Spontaneous Poems

I think the second rewrite is much better than the first. No woman wants to be reminded of hair on their upper lip, even when you are mentioning their doe eyes.

How shall I light the fire, dear?
Should I use the Christmas coal
from last year?
Maybe I should toss our dreams
on the logs, and set them alight.
It seems that might be
fine fuel for a fiery duel,
or just an excuse to be cruel.
The flames rise, in orange tongues,
I recall a web strung
from filigree lies,
but all I see are your eyes,
and like a cheap plastic sheet,
I melt in the presence
of your overwhelming heat.

cav thats beautiful, i think thats my favorite one so far ( but i also cant remember many of your others so it might not be)

by the way the 2 poems i showed were separate...'scare you' is not a rewrite of 'doe girl' its the 3rd version of a new poem, ive posted the first 2 versions on this thread also

Ahh, I lost track, but looked back a bit. I liked the new 'scare you' rewrite.

Love with no regret
Isn't always what we get
We win we lose
Our hearts
Get bruised
Dark days
might break us
And yet
We heal
Of those we lose
Ah, if we could choose
To find
That cherished mind
A vow is uttered
This soul
Will find
The love worn heart
Twas left behind

Gelisgeti that's really great! It flows marvelously, and even though your lines are short and rhyming, it reads as a mature poem. That last "twas" feels a little out of place for me though, it seems like you want "that was" not "it was". good job!

You might like these.

Poms

Had a rotten day today, so to speak:

What do you say
to a bad chicken sandwich?
Who was the witch
in charge of putting the mayo
back in the fridge?
I think of the papers,
and a possible heading:
"Your poison sandwich
made me miss
my best friend's wedding."

Right, me too.

I've gone and done it,
there's no more confusing no more debating
just a little bit of waiting, but I don't care because
I've gone and done it already
angels sigh with voices so high a soprano symphony
lifting me up into the sky
keeps me company while I wait
with a rising smile on my face
because I've gone and done it already
whatever the future holds will be my fate
the course is set now, and I don't have to fret
the words are spoken and my path is set
I'm not afraid of what lies ahead
it's time to relax and I think
however it is, it will be alright now
because I've gone and done it.

A journey of the world foretold
as land was bought and then was sold
a castle keep that sees for all
enchanted like a crystal ball
its light reflects a foggy haze
as men could not behold its gaze
surrendering to a mighty light
to gain power of the bravest knight
they lift their swords hooked on fate
casts aside the rusty gate
enter in the sacred hall
to find there's nothing there at all

Hey, everyone; I've been reading your poems with interest. There are some gems here. (By the way, Cav; I am very impressed about your talent's branching out into Armenian puns .)

I have been parched dry, poetry-wise, as I always am in the summer. I have to get into the swing of writing again; and when I need to do that, I often write little plays, for my own amusement. The following is a small part of the Duke of Larisna's first soliloquoy... part of the story is that he used to rule half of the islet, with his sister's uncomely husband owning the other half, Pasatia. The Duke of Pasatia raised up an army of four-hundred men and stormed Larisna, in which only about twenty lived. Most of the four-hundred men were supplied by the evil King of Balita, who wanted a presence on the island. Foolish Pasatia did not know that Balita would take all the island, eventually, for its rich silver. They stormed Larisna at night,-- but we don't know the details of it--; and the Duke was woken too late by his servants.

They took his daughter, Aurora, and where she had lain lay a pool of blood; so the Duke assumed the worst. The Duke was too busy looking for clues as to where they took his daughter's cadaver to raise an opposing army, and so Pasantia called himself king of the islet. Larisna is left with only his second daughter, an uncharming but compassionate and wily Agalia, (whom a servant of the 'King' of the islet would try to take later, who would also govern the island when Larisna had left) his worst but most loyal servant, Osman, and a tiny stretch of beach with a cove and a view of the sea. Larisna is a flawed character, like all of them, but he is one of the most humane, even through his trauma.

I often like to sit upon the sea
And claim its expanse as my own. No one
Can taint its colour to a carcass-red,
Or burn its miles in savage love of wrecks.
How peaceful is the sea, even when wild,
And uniformly shows the sun at rise:
Never is it drowned in itself.

drom, Your exposition is flawless, although not necessary, because the poem is so excruciatingly visible.

Wow! You guys are getting good. How did you write all the beautiful stuff so quickly.

the words come quickly
then they fade
in my mind
a quick parade
I write them fast
sometimes their dumb
sometimes I grasp
but there is none
I find the words
that come to light
I put them here
within all sight
sometimes they're good
sometimes they're not
sometimes they
never hit the spot
but they are always
can't you guess
they are always
spontaneous

Steps



The life, the teachings, and paths that are taken,
Sometimes take us to unexplored territory,
Places in our life that we never see.

These places we go for a reason,
Why we are there sometimes we have no clue,
It was a choice in our past that has gotten us to our future.

Learning from others, and from our own mistakes,
We wake up each day, unknowing, waiting,
For that next door to open, to take a step and fall.

Falling we are thinking of what happened,
What brought me here, is this what I wanted to do,
For some people they do not care, others it makes insane.

It is with great patience that we deal with what is a head of us,
It is dedication that we live form day to day,
Just waiting for that chance for another door to open.

Today is that door that we stepped in that has brought us here,
Making that fall, that step in to friend ship, to take a chance,
We not only did it as an individual, but as a whole.

It is this that we look at when we reflect on how we go here,
It took us a decade to get this far, along with commitment,
And a leap in to a sea knowing that we would be rescued.

It is now that love is more powerful then before,
For now it will be tested in its strength,
Knowing, feeling, trusting, believing, is the key to survival.

With all my love, and all my heart I plead to you,
Do not give up, look ahead, for we have just begun.

Very nice message there, D-beck. Welcome to A2K! Drom, you embarrass me with your talent.

Barefoot,
in soft panther steps,
she approaches the precipice,
extending like a howl
over an ancient ocean bed.
"Nowhere to drown anymore,
just an endless dry sea
of rocky crags,
and the ghosts of those
who came before me."
The sun, behind her,
casts its gaze upon
the skeletons below,
turning bleached bones
into radiant shades
of gold-tinted white.
She turns around
to face the light,
and lets her demons fall
softly below,
like a feather blown from
an angel's wing.

The sad clown
in hues of faded greasepaint
and tattered clothes
gazes at the empty seats
and begins to dance
a slow waltz of moods
in oversized
awkward shoes

good stuff cav

Today,
the sun refused to rise
and I was left in nightmares
of false expectations,
caught between the empirical
and the existential.
It seems the pessimists were right.

The streets below are dark.
Upstanding citizens
use their flashlights
to beat each other into submission,
frenzied by the lunacy
of the now eternal moon.

perhaps we should rechristen this the "shrink thread"?

I blame drom for encouraging everyone here to read Sylvia Plath.