Tag: truth
group name: poetryforall
|
August 18, 2007 06:44 PM EDT --
You slither slowly
through the garden grass
trying not to make a sound.
Slowly spinning tales made of lies.
Others don't see the real you
The snake
They don't see your underbelly . . . more
|
|
April 11, 2008 11:59 AM EDT --
Deep inside shattered dreams,
tucked behind
ripped out seams
of disrepair... . . . more
|
|
March 09, 2008 02:42 PM EDT --
Perfection's lunacy lives...
In sidewalk cracks
where weeds take root,
In pots with cracks
where . . . more
|
|
October 29, 2006 05:24 AM EST --
I saw this ad one day on my TV.
So I grabbed a pen and quickly wrote it down.
Something about it made me want to see
for myself what untold gems there may be found.
(Edited version of first four lines . . . more
|
|
November 11, 2006 10:20 PM EST --
I do not want to sweep the floor
nor wash the dishes any more
or mow the grass, or make the bed
my cooking skills have long been dead
I open a can when I want to eat
the dust keeps gathering round my . . . more
|
|
October 22, 2006 06:12 AM EDT --
I would appreciate any constructive criticism about this poem so that I could become a better writer. Also how do you feel about it?
If my mind were like a closet
and I could go inside
I might . . . more
|
|
February 04, 2008 09:02 AM EST --
I open to you like a flower blooming,
unveiling a beauty
even I do not recognize.
Who is this women before you?
You wash over me
and the layers fall away;
I no longer recognize who . . . more
|
|
February 22, 2007 05:58 PM EST --
How easy it is for the fire of your words
to spread to me,
igniting my calm spirit,
making me fight for my very existence,
and for my right to believe.
I am not you,
You are not me; . . . more
|
|
January 16, 2008 07:39 AM EST --
Listen to the bl eat ing,
as the wind frolics
in the field.
Can one discern,
without ch eat ing-
the lambs and goats,
and wh eat and weeds-
all together as one?
. . . more
|
|
November 14, 2006 12:44 PM EST --
Am I ashamed of growing old?
To ask this question I am told
should not be asked. To be so bold
to ask about my growing old
has all been studied and foretold
by ones who like to scoff . . . more
|
|
July 12, 2007 10:37 AM EDT --
I see so much of myself in you...
It scares me.
I don't want you to be like I was,
learning the hard way,
your heart breaking at every turn.
I see myself in you,
in the men you choose . . . more
|
|
March 18, 2007 11:31 AM EDT --
There are some things in life
We all have to do ourselves.
Like dying.
Or saying, "I'm sorry."
Or deciding to learn in school
Instead of goofing around.
Or deciding what . . . more
|
|
January 24, 2008 10:03 PM EST --
The Vanishing God
Go home, old man, turn to your bed
and draw the covers to your eyes;
there is no papa in the skies
to hear your prayers,
were you to dare to frame them.
No spirit hovering?...to . . . more
|
|
May 25, 2007 12:47 PM EDT --
As a a little girl
it was easy to pretend,
dressed up in her grandma's clothes;
Laughing and playing, she could be anyone
from her head all the way down to her toes.
She . . . more
|
|
December 16, 2007 03:42 PM EST --
You avoid me,
run in fear when I call your name;
Your heart pounds,
your soul longs for me,
but you avoid me just the same.
Deep inside your shattered dreams,
there amidst . . . more
|
|
December 04, 2007 12:15 PM EST --
As always, what I was hoping for in criticism, was the art of the work...its consistency, appropriate or inappropriate use of metaphor, its appeal to the reader, its effectiveness in making a point. . . . more
|
|
August 10, 2007 06:54 PM EDT --
Maybe I can really fly
Maybe what I dream is so
Maybe stone is really sand
Clay held in a hand
We simply haven’t come to know
Maybe what we see ain’t light
Maybe . . . more
|
|
November 17, 2007 10:44 AM EST --
Some’a you folks will hear just what I’m say in’
Some’a you folks will know just what I mean
All of us folks have got to stick . . . more
|
|
October 13, 2007 07:45 PM EDT --
An "overcast" of
Words and thoughts blinds us to the
Sky of Awareness.
(c) 2007 RFHay
more
|
|
February 03, 2007 10:48 PM EST --
In the beginning I wanted to be perfect for you.
I would rise early, as you were sleeping,
put on make-up, brush my hair and teeth,
horrified you would have second thoughts
about this brown-eyed Southern . . . more
|
|
|
|