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Life
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Poetry Workshop
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
The Stars, and the Moon.

 26th of February, 2008,                                             Free Verse, G   

 

     

When it's dark, you smile down on us

With lunar warmth;

Your round face with dark blushes

When you exhibit it in its full glory.

You reflect the light of the sun,

Shining it down on the earth;

Providing the poor traveller guidance,

And serving as a mark of seasons and years,

Guiding the flow of the tide.

 

When we were younger,

We saw everything in you;

Some of us saw the face of a King

And his crown.

Others saw a King in full glory

Seated on his throne;

Yet some others saw a Mother

With a Child in her arms,

Like the Madonna and Child

Found in big cathedrals.

You provide the setting for story telling in times past

 

You; You decorate the sky, glittering like Gemstones in a Cloak;

Uncountable; You gave divine guidance to the Magi;

Announcing the Messiah's coming.

 

Together, both of you provide a sign for Moslems

When you are strategically placed.

When you refuse to live home,

Without your lunar and stellar brightness,

The night is dark.


Posted by omerinine at 7:54 AM CST
Updated: Tuesday, 26 February 2008 8:03 AM CST
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Saturday, 24 March 2007
To Run
Mood:  blue
Topic: Life

To Run

by Courtney John 

 

Born a life of misery
Died a life of death
Cutting my hand
Feeling the blood drip on to my arm then on my black shirt
I don’t’ feel the pain
All I feel is the hollow spot where my heart used to be
Scars plaster my legs from previous cuts
I stare at my bedroom walls
Once white, now stained with blood
My blood
Crying is a thing of the past
My tears are spent
Cutting is a thing of the future
My brother was a victim of suicide
He was my role model
I remember the funeral
Mother and father were crying
Black make- up streaked women’s faces
I was only three so I didn’t understand much
But that day changed my life
Mother stopped making food
Father ran
Two years later father had drown himself
I heard it on the newspaper
To think that I was once happy once in my life
Brings tears to my eyes
As I write this now I hear the boom of thunder
The sirens call their mournful lecture
I race outside to feel the wet rain patter my cheeks

It hasn’t rained for such a long time
I finally feel free
I spread my arms out and smile
I haven’t smiled forever
Then she comes
The monster that abused me for years and years to come
She grasped my wrists and pulls me back inside
To think that I thought I was free
Hopeless
They know
The students and the teachers
They examine my bruises and cuts
They tell me if I need help that I should ask for it
Their the ones who need help                                     
My life is like a wine bottle
The cork is screwed on too tight and I’m drowning
Now that I think about it I should run
Run away from the pain and the nightmares
Run away from mother coming home drunk
Running, running, running
I’ll run like father had
I wonder why he didn’t take me
Did he love me?   
Nobody loves me
I’m an ugly pig faced nothing
As free as a bug trapped in a jar
I took my backpack and stuffed all my junk in
I also pack ten bottles of Mountain Dew
And a pack of stale Girl Scout cookies


I opened my cracked window
And ran
I ran from my memories and my past
I kept running tell I was a good mile away
When mother was nice she said I was a good runner
She’ll probably find me
Although she’s drunk 99.9 percent of the day she’s smart
She’ll call the cops and have them find me
She’ll act like a good mother until they leave
Then she’ll probably beat me or starve me
One way or the other
I finally stopped running when I reached St. Louis Park
I sat at the bench watching the kids run around and laugh
I wish I was like them
To breathe with out worrying
To hug your mother and know you’re loved
 I’d like that
 My head was spinning in dreams
Now I’m back in reality
My supper was a bottle of Mountain Dew
It soon got dark and the people left
I felt alone and cold
There was no way I was going to sleep
I walked down and sat by the crystal clear lake
The beautiful water looked like silk
I could slip my hands through it and wash away my pain 
I laid my head down on the lush cool grass
Then I fell
I screamed and flailed my arms about


I was dropping in a big dark vacant hole
I felt scared and weightless
Then I awoke
It was all a dream
The sun pierced my eyes
The sound of squawking birds filled my empty ears
I got up and ate a few cookies
My pants were wet from the bone chilling dew
I walked over to a bench
What to do
I have nothing to do
I should probably be like a shadow
Not showing my face to public
You never know my face might be on milk cartons
I started walking
I walked past buildings, shops, and every thing in between
My legs started to feel rubbery
I sat down on the back road by a dumpster behind a shop
I breathed slowly
I needed my inhaler
I forgot it
How stupid am I
I’ll just sit down for a bit and relax
I inhaled the chemical induced air
Suddenly from behind the dumpster I heard feet 
I fell silent
I was truly scared
It must be the cops in search for me
I closed my eyes hoping they’d pass


Suddenly I heard some one asking me if I was okay
I opened my eyes
A boy a bit older then me was standing right there
I told him who I thought he was
He probably thought I was crazy or something
He just smiled
He told me his name was Jimmy
I told him what my name was and we became friends
We sat there a while telling each other our stories
He ran away too
Because his parents drank too much and would hit him
I told him he had it easy
Jimmy had shaggy black hair
And an old tattered sweat shirt that reeked of smoke
I never knew how much fun you could have in life
But then I met Jimmy
He showed me how to steal candy bars out of stores
He showed me how to sneak into the movie theater
He made me feel so happy
I even felt like I should go back home and tell mother to stop
But Jimmy didn’t want me to leave
He said he cared about me
For once in my life I felt what it was to feel loved
 It was that warm ecstatic feeling you got in your stomach
 I asked Jimmy if he did drugs
He said no, I was happy
I knew what drugs did to you
I saw my mother’s reaction
I will absolutely never do drugs



 On a Sunday near the dumpsters Jimmy pulled out a gun
I stared at him coolly thinking it was a fake
But he put his finger on the trigger
I panicked
I asked him why he was doing this
His eyes were strangely glazed
Did he do drugs?
He wouldn’t even talk to me
The next thing I knew the bullet went whizzing to my chest
The pain was unbearable
Like the emotions were coming out through my blood
I barely saw him through my blurry eyes
He watched me fall
Then walked away without a tear in his eye
Then my world went black



The subject’s friend Jimmy did in fact do drugs. He was high when he quickly stole a gun and shot the subject. After the subject’s death Jimmy soon woke up out of his hazy dream and remembered what he had done. He felt horrible, for he actually loved the subject. A day after Jimmy committed suicide and shot himself. The subject’s mother did not care wither her daughter died or didn’t. But the subject’s father was actually alive.

The mother gave the subject a fake newspaper and tricked her of her father’s death. The subject’s father was devastated and did commit suicide by drowning himself.



This story is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locals are used fictitously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 


Posted by cookcomm at 7:53 PM CDT
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Tuesday, 30 January 2007
The Man's Hope, by Temitope Otokiti
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Religion

Man hastens for nought and forth

Going up and down the north

From an Irish pole

To seek the pot of gold in the hole

Like a rat in a cage

So does pain come with age

Should man live by bread When he has not got a bed?

Bread comes when the bed is laid

For it is not a man-made Nor words men said

But from God comes the aid.


Posted by cookcomm at 7:29 PM CST
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Sunday, 21 January 2007
To my muse special call Aline, Brazilian Brunnete Inolvidable., by Fabio Ferreira de Souza Junior (Brazil)
Mood:  flirty
Topic: Scenes

             SHE MUSE

 

                                           She muse

                                           Distinct

                                     Energy Divine

                                        Model special

                                        Flower call desire

                               Rose denominated magic

                                    Simple single singular

                             Big air force from bird madrigal 

                     Girl of dream week in paradise celestial

                         You loving me, I am poetry in desert way

                    I am sad for she, I am mine destiny she is she

                              I am love true, false illusion

                              Exercise to live an inspiration

                         Lesson alive in field of extreme emotion

                               Particularly, Really, Simplified motion

                     Camera in the vision limited from origin action 

                         You my very good gift, goodness, brunette invisible

                            You woman of my life eternally visible

                              You death of passion for you my angel impossible

                                 You symbiosis, masterpiece of artist canvas

                                     I am for you fly of winter, water blue

                                          I am flies various in their body

                                            I am having an unlimited access in the skin

                                                I am for you, you and I, par perfect…


Posted by cookcomm at 2:31 PM CST
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Monday, 1 January 2007
A Fine Feeling, by Karanam Rao
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Philisophy

A Fine Feeling

 

 

I wanted to draw a

Fine line between

Between your desires

And  your actions

 

When you gave yourself up

To me (your opalescent

Flesh blinding my eyes},

Pulling down the barriers

 

That stood between us

Like unshared silences.

Until the night moved in,

Not lineally but into

 

Preset circles.

And it’s this darkness

That doled us into

The other side of the river.


Posted by cookcomm at 3:46 PM CST
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Wednesday, 22 November 2006
Thanksgiving
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Life

Thanksgiving

 

England’s king was disobeyed

by Puritans to abandon their faith.

On the Mayflower ship they sailed

through Atlantic ocean waves.

 

On November 1620

a hundred two Puritans came

to the shores of America.

Two months lasted their voyage.

 

They set sail soon again,

and they landed on December

on the Plymouth Harbor beach,

where the nation had begun.

 

Harsh was winter of that year,

only half of them survived,

helped by Cape Cod’s corn

stored by Indians in the sand.

 

With them Indians made peace treaty,

helped the Pilgrims to survive,

in the wilderness hunt and fight

because Pilgrims were townspeople.

 

Being thankful to the Indians

Pilgrims have invited them

to the Harvest Feast,

which for us became Thanksgiving.

 

As we gather at the table

to eat turkey, pumpkin pie, sweet potatoes…

We celebrate and talk about the past

as the Indians and the Pilgrims did.

 

© Artur Wielgus 2006

 

 


Posted by cookcomm at 4:42 PM CST
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my thanksgiving poem to you
Mood:  happy
Topic: Life
my thanksgiving poem to you

 
Turkey, oh, you great big fellow
food all ripe, rich and so mellow
yes what fun,umm what a treat
all the good things for us to eat

what choices this cannot be beat
dinner is ready mom calls to eat
Old tom is nice and oh so round
young and tender tom is brown

thanks being told, by every one
thanking God for everything done
a table being filled, until it sways
the food enough to last for days

sliced meat with dressing galore
everyone now full ,eats no more
bellies are patted are now so full
turkeys wish bone being pulled

a coconut cake, fluffy as a cloud
"oh's" make mom feel so proud
the banana pudding oh so sweet
punkin pie, of course mincemeat

dinner was filling can hardly walk
porch fills up with the men to talk
kids now gatherig, ahh such fun
in games to play and races won

families gathering but once a year
for over-eating in a festive cheer
thanksgiving is remembered well
tomorrow morning upon the scale
love:
 from: a  jenny wren

Posted by cookcomm at 4:40 PM CST
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Wednesday, 12 April 2006
Osazu
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Philisophy
Osazu

Osazu is one of us, a few of the many trapped.
Trapped right in the middle of our very own souls.
Trapped in a nation which has the least feelings or hope.
Trapped because we have so many options yet not one.
So many routes and pathways; yet no ferry.
When a ferry, no ferrymen or ferry fare.
Then they take to sidewalks they were never supposed to tread.
They come back heaping their woes on you, which is right but who’s really?
It is ours; our fathers and forefathers all are a part of juvenile destruction.
Think of Osazu and the rest.
Think of earth when you are all gone; lonely?
Think of all who unlike Osazu fled.
All the troubles, tribulations, joy and pain you pushed them through; just to survive.
Osazuu is one of us!
A few of the many trapped in the middle of depths.
He is one of the youths,
Who absconded in abject desolation and desperation,
In full pursuit of a better tomorrow

Oby Onye
obyuc@yahoo.com

Posted by cookcomm at 8:40 PM CDT
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Thursday, 16 March 2006
The Voice, by Rashni Rasheeka
Mood:  energetic
Topic: Life
THE VOICE



I hear a tender voice somewhere in my mind,
a voice of an angel, that’s how I use to feel
I met her in a secret place, a rainy day it was,
the rainbow and the dancing wind, oh I still recall


She was sobbing when I met her first, alas! still I sigh
Has she crushed her love in reckless hands? that I never asked
“Will you hide me somewhere in your mind?” “Yes” I said at once
She lives inside my whirling thoughts, hush! there I hear her now


When I try to pick some white Lilies, “No” she would cry,
I was chasing little butterflies, there I hear the same
When I play around with hurtful thoughts, yes I’m stopped at once
This kindness which she makes me feel, complicated or maybe soft


I’m a young girl still with full of life, there’s a long way yet to go
And this world is not so safe to live; I mind not saying it’s shrewd
Being delicate as moon light beam, oh! All I get is hurt
“Become the change you wish to see in world”, I hear the angel voice



ROSHNI RASHEEKA
Farawayvoice094@hotmail.com

Posted by cookcomm at 9:47 PM CST
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Saturday, 31 December 2005
Human
Mood:  on fire
[Human]

Why do you hang an innocent one?
Why has the era of bloodshed begun?
Disobey the commandments,
and you're a Christian.
Reckon, are you even a human?

Why don't you live and let live?
Don't just forget and forgive?
Why is a dreamer being held a captive?
No, leave no trespass undone.
And you call yourself a human?

In the name of God,
kill his own Creation.
Love for wealth:
greater than for any relation.
For the guilty,
possess all advocation.
Human, when last did an innocent
get deserved justification?
For all this, hold no valid reason,
Oh yes! Anti to all, you ARE a human!
Such a creature, can only be one.

Posted by anuj-tf at 4:15 AM CST
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