamMeister33
Reply #157 Saturday, December 21, 2002 6:04 PM
Reply #157 Saturday, December 21, 2002 6:04 PM
Here's one of my all time favorites written by Stephen Stills:
4 and 20
"Four and twenty years ago
I came into this land
son of a woman and a man
who lived in strife
He was tired of being poor
And he wasn't into selling door to door
And he worked like a devil to be more.
A different kind of poverty
now upsets me so
Night after sleepless night I
walk the floor and I want to know
'Why am I so alone?'
'Where is my woman, can I bring her home?'
Have I driven her away, is she gone?
Morning comes to sunrise
And I'm driven to my bed.
I see that it is empty and
there's devils in my head.
I embrace...the many coloured beast
I grow weary of the torment
Can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing...
That my life would simply cease."
4 and 20
"Four and twenty years ago
I came into this land
son of a woman and a man
who lived in strife
He was tired of being poor
And he wasn't into selling door to door
And he worked like a devil to be more.
A different kind of poverty
now upsets me so
Night after sleepless night I
walk the floor and I want to know
'Why am I so alone?'
'Where is my woman, can I bring her home?'
Have I driven her away, is she gone?
Morning comes to sunrise
And I'm driven to my bed.
I see that it is empty and
there's devils in my head.
I embrace...the many coloured beast
I grow weary of the torment
Can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing...
That my life would simply cease."
UBoB
Reply #158 Saturday, December 21, 2002 7:44 PM
Reply #158 Saturday, December 21, 2002 7:44 PM
Jam,...one of my favorites from The Eagles:
"The Last Resort"
She came from Providence,
the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang
heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea
She heard about a place people were smilin'
They spoke about the red man's way,
and how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand
or a place to hide
Down in the crowded bars,
out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
what it's like up there
And they called it paradise
I don't know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
while the town got high
Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
through the canyons of the coast, to
the Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
hungry for power
to light their neon way
and give them things to do
Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
people bought 'em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea
You can leave it all behind
and sail to Lahaina
just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: "Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down
Brought the white man's reign
Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here
We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny and the name
of God
And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it's like up there
They call it paradise
I don't know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye
"The Last Resort"
She came from Providence,
the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang
heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea
She heard about a place people were smilin'
They spoke about the red man's way,
and how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand
or a place to hide
Down in the crowded bars,
out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
what it's like up there
And they called it paradise
I don't know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
while the town got high
Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
through the canyons of the coast, to
the Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
hungry for power
to light their neon way
and give them things to do
Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
people bought 'em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea
You can leave it all behind
and sail to Lahaina
just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: "Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down
Brought the white man's reign
Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here
We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny and the name
of God
And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it's like up there
They call it paradise
I don't know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye
Angel_Wings
Reply #159 Saturday, December 21, 2002 7:52 PM
Thank you motion for your lovely input...
**********************
I am so sad
Reply #159 Saturday, December 21, 2002 7:52 PM
Thank you motion for your lovely input...
**********************
I am so sad
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Reply #141 Friday, December 20, 2002 11:02 PM
Lonely
These feelings of loneliness
They haunt me inside
They take all my strength
My happiness denied
And when I'm with friends
Or if I'm alone
I still get those feelings
From the unknown
Then it occurs
When I'm feeling quite blue
I'm not really lonely
I'm just lonely for you...