Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Tush...where is X Runner when you need him?

poetry anyone? :):D

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Are you implying that I am impolite:confused:
Here is an impolite poem for the fell stallions on this forum!:D

IMPOLITE

there were no red satin sheets
no candlelight or champagne
there was no soft music playing
no sweet scent of roses or violets

it wasn’t civilized or romantic

it was primitive, savage, raw
this fire
that burned out of control
this need
to pull away the silk trappings
and take you
like a dark, fierce stallion
kept away
from the mares much too long

there was no polite conversation
no hand kissing or whispers
of sweet nothings in your ear
no slow dances in the moonlight

it was hot and sweaty, dirty
and you
wanted it that way, didn’t you?
to feel
the hard edge of a man’s lust
thrusting
against the limitations of your
imagination
hidden in a dark copse just once

so i took you more than once

between the tall fell mountains
pressed against a cold damp earth
insane with lust like a rowdy mare
kept from the stallion too long

(by Don Juan Amante
Rated "PG13" by the Author)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by XRunner

Are you implying that I am impolite:confused:
Here is an impolite poem for the fell stallions on this forum!:D

IMPOLITE

there were no red satin sheets
no candlelight or champagne
there was no soft music playing
no sweet scent of roses or violets

it wasn’t civilized or romantic

it was primitive, savage, raw
this fire
that burned out of control
this need
to pull away the silk trappings
and take you
like a dark, fierce stallion
kept away
from the mares much too long

there was no polite conversation
no hand kissing or whispers
of sweet nothings in your ear
no slow dances in the moonlight

it was hot and sweaty, dirty
and you
wanted it that way, didn’t you?
to feel
the hard edge of a man’s lust
thrusting
against the limitations of your
imagination
hidden in a dark copse just once

so i took you more than once

between the tall fell mountains
pressed against a cold damp earth
insane with lust like a rowdy mare
kept from the stallion too long

(by Don Juan Amante
Rated "PG13" by the Author)

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Oh no, on the contrary X runner I had rather thought you would be a night in shining armour!....this is poem is quite something..............phew!........;)

Top of the morning to you all...especially all those back at work!

Spell
Kate Clanchy

If, at your desk, you push aside your work,
Take down a book, turn to this verse,
and read that I kneel here, pressing
my ear where on your chest the muscles
arch as great books part, in seagull curves,
bridging the seasounds of your heart,

and that your hands run through my hair,
draw the wayward mass to strands
as flat as scarlet silk-thread bookmarks,
and stroke my cheeks as if smoothing
back the tissue leaves from chilly,
plated pages, and pull me near

to read my eyes alone, then you shall see,
silvered and monochrome, yourself,
sitting at your desk, taking down a book,
turning to this verse, and then, my love,
you shall not know which one of us is reading,
now, which is writing, and which written.

Life is not certain.
If you want a guarantee,
Then buy a toaster.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Life is not certain.
If you want a guarantee,
Then buy a toaster.

---

Class!!!!!! and how true Harry you wise ol boot! :)

Chance Encounter.

A fleeting glance her eyes like polished jade,
In a second i'm taken lost in the maelstrom,
Struggling to resist the feral plans i can feel she's made,
I'm pinned to the floor as the flame haired beauties eyes hold me to ransom.

She moves over smooth like a panther and speaks,
Come with me let's go for a walk in the trees,
Then she amazes me and says i've wanted to meet you for weeks,
My words caress her defining her beauty with ease.

We reach a clearing under vale of night with only the moon for light,
A gentle touch on the base of my neck she has me,
I put my arms around her waist and kiss she doesn't fight,
Making love in the woods we shall never again feel as free.


By Matt Harmston

Alone in the world.

Alone in the world,
Trapped inside a dark emptiness created by myself,
No one can help as they cannot pierce the barrier,
My own nuclear exclusion zone impossible to enter,
Many have tried but they just give up after a while.

Alone in the world,
Twenty five years of self sufficiency,
Starving the seedling of my personality,
Devoid of water turned to dust,
I can no longer nurture my ability to interact.

Alone in the world,
No one really knows me and that's what i want,
It's a choice i made a long time ago,
If i don't know who i am i don't see the point,
Why should i burden others with this empty vessel,
I would rather be Alone in the world.


By Matt Harmston

Love 2.

Love is it physiological reactions to external stimuli ?,
Does it exist ? Should we mate and move on, Is it a lie ?,
Can we measure it with tools and with science,
Hooking up ourselves to every appliance.

No love is something that can't be explained,
Not ever in words although some have claimed,
It's ethereal,amazing,wonderful and all the superlatives poets adore,
When you are in love it's evrything there is you need not know more.

By Matt Harmston.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Life is not certain.
If you want a guarantee,
Then buy a toaster.

---

But how can I be CERTAIN of which toaster to buy???:confused:

But then again...

"Certainty"

Not what I tell
But what I’m told
And the faith I posit
The trust I deed the source

And if another time
When thought was young
The map an artist’s
The sea a well

The sky a ceiling
The earth a platter
And storm a semaphore
Beyond decipher

See then my certainty
My confidence my science
And my glib alliance
With mystery and lore

Am I not lucky now
Knowing so much more
Certain of what’s waiting
Behind tomorrow’s door

But what if it’s a garden
And serpents like before



Copyright 1998 by Maurice Leiter

Depression.

I can't cope it's all too much,
Wanting to escape from my depressions festering touch,
Thinking of cutting it's my prefered way,
The game of life i don't want to play.

I'm caught and stopped and carted into a van,
Strapped round the arms and legs to thwart escape plan,
They carry in to my hospital room stitch me up and sedate me,
I can't keep my eyes open no chance of being free.

My hospital room is a glass box about ten feet square,
Nobody else but me is kept inside of there,
The Psychiatrist visits and asks Are you o.k. ?,
I answer would i be in here if i was that way.

I'm told to take an increase in meds,
Then i can go on the ward where there are more beds,
I do so and start to feel better and join the other headcases,
To get to go home as usual i kid the docs with one of my many faces.

I'm at home now don't know for how long,
The cycle just repeats itself in my lifes song,
One day it might be that i never cut,
Until that day i take the drugs keep my mouth shut.

By Matt Harmston.