A poem

[paco]

I've tried to make it, today, but today became tommorrow and tommorrow became eternal...

[mensa-maniac]

I've tried to make it, today, but today became tommorrow and tommorrow became eternal...

The key word here is 'tried'

Without trying you can't win, but you win with trying!

Trying is Winning

Send in your poetry give it a try
You may even win she said with a sigh
Naw, I said, my words are not big
Just continue she said, and further your dig

Big words or little words conveys a message too
If you don't try you cannot win, so let your words flow through
But if you try and still don't win
You've really won because you begin

You've really won because you tried
Proscrastinators have often cried
And left things undone to late
Winners who try don't have to cry, they state

In choosing a title it was easy to decide
Try try and try again are words to abide
So use these words for future endeavor
Try try and try again are words that are so clever

[Is.]

Can one post stuff here? Here's something,

Nothing has changed

Water from above
Can you hear it singing
Over forgotten grounds
Now, see all anew

Fingertips touching this
A strange land
Nothing has changed
Just water from above

Oh, I can see
Come play in rainlight
Boundless love is this
And dry leaves turn wet

Heart is beating
Body is heavy
Nothing has changed
But, all is seen anew

In the light
Drip, drop
Just is
This

[Carl G]

Great, another poetry thread!

Two nudists in Dover
Being purple all over
Were munched by a cow
When mistaken for clover

[Kunga]

i wrote this when i was 16/17 years old (for a Shakespeare class)



the rocks that rumble silently are mine....
earth sounds i hear...beat rolls across the room...
i scratch the beat that dead-created time...
and weave into this solid mass...time loom....
rock is the photograph of times ruin....
continuation clings like a disease...
yet the living sleep inside a tomb...
entertaining themselves with memories...
winding antique clocks under christmas trees...
ignornat of timeless and flawless days...
writting diaries..painting the seas...
chisling emotions from time-stain clays....
and i pity us...if we too follow...
these blind hypocrites...in time they wallow....

[auroraamber]

Great poems from you guys!
I was trying to put a little emotion on this and I think its really nice to reflect this on our lives. I really like and appreciate it.

Hope to see more from here.


Best Regards,
Amber
glucosamine chondroitin

[Kunga]

I've tried to make it, today, but today became tommorrow and tommorrow became eternal...

THIS IS PACOS' POEM

Paco....instead of your poem being in sentence form..
it could of been written in verse form (as poetry)...

I've tried to make it today
but today became tomorrow
and tomorrow became
eternal....


or something like that...your poem was mistaken for a sentence/statement instead of a poem
(me thinks)

:)

[Carl G]

Great poems from you guys!
I was trying to put a little emotion on this and I think its really nice to reflect this on our lives. I really like and appreciate it.

Hope to see more from here.


Best Regards,
Amber
glucosamine chondroitin

I love poetry, too!

Welcome to the board.

[Kunga]

I like it Kunga, a call for joyous action! A warning against the dangers of too much reflection.

Still, the one before it had nudists in it. You can't beat that. Even if they did come a cropper of a cow.

thankyou..dejavu...it kinda rolled off the brain ...like someone else did it through me.....it was inspired by rocks falling from a shelf on my bed....i loved to collect rocks as a kid... :)

[Carl G]

OMG, I loved rocks as a kid, too!

[Kunga]

LOL...then as an adult i got stoned...lol

one time as a kid i found some antique marbles (beautiful crystal-like sparkling things)
but i lost them...lol...
i lost my marbles !!!!

[johntoh]

Time wins and no one else,
You and me are mere puppets.

For once you feel you can have fun,
He makes you repent
With His twists and turns.

Even the slightest impudence you show,
He has His ways of punitive throw.

A glimpse of times that we forgot,
Brings in light, the cause of all thwart.

For me now there is no ambit for atheism,
As in everything I find only Him.

[IJesusChrist]

I love all of it,
poetry is a rythm of truth.

I'd like to share with you something I hope you enjoy reading, it's not a poem, and please, atleast read one;

I'm sitting looking at my cereal bowl its a great one, of shiny leather like no spikes have ever dawned upon my crescent's view of eternity. I really would like to lather in its expensive and lavish poverty-smeling essence, but it has passed me for another, a cord, a chord, something that vibrates so deeply in my mind, my neurons become dislodged and float around until devoured by a carcass of my former being. This disgusts us all, as well as the infinite and the impossible for they are not beings or entitys, but rather a inbetween of nothing and something, always indescribable. My vocabulary is becoming slim as a spit our the split out of the rest of my conjunctions and volumes of intricate texts. I no longer can see the purple sliding from the trees that always fill my poetic license's view. It only encompasses that which one would describe as fertile. A land so bright and blue that the whales would envy it's silk. I wouldn't dare determine its origins for it is quite beyond the black abyss which I call home, and I would look rather foolish to express any type of understanding, yet a firey ember would love to push itself forth, to unsheath its slender meaning. Inside that slain, I don't think we're going to make it.

•
Sitting under,
Full of wonder,
Thinking funny,
Completely sunny.
•
The shade is great, must be fate
I can see the grass growing.

My feet are warm, without a storm
I can feel the grass growing.

Looking up to the leaves, they hold the keys
I giggle at the grass growing.

The branches spread, a tree well-fed
Oh, the grass is growing.
•
Across the field, I see a fool - he's running ever so funny
I imagine it, a picture in my head, as if he were a silly bunny
His legs are thin, his face a huge grin - he's got on a hat of wild
As he prances and as he bounces, he seems not a fool, but a fairly quick child
I still sit - under my tree, and be watching the grass grow
And as it does, and as I giggle, I seem to sense his flow
He approaches, but does not talk, but rather laughs a little
A chuckle escapes and I stand awake and question him with a riddle:

"You sir fairy, so agile and airy what is it that you do?
I see you here and I see you there, but never asked to you.
You seem so pleased and seem so happy, what is it that you keep?
I wish to see, I wish to smell that secret within you deep.
I sit here too, under the blue, thinking of the day,
but in a way, I wish I could, but never can I stay.
So what is it mister? Exactly exactly what is it that you do?"

His giggle was simple and quick to me
And he pointed to his nose "Can't you see?"

He did a jump and spin, his leather shoes a-flop
A little hand motion and then a whole body drop
He sat on the grass that was growing.

"I hear the breeze and I feel its tease
Right on my frontside and back
I swing from the branches and play in the trees
Until I tire and sleep
I sit on the rocks, and care never for clocks
As they just tell you how much time you have left
I think never of tommorrow, That will only bring sorrow
This is true for all
Think only today, as tommorrow never to stays
I hope you can see this for sure
The now is forever and you will see this
Because it's not only bliss, it's nature's sweet kiss -
Let it be known to you
So now you see? It's not just me
It's how you think of today."

I woke from my dream to see a new scene
And now I can see the day.
I wonder of now, and just exactly how
That little man got that way.
I will visit him again, a little now, a little then
But finally, I see the day.

I'll leave it at that... they are numerous.

Please more poems?

[paco]

Once, in a blue moon I hear the sounds of angels cry!

When, they are around, I put on a frown!!! Angels cries! loud and gray! Even though my heart is a million miles away; I can hear angel's cries, today...

[Tomhargen]

In Between

The sky calls,
to my grounded feet,
as the sea calls,
to my dry eyes,

But still I'm bound here,
in the land of nothing,
of in between.

How my shoulders yearn,
to stretch and unfold,
to let the wings and feathers free,
and soar,

And my legs yearn,
to come together,
to form thick chords and sinews,
and let the water rush over my scales,

But still I'm bound here,
in the land of nothing,
the land, of in between.


Demons in the Dark


"The Darkness shows not shadows,
Nor beast or crawly things,
But more evil and petrifying still,
A man, shrouded in black"

A child,
Looking out the window,
Seeing his own,
Innocent reflection,

It's dark out,
And visions flit through his mind,
Transparent and fleeting,
But still they terrorize him,

What does he see?
Not a many headed beast,
Nor a blackened prowling wolf,
But something much more alien,

A man standing in front of him,
Weilding a gun,
Or a knife,
Or another of man's Obliterators,

"The Darkness shows not shadows,
Nor beast or crawly things,
But more evil and petrifying still,
A man, shrouded in black"

The one lingering image,
Shows the true evil in men,
-The children,
oh, the children!

The thought of men,
Strikes fear,
Into the hearts of our children,
Blackening them, passing on the evil,

"The Darkness shows not shadows,
Nor beast or crawly things,
But more evil and petrifying still,
A man, shrouded in black."


Never to Convalesce

Love flows like mercury,
A flow of molten ice,
Oblivious to vice,
Obscene in victory,

Time flows by plans of mice,
But flows never the less,
On route to death's address,
An ending will suffice,

A heart's a strange device,
Alleged eternity,
As prey to time as we,
Becoming less precise,

A flame is loves caress,
But leaves such injury,
When under perjury,
never to convalesce,

Love flows like mercury,
But flows never the less,
As prey to time as we,
Never to convalesce.

[Steven Coyle]

A man walked into a stone, but only to his surmise did it never begin