Poetbay.com

Iterations

jim — 2010-07-30T13:29:15+01:00

A long time ago, when I was a vulture,
I spent less time contemplating life�s vagaries.
I dealt with wind currents and thermals.
As a carnivore I felt the oppressive need
To keep my senses alert for carrion.

Still, I dreamed of flying above billowy
Cumulus clouds, a dream I never realized,
Floating, as I did, within the radius of scent.
When I was a sleek white-tailed deer
I twitched with fear of mountain lions, or�

I knew not what. When the weight became
Too much I retreated to the forest and hid.
When hunger became too much, when the sun
Broke through the canopy, I went to browse
The tall grass prairie, pluck the choicest seeds,

The tenderest blades, thoughts of danger
Tucked conveniently away until the pangs
Were assuaged. I remember being a turtle,
A snake, a wolf, a vole�there are more,
But they are distant. I cannot grasp them.

That I am a man is troubling. My instinct
Is uncertain, often wrong. I rely much on faith.
Was I ever a poor man, a homeless man?
Perhaps this is my first human iteration.
It certainly feels that way. I am so bad at it.

metaphysics

alarian — 2010-07-30T12:07:48+01:00

the scientist thinks of anything
beyond sciences, while the priest
believes in everything beyond his faith

Feel Alive

sana — 2010-07-30T10:30:46+01:00

O Lord of all the busy moments I pass by
I stopped today for a moment and took a sigh
Had a deep breath into life and a quick memory drive
I remembered and realized I am still ALIVE.
I have a life and I can feel
tear drops in the corner of my eye i can conceal
I can smile at little things
and I can fly without wings
I can be angry at you and for little things I can complain
With all good and the bad I still sustain
Thank u o Lord for this feeling
Feeling of feeling Alive :-)

Death by Ridicule

Kathy Lockhart — 2010-07-30T04:02:56+01:00

There's shotgun blasts tearing through my soul
Ripping out the heart and leaving a jagged, oozing hole
Riddle and rippled, jarred, roaring lightening blast
Firing through and through, hitting hard and racing fast.

Standing all alone facing the squad of certain death
Staring unblinded, breathing what is my last breath
Watching the Wicked snarl in vicious, gleeful grins
Laughing out loud as their voices fire and fire again.

Hanging, dangling by thoughts of what was meant to be
Swinging by the threads that once held pieces of me
Now look upon the shooters and see if you are there
I just don't have the time because--

who would even care?

WORDS OF NEVER BEING

Satish Verma — 2010-07-30T03:03:35+01:00

In unaligned loneliness,
tonight, a liquefied moon
will fill up my glass, and my shadow
will sit beside me and we will drink the pain.

Lets�s settle in twilight of stars
and think not of violence of crawling
and inflicting damages to each other; I will never be
myself again during the random dark.

The end of punishment or punishment
of ending were drawing very near,
dotting the landscape. All the budhas
are assembling to wash our sins.

Give me some bones to fix the knees,
I have lost my golden throne in
the dazzle of wounds, the flames
are lifting the red sky.

Satish Verma

UNTILL I ARRIVE

Satish Verma — 2010-07-30T03:02:42+01:00

Stunning yourself,
after setting ablaze,
circumbulating the tied down god in center,
you start a death dance

for the wasted limbs. How far the
self-immolation was justified
for the young pond of hyacinths?
And as I moved away from this stupidity,

the rains arrived to fill the streams;
glaciers decided not to melt away.
Time stopped me in my tracks to hold
my pen firmly and open the craft page.

Here the street now burns to make
sufferings taller than rewards. You
lie still in the sea of blue pains, waiting
to set fire to strawberries.

Satish Verma

BRAND NEW HIGHWAY

Daybreaker — 2010-07-29T22:18:40+01:00

There's a silence in my head,
a great big nothing to endure.
Our love hangs by a thread
and we can't do nothing about it, for sure.

I wish I could love you another way
where simplicity would be my guide.
It's hard to achieve though it's easy to say,
and in that sentence we hide.

We played peek-a-boo for far too long.
The game turned bitter, black and sour.
We danced to the beats of a sad, sad song
as we let ourselves get devoured.

If only a storm had come our way
to cleanse the air between us.
We then could have faced a brand new day
to nurse our love, my precious.

But the great big nothing is in the way
and the blue skies are here to stay.
So I wave farewell from my driveway
and watch as you drive down your highway.

PROJECTIONS FROM ME TO YOU

Daybreaker — 2010-07-29T22:17:43+01:00

There's a ferris wheel in your dream.
The people in the carriages are exactly what they seem.
They are projections from me to you.
Get to know them, I advise you.

The man in the black suite
holding a Dahlia by it's root.
His gaze - intense and clear.
He knows what's going on here.

A girl with long, dark hair, black.
Her face is split by one irregular crack.
Albino cat licking her scar.
Brain tissue like jam out of a jar.

Dressed in her favourite scarf, veiling her hair
an elderly lady filled with wisdom, empathy, care.
She can sense your every emotion, good as bad.
She's the most honest friend you ever had.

The newborn infant, all nude and innocent.
A blank page with the most amazing sense of scent.
He can smell it all, love, betrayal, guilt and shame.
In the end we think they're all the same.

These are projections from me to you.
Get to know them, they're inside of you.
There's a ferris wheel in your dream.
The people in the carriages are exactly what they seem.

[2010 07 30 NEW] Community Poll - Site Improvements

Editorial Team — 2010-07-29T22:02:03+01:00

Currently, all of the material (texts, pictures, private messages & comments) which is posted on the site by a member is deleted when the account is removed. Many members who remain on the site have raised the question that the removal of the comments left against their work is a shame.

Some of you may have noticed that this causes the comment total to be different than the actual comments which you can view for a text.

Question :

We would like to know your thoughts :-)

Should the comments be left when a member deletes their account or not ?

The account itself and all other material (texts, pictures & private messages) will obviously still be deleted.

Community Poll by Technical Team
Editors' choice / Tech / Announcements & Surveys
Posted on 2010-07-30 at 06:45 CET

[2010 07 30 UPDATE] Community Poll - Site Improvements

Editorial Team — 2010-07-29T22:01:54+01:00

Hi everyone,

First, thank you to all who have submitted their thoughts on this poll. It’s been really helpful :-)

THE OUTCOME :

A compatibility issue with the browser Safari & PoetBay’s website has been discovered thanks to jim reporting the problem he was experiencing and his solution (thank you!).

In its current inherited state, we can confirm that PoetBay is Internet Explorer & Firefox compatible, meaning in those browsers, all of the pages on the site are displayed as they are supposed to be. The incompatibility issue for the browser Safari evidently will need to be corrected.

Also submitted was a request for a chat feature suggested by Magnus Ericsson (thank you!).

We currently have work in progress for the site which needs to be completed first. So, it is not something we can do right now. It’s a good idea, so we’ll probably have a poll in the future.

As for being directed to the Inbox or My Page at login, every participant’s poll input has been taken into consideration, and seeing as though most like either one of the 2 options, and some have a distinct preference between the two, I’m happy to announce that I was able to go with the suggestion that was put forward by Poetic Prince (thank you!) whereby each member gets the option to decide for themselves.

THE NEW FEATURE & WHERE IT IS :

The choice to select a preference between the 2 options is now available to everyone on PoetBay through the account Options – under the “Do not show my bookmarks” checkbox, there is a new checkbox “Show my Inbox at login”.

For those who want to sign in and be directed to their Inbox, you will need to check that box in the Options page and then save the new settings.

For those who want to sign in and be directed to their My Page, you don’t need to save any new settings because it is now the default account startup page at login.

THE NEAR FUTURE :

The next Community Poll is coming up after this update. We really appreciate your input and hope you will keep on letting us know what you prefer :-)

A REMINDER :

If you need to contact us by email, remember to add our email address into your email contacts (or safe list) in order to avoid the possibility of having our response to your email sent to your junk/spam folder.

Sincerely,

Isabelle

Community Poll / Update by Technical Team
Editors' choice / Tech / Announcements & Surveys
Posted on 2010-07-30 at 04:16 CET

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you sign in to your PoetBay account, would you prefer :

1. to be directed to your Inbox (as it is now)

OR

2. to be directed to your My Page ?

Community Poll by Technical Team
Editors' choice / Tech / Announcements & Surveys
Posted on 2010-07-08 at 16:18 CET

Empires

Christian Lanciai — 2010-07-29T20:54:28+01:00

Empires crumble to dust,
and nothing remains but delusion,
the acid bitterness of lost hopes,
the desperation of futility,
the incurable sense of failure,
and thus they all went down -
Jerusalem and Egypt, Babylon and Persia,
Athens, Rome and London,
and America will be no exception.
The truth is what survives,
the sordid underground reality,
the moles that always remain
to grind new empires to pieces,
the will that triumphs over all politics,
the destiny that reduces dreams to ashes,
the downfall of all hubris of eternity;
and all we have is shades of what we've lost
and never can retrieve again,
on which we always start again
to build new empires.

THERE WAS THIS MAN AND THIS HORSE

ken d williams — 2010-07-29T19:45:37+01:00

I know this man

Who fancied him self

A bit of a horse whisperer

One fine day he spotted, a horse

In a field all a lone all by it self

It looked rather mean

Black , black as night

Combustible as the blackest coal

His hoofs scraped the grass

The man walked in total confidence

Unperturbed he walked right up too

Right up to the horse he went

Nose too nose

Man's nose too the horses nostrils

The man breathed

The horse dropped dead

That man had halitosis bad!

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Poet

moments of love

libyanrose — 2010-07-29T18:02:44+01:00

Un forgetful man

However I try to forget you
To rub you from my memories
I found you hanging up tightly
As climber try to not fall down
Try to struggle for live,
Refuse to give up,
Going ahead to reach the top
With excitement and fear
With dream to be un forgetful one.

Long night

A long night within my moon
How can I bide to go on alone?
Possessed by sadness and pain
Surrounded by cold and darkness

A long distance

How can I replace my heart with another?
If you still there beating as first day
First time when our hearts bounding together
Our destiny has written to fall in love, and suffer
We are living apart, and distance
As two balance lines never cross,
Never met in a point
They are just walking lonely
Until the end sign........

Men I Have Known

jim — 2010-07-29T17:57:08+01:00

I knew a man
that was kicked by a horse.
He lost his front teeth.

I knew a man
that was kicked by a horse.
He lost his bottom teeth.

I knew a man
that was kicked by a horse.
Missed his jewels by a hair's breath.

I knew a man
that punched a horse on the nose.
That man was me.

The funny thing is
I don't know that many men.

It is time

J. E. — 2010-07-29T17:34:23+01:00

Ice particles
form in my sweat
walking through the streets
smelling

I do not build cities

the glitch

alarian — 2010-07-29T17:26:48+01:00

you might increase
the power of a word
by telling it twice quite literally

the waiter's waiter
is rather more offensive
than the waiter alone

the son's son is born
there is a word that tells
the same: the grandson

but here comes something more ambivalent:
the idiot's idiot might as well
be someone that isn't like in the use
of a double negatives

An Artist�s Eye is Like a Camera

jim — 2010-07-29T16:58:04+01:00

Rolling flint hills, prairie grass,
a panorama of earth and sky so vast
that rust-still windmills, loafing cattle,
entire farms, even towns become incidental.

Brilliant, pristine, galvanized, corrugated,
sunlit grain bins, NASA new,
startling against a clear-air, high-desert tableau
of sage brush and shimmering horizon.

Rail cars on a siding, a weathered feed store,
a faded grain truck stopped in sharp shadow,
a cowboy stepping from the cool of a cafe,
squinting in the noonday sun.

Dust hanging in still air after a pot
of bawling calves barrels down the road.
Passing images exposed, waiting to be released.
Passing images lost, but for the artist.

untitled2

alarian — 2010-07-29T14:56:02+01:00

the sign of
the eyelid's curb
is a mark of disdain

untitled1

alarian — 2010-07-29T14:53:19+01:00

maybe every thought
is an unidentified object
in the real world: here a cup,
there a leash left unnoticed
quirk on the table and timeless

HIS LOVE YOUR PAIN

Your Heart Is Mine — 2010-07-29T08:20:24+01:00

Laugh or cry
Do or die
Try to explain
His love your pain

Some will others won't
Live a lie
Well I don't
His love your pain

If I had a girl like you
I would need quite a few

Women on the side
To keep my equilibrium

One for the hard times
The others for uncertainty

Unfaithfulness you call a crime
This is his plea for mercy

Laugh or cry
Do or die
Try to explain
His love your pain

Some will others won't
Live a lie
Well I don't
His love your pain

I hear ya baby
What are you going through?
His love your pain

Tell it to the church
Your girlfriends sick and tired
His love your pain

Love and pain
Pain and love
His love your pain

Copyright, Nathaniel London Jr. 2010
In conjunction with Mai Lu S. London
All rights reserved by author 2010
A Poetically Speaking Production 2010

GENTLE WAS HER TOUCH

Your Heart Is Mine — 2010-07-29T07:48:14+01:00

She stood so close to me
I could sense the tension
Her heart in a quiet rush

Spoke soft in a whisper
Here's my name and number
Be sure to keep in touch

Not to be mislead
Mistaken for a crush
Every chapter read
Gentle was her touch

She didn't know how to kiss
Didn't know how to hold me
She has the ways of a good woman
Gentle was her touch

She didn't know how to move
Didn't know what words to say
She has the ways of a good woman
Gentle was her touch

She stood so close to me
Memorizing my cologne
Let her hair slightly brush

Her eyes sent a message
I'm twenty years younger
Still I want you so much

Not to be mislead
Mistaken for a crush
Every chapter read
Gentle was her touch

Gentle was her touch
Gentle was her touch
Gentle was her touch
Gentle was her touch

Copyright, Nathaniel London Jr. 2010
In conjunction with Mai Lu S. London
All rights reserved by author 2010
A Poetically Speaking Production 2010

Redemption

Christian Lanciai — 2010-07-29T06:36:42+01:00

How could you be so quiet
for so many years of suffering,
my love, who never vanished from my sight
however much you tried to hide yourself away,
but you were always there, I tried to reach you
and was never quite without you,
until you so suddenly appeared again,
like some redempion angel from our heaven
reaching through all darkness of my soul
to prove yourself a true as ever.
Blessed be thy light and soul,
so true to your nobility,
so constant in your loveliness;
and all I need now is to see you 'live again
as the realization of the truth of our relationship.

Away

jenks — 2010-07-29T01:56:38+01:00

I am not here today
I am away with the fairy
Who dances with wands
Bestowing stars.

What a pretty girl
She is...
Young and fresh and perky
In body and in mind
Kind to new impulses.

As I look into jaded eyes
Insistant on yesterday
I click my heels three times
And wonder how some newness
Can arrive to the ancients.

Arrive to the ancients.

I want to be away
But must stay
In this glue
Until the pages are flowing freely
Or the book is closed.

Suffocation

-YeNuShA- — 2010-07-28T19:09:32+01:00

If any of this is not real,
Is it justified that I go through so much pain?
Was I born to live a lifeless life?

Sometimes I feel so misplaced
If only I could forget
Or even better
Erase it all

And just for once be really happy

If life is meant to be lived
Why am I being denied of it?
Why always this comparison?
Why does she make me feel so suffocated?
Why can't she see me as I am?

This is not a passing phase
This is a curse I have to bear with
The punishment for a crime I don't recall

Yet I have no hatred for her
Only pity

Everyday I wake up in this
Never-ending nightmare
This feeling of deja-vu
This knowledge I will always lose
No matter how hard I try
To win this battle for my life

For it seems that
Nothingness is what
I am destined for
Happiness is what
I am denied of.

Y�nusha

My Polynesian Dances

Stan Cooper — 2010-07-28T15:58:36+01:00

I dreamt I lounged in far-off Polynesia
A great place to lounge �cause, there, loungin�s much easier
Any far-thinking man could easily predict
I would dreamily become a Polynesia addict

I found myself dancing the Polynesian Hula
Compared to the jitter-bug, the Hula�s way cool-a
The maidens I danced with were dressed to the hilt
In grassy green skirts, and WOW, those maidens were built

A blind man could see I was visibly shakened
When all of a sudden, I was crudely awakened
�Up and at �em�, my sergeant obstreperously blasted
My sarge and grass skirts were sharply contrasted

So back to K P with it�s unpeeled potatoes
A far cry from dreamy Polynesian tomatoes
But I survive this damn army regime
Escaping in more of my Hula-ing dreams

by Stan Cooper�7/2/10 graphic by Don Hunt

Sterling, Colorado in July

Lawrence Beck — 2010-07-28T14:45:01+01:00

Still low, the sun only lights the top
Of the elevator, and wispy clouds.
Main Street, shadowed, remains at
Peace. I am on it alone. I have nowhere
To go, and my lack of direction has left
Me pleased. I can turn to the south,
To the railroad, and follow the unused
Tracks, the trail of grain, to the elevator's
Base, or I can turn to the north, to an
Ocean of corn. Tiny town, in shadow,
Later in light and moving, the sum
Of existence, for me, for now, perhaps
Forever; I have nowhere else to go.

Two Million and Well More (Plutonic Sonnets 162)

Rob Graber — 2010-07-28T14:17:58+01:00

Two million and well more was the estate
That Percy�d left, and though he�d made provision
Quite gen�rously for his surviving mate,
That she should have it all was her decision.
She�d tried to break his will, and she was beaten;
But by that time, in 1925,
Well over half the estate had been eaten
Away by legal costs; barely alive
Was the observatory. I have read:
Those who love money won�t be satisfied
With money. And the Reverend Gemmell said
In �54, when Constance finally died,
This �benign witch,� who�d lived so for the dollar,
Came to her lonely end in �opulent squalor.�

Tales from a Forensic Toad.

NicholasG — 2010-07-28T13:28:00+01:00

I pace.
because the human race
Is a jumble
And I mumble
At our displacement
We're all hell bent
To be elsewhere.

And I muddle
Befuddled
In mud to the knees
While all the seas
Gain momentum
I search for an addendum
With a blank stare
And a desire to be impaired

We are so many
After the same penny
A great big bunch
At the same lunch
But the cutlery
Has become deadly
And soon we may starve

Well Love, there's stories I could tell
About syndromes of hell
Them that left me to roast
But then, I must not boast
Cause the fact I'm here
Fills me with cheer
And you, dear...
Are the icing.

The Lost Children

jim — 2010-07-28T12:58:29+01:00

I knew where they were�
beneath the spreading limbs of the towering pine
among the fallen cones.

Though, when I thought to look
I couldn�t find them.
Thought it odd the older folks didn�t know.

It was too awful to imagine�
lying cold and hungry, or dead,
vanishing slowly, absorbed into the humus.

Instead, I thought of fidgety babies
on a bed of soft needles�diapered, feet kicking,
waiting to be picked up.

the broken in mustang

alarian — 2010-07-28T11:54:28+01:00

the pain is a
rite of passage

in the lab

alarian — 2010-07-28T06:46:49+01:00

away from the body, the pain disappears

Scars

baby Blue — 2010-07-28T01:39:23+01:00

Bad scars, bad!
So ugly, so wrong.
Not sosialy accepted.
Punish them, punish me.
We're just allike,
just the same.

Bad scars, bad!
Gotta hide, pretend.
Not sosialy accepted.
problem is I want it.
Want it so badly,
cover me in scars.
And the shame.

Bad me, bad!
So ugly, so wrong.
Not sosialy accepted.
Want to feel, hurt for real.
Oh the sensation,
the gentle touch of a razor.
Calm, cold and lovely,
salvation by an ice flame.

A Quote

workoutrules — 2010-07-28T01:21:00+01:00

Stay out of my head,but my heart is always open

Stride

jenks — 2010-07-28T00:21:54+01:00

I stride
Wherever I want to go...even
Around my alamo sometimes.

One foot after another
Strides out at my pleasure and
My heed as I need to travel to
The places I keenly love that are mine.

Lovely journeys at my fingertips.

I stride very well and easy
I move my luck along with me...
Movement is a great joy I will
Sigh to lose.

I stride towards those baby steps
That lurk in shadows waiting
To rob me...
But not yet
Not yet.

I run
Very seldom.
And I move all day...
At my stride.

the trip that leads me away from the place of broken hearts...

Angellike — 2010-07-27T23:35:37+01:00

late at night

im doing well

but i think of

our fight

with words i

just cannot spell

cause it hurts too much

you hurt too much

Im just a girl with

a broken heart

and it leads me now

to a second start

where there no longer

are any chance for us

I look at my clock

while waiting for the bus...

Blue Suede Shoes and Leotards

jim — 2010-07-27T17:57:32+01:00

Coming of age in the Age of Aquarius
Fatherless, among the corn and wheat fields
On the plains of Nebraska, being, perhaps,
A little awkward, finding himself cultivating
A dramatic flair�long hair, the right music,
Smoking wild pot reaped from roadside ditches,
Developing nicotine stains on his fingers,
Working hard for them�unfiltered Camels
Smoked down to nothing speeding the process.

When the locals begin to lose interest
He goes west, bounces around, lands in Oregon
Cultivating new fields having left a trail
Of head shaking and good riddance.
He has the part down cold, but can't settle into it.
He has the props�the hair, the 'stash, Pooneil.
It doesn't add up. He's B list, miscast.
Almost, but not quite, leading man material.
It's elusive. It's hard to see what's missing.
Something about being fatherless I'm thinking.

THERE IS ALWAS SOME ONE THERE

ken d williams — 2010-07-27T16:51:23+01:00

There is always some one ,

Flesh and blood ,

Young or old ,

A he or she ,

Or so what ever ,

A deity , who can say ,

In spirit , no one can know ,

Maybe more than can be ,

Yet be realised ,

There is always some one there

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Poet

Truly

Wonder Woman — 2010-07-27T16:10:24+01:00

I'm tired of being tired
of this life undesired

I want to run , and run away
for I lack the strength to stay

I'm tired, completely of everyday
of tomorrow and its sameness of
yesterday

of the weights on my shoulders
of my house getting colder
of this softness getting harder
of the wounds getting broader
of the pain sneaking deeper
of the noises getting louder
and this anger growing larger

I'm tired of this fire within me
of these feelings being thirsty,
and this heart dying hungry

I'm tired of the lonesome in
my mind
of all the trembles,undefined
of all the love, the emotions
I couldn't find

for the care I must still give
for humankind

skeletons

alarian — 2010-07-27T12:50:04+01:00

-yes, i found the flashlight!
-and what do you see?
-we ain't gonna get out of here!

farewell my love

libyanrose — 2010-07-27T11:30:54+01:00

Farewell my love
My first and last
Farewell my past
My present has gone
No days will come
After you the all gone
No spring any more
No birds will sing
The all silent , the all dumb
My nightmare became true
I am living it for real
My world from now and so on
Will be without you
I am living alone
My heart swears never love,
Never share my heart
Your place , with another
Never let the love blow
Near my window
Or step near my door
Bye and bye for who was
Bye and bye for who will come

When pain was love

nature — 2010-07-27T11:03:29+01:00

I smiled and laughed in confined spaces of zinc walls where tears and blood once ran races but left no traces
When pain was love
I cried, but danced in dreams where you played the lead and sang music acoustic to my hearts beat
When pain was love
I died a thousand deaths but lived a million life�s with no regrets, no shame just eternally rejoicing in you feeling the same intensifying this flame
When pain was love
I didn�t crawl or walk I sawed above where angels fly, the clouds are goose bumps left in the sky
When pain was love
I had nothing but took comfort in knowing I had everything cause I had you
When pain was love
I looked forward to when day gives way to night cause you�d be by my side until night becomes day again
When pain was love
I walked bare foot in poverty invested streets, where glass cut through the soles of feet
Yet you remained all that I need
When pain was love
Loves currency was affection and not the sole basis for nelection to provide what you think is needed, only serves as a deflection
When pain was love
My heart was where you found inspiration too live in a world that�s in a state of desperation for everything that really doesn�t mean anything
When pain was love
I gave all of me and picked apples from golden trees where love grows and inspires life
When pain was love
LOVE WAS all we had and now that its all said and done I need pain to be love again

Keep Walking

Lawrence Beck — 2010-07-27T10:01:36+01:00

Awkwardly, we meet. She asks me how I am.
I'm sure she knows, as all knew, once, how
Much I loved her. All knew also that she didn't
Want my love. She went away. I say no more
Than �fine,� and turn. There is no point to
Speaking of what is already known.

unfold

alarian — 2010-07-27T08:14:16+01:00

The "If only you knew..." from my father
is the type of sentence
that makes reality sound so much
incredible,fictional and unreal.

this pain

zilch — 2010-07-26T21:17:09+01:00

the truth of life is

one day we all have to die

every sorrow is huge

would you give your kidney to your husband

mark nwagwu — 2010-07-26T19:33:24+01:00

we live our lives in orbits revolving
each a planet onto itself
oblivious of the other consumed in ourselves
only the sun knows we exist
casts light on our thoughts
as we run to our true destiny

the meeting explosive fiercely incandescent
one mind erupts the other engulfs
a new planet ensues one orbit created
and love infinite breathes new life in us
as our bloods now flow in one heart unchained
our bodies ecstatic beat drums triumphant

what�s going on separation knocks
we are still one seems something�s amiss
death in the corner of kidney diseased
can�t work no more a new one needed
blood must be refresh'd for hearts in motion
still our planets orbit the sun empathising

first stop his brothers with kidneys matching
all willing to give to restore his life
now being cut off from mine in sorrow
heartless father unknown to kindness
won�t let his sons give kidney to brother
count me out i�m not in on this

inseparable in life inseparable in death
your planet is prism reflecting my hopes
my dreams all written in your boundless eyes
and all you see has my mark engraved
look at me and i am complete
you hold my arms and we dance to the sun

will give you my kidney will give you my soul

the doctors say there is a match
that we are one in flesh prescribed
salt of our birth mixed by the gods
flows to the other to the meeting point
at this confluence of our destiny
all the doctors now need is my dad�s signature

dad please sign and my kidney's my husband's

ten years ago dad gave me to you
he does the same now and signs on dotted line

my kidney in you finds fresh existence
the better half yours and one still in me
my love in oceans will flow in you
i�ll cleanse your spirit and all you hold dear
make your eyes fluid sparkle anew
our life in fresh orbit spins on dad�s axis

the sun seeks us out warms our smiles
we orbit as one in our planet supreme

would you give your kidney to your husband

mark nwagwu — 2010-07-26T19:33:23+01:00

living species

alarian — 2010-07-26T18:26:34+01:00

infinity begins when you cannot count anymore

the springboks must cooperate for they see
what it makes to survive
if you are 2 or 3 or a numerous herd
in the savannah

untitled

alarian — 2010-07-26T18:07:14+01:00

correctness surges you
to let you be drifted by the breeze
and die by the breeze every today and tomorrow:

something quite differs between you and me
people of your kind would have survived
any kind of "cracies"

fragment

alarian — 2010-07-26T17:32:56+01:00

-you say my poems sound clich�d
-indeed
-but why?
-tell me just two words, would you?
-..red...hammer...
-ok, now, let me tell you this:rhymed poetry is quite difficult,
you should start with a rhyme then convey the meaning to the end of the line but not sort of trying to match both at the end

BLIND SIGHT

Maria Christina — 2010-07-26T14:07:13+01:00

Men prefer a cute little blonde
For the obvious delights they'll get.
If only they knew
The delights they miss
When they pass up a tall, big brunette.

Maria Christina
- copyrighted !982

Poetbay.com

Iterations

metaphysics

Feel Alive

Death by Ridicule

WORDS OF NEVER BEING

UNTILL I ARRIVE

BRAND NEW HIGHWAY

PROJECTIONS FROM ME TO YOU

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Empires

THERE WAS THIS MAN AND THIS HORSE

moments of love

Men I Have Known

It is time

the glitch

An Artist�s Eye is Like a Camera

untitled2

untitled1

HIS LOVE YOUR PAIN

GENTLE WAS HER TOUCH

Redemption

Away

Suffocation

My Polynesian Dances

Sterling, Colorado in July

Two Million and Well More (Plutonic Sonnets 162)

Tales from a Forensic Toad.

The Lost Children

the broken in mustang

in the lab

Scars

A Quote

Stride

the trip that leads me away from the place of broken hearts...

Blue Suede Shoes and Leotards

THERE IS ALWAS SOME ONE THERE

Truly

skeletons

farewell my love

When pain was love

Keep Walking

unfold

this pain

would you give your kidney to your husband

would you give your kidney to your husband

living species

untitled

fragment

BLIND SIGHT

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