Wow, you're really good at writing peoms! I like to write poetry too, though I don't think I'm very good. If you want I can post one or two of my peoms, but they won't be as good as your's.

Does anybuggy else like to write poetry?

You like my poems? I never knew I was a very good poem writer. I mostly write fiction stories. Sure, you can always put poems on here (as well as anyone else). I read a poem on the Chatterbox not to long ago and it was really good but I cannot remember who wrote it.  I have an idea, this Poems thread can be for poems that people write. So now we can have a poem thread!

@ Ashlee: Those are so good! I sometimes write poetry too. But isn't that always the way it goes? It's always longer when you first think it up. Then you try to actually write it down, and it's significantly shorter. But yeah, I sometimes write poetry, occasionally it's accepted as something worth while by someone other than myself! ;)

Okay, here's one of my many, many poems:

The Voices of The Earth

Voices

Hundreds, thousands of voices

All clamoring to be heard

Surging up through the ground

Singing down from the heavens

 

The Voice of A Tense Silence

Around a table full of related strangers

Screaming at someone, something

To speak, to make some noise

To bring peace to this divided scene

 

The Voice of A Blissful Quiet

Of two people so completely in love

Singing, lulling, peaceful

Filling their hearts to brusting with bubbly happiness

Just to be there, together

 

The Voice of A Heated Argument

Between two angry parents

Harsh, raised voices, choked sobbing

Ending with a single slammed door

 

The Vpoice of Playful Squabbling

Between a bunch of unruly siblings

Laughing, teasing voices

That argue just for the sake of it

 

The Voice of The Wind

On a cold, stormy night

Wailing, whistling, shrieking

Woeful laments to the moon

 

The Voice of A Breeze

On a balmy, August day

Bringing salvation to the dusty, parched land

Stirring the sun-scorched grasses and rustling the dead leaves

 

The Voice of a Drizzle

On a warm, April day

Sun-soaked, light, dancing rain

Bringing a tast of the summer showers to come

 

The Voice of a Summer Shower

On a steaming, blistering day in August

Sudden and short, mild and airy

Soaking everything in second

 

The Voice of A Thunderstorm

Thundering down on a sleepy, quiet village

The bright flashes of iightening

Forked and splintering like tridents

The rummbling snores of thunder

Like a fist pounding the horizen

 

The Voice of A Simple Rainstorm

Tapping, throbbing against a roof

Pattering on window frames

Bringing a whif of icy freshness

Warning of the coming winter

 

The Voice of Early Spring

Singing fresh life into 

Every ich of the rich, brown earth

Waking the sleepy, yawning animals

Coaxing them out of their warm burrows

Urging new growth into each seed

Making flowers bloom

And the bees buzz

 

The Voice of Summer

Singing warmth into the earth

Making the trees flourish and blossom

Telling the rivers run slow and sluggish

Slepy and thick with mud

Telling the sun to beat down on the hard, dry earth

And the showers to fall, maing sure it doesn't die

 

The Voice of Autumn

Whispering of the rest to come

Turning the leaves bright colors

And making them crich under foot

Telling the plants to bear fruit

So there may be a plentiful harvest

Making the the maple sap run full and strong

Painting the land with rich warm colors

Red, gold, orange, yellow, and bronze

 

The Voice of Winter

Lulling the land to sleep

Whispering to the soft snow to fdrift and swirl

Blankting the land, like a mother tucking in a child

Singing tales of desolation and despair

Spreading frost in sparkling sheets

To comfort the trees and plants

Whispering to the animals of 

Warm burrows and cozy dens

 

The Voices of The Earth

Telling the sun to shine

The moon to glow

The tide to ebb and flow

The breeze to rustle

The rain to pound

The seasons to change

The world to go round

And the universe to stay in balance

~

So, that was one of my poems, hope you like it!

@Ashlee

My poems tend to turn out longer then I'd meant them to be when I put them down on paper. It's weird. Like this  one, it's soooo long. I wrote one about death that's four pages long. SoI guess we have the opposite problem.

 

Corina that is a great poem! I could never write a poem that is 4 pages long. I remember reading a poem before and I think it was called The Wise One Calls, is that yours?

I am
falling,
falling
deeper into
this black hole
than I have ever
gone before

And this time,
I'm not
sure
I'm going
to make it
out
alive

 

^^^That is one of the poems I wrote. This is one of the few good poems I've ever written^^^

Corina I found out that some posts are brought to the very back (or close to the very back). That is where I found some of my posts that are new. I don't know why it is set up like that but that is where yours is most likely at.

Maggie your poem is very nice. I wrote four other poems last night and I am going to put them up. And today I have so far written 1 poem. 

 

Here are my 5 newest poems:

 

The Sounds of Music

 

We look for hope, 

We look for answers,

We don't know where to start,

We sit down and wait patietly,

 

A song turns on at noon,

A song of hope, 

A song filled with answers,

A song that you enjoy,

 

The sounds of the song fill the room,

The sound of this song paints pictures,

This sound writes a story,

This sound creates the song,

 

We all stop to listen,

As delightful sounds fill our ears,

As the busy sounds all stop,

And everyone smiles,

 

This is the sound of hope,

The sound of answers,

The sound that makes us smile,

These are the sounds of music.

 

Here is my next poem:

 

The lights of the night

 

The sun goes slowly down,

The moon comes up,

The first real light of night,

The moon smiles down on us,

 

The children are fast asleep,

The dogs' barks fill the night,

The first star comes out,

This is the next night light,

 

All you can hear is the owls,

And the barking dogs,

But the light is the center of the night,

The moon's light covers the paths,

 

All throughout the night,

Stars will fill the sky,

Stars will shine their light,

The moon always shining bright,

 

It is like a silent fashion show,

While each star tries to be the brightest,

The moon will always win,

These are the lights of the night.

 

Here is my next poem:

 

Poetry can paint

 

Poetry is the words,

Poetry is the sound,

Poetry is the picture,

Poetry is the paint,

 

When it is read,

The words fill us,

When it is read,

It paints a picture,

 

Writing poetry makes you,

An artist,

And a writer,

Poetry is an artist too,

 

Poetry cannot talk,

Poetry cannot make sounds,

But with the help of a poet,

Poetry can become art,

 

Poetry is words,

This makes sound,

And paints a picture,

Poetry can paint.

 

Sorry about all these poems. Here is my next one:

 

The storms of Fall

 

I can hear the wind in my ears,

I can see the falling rain,

I can smell the wet grass,

I can feel the coldness on the window,

 

The sun is hidden behind the clouds,

The flag blows in the wind,

The animals hide in their homes,

While the rain falls in a rhythm,

 

The amazing rain water's the plants,

The wind might be strong,

But it is part of the storm,

The flowers sing as it rains,

 

The clouds let the sun rest,

The rain lets the farmers sleep,

The wind is just having fun,

While the storm goes on,

 

This is a fall storm,

It is our little friend,

As it visits our town,

This is one of the storms of fall.

 

Okay here is my last poem for today:

 

My Little Tree

 

My little tree so small,

It shall never be tall,

My little apple tree so thin,

It shall never win,

I enjoy my little tree,

 

It has no apples,

Everyone likes the maples,

My little tree is so green,

It has never been mean,

I enjoy my little tree,

 

I watch it grow,

It grows so slow,

The other trees tease it,

I grew it from a starter's kit,

I enjoy my little tree,

 

My little tree will always smile,

It might take a while,

For it to grow strong,

But to me it will not be long,

I enjoy my little tree,

 

Every day I watch,

Even if it is not top notch,

My little tree is so wonderful,

Even if it is not so colorful,

I enjoy my little tree.

 

Sorry that there are so many, I just wrote a bunch last night. I wrote the first four last night while it was raining, and the last one I wrote today while it is windy. I really like number five.

 

 

Upon the hill-tops at midsummer's eve

 

@ Maggie:

Wow, your poem sounds remarkably like some of the sadder poems I've written. Usually about death. And they're the ones I'm most proud of. Yours is better though, so good job.

@ Ashlee

I like your writing style. It's very nice for peoms!

Corina your poem is very good! I can tell that a lot of your poems are sad but for some reason that seems to make them better. I still have no new poems right now.

Here is a poem I wrote about a tree in fall losing its leaves to the coming of winter:

The Phoenix
Her feathers
turn to
fire,
burning bright,
red, yellow,
orange.
One last
blaze
of glory.

The dreaded,
long
anticipated
end.
Slowly,
the frost
creeps up
her body,
spreading
to her wings.
The feathers
shrivel
and dim,
their glory
eclipsed.
One
by one,
they take refuge
on the cold floor
and crumple into
ashes before her.

The phoenix
stands alone,
no fire,
no song.
She watches
helpless
as the frost
dominates all.

 

This one doesn't have a title yet:

I asked her how
she did it 
and she
smiled,
bending down
and retrieving
a candle.
Flickering
and bright,
the candle 
burned.

With two fingers
steady,
she pinched
the open flame
and broke
a piece off.
She said 
it felt like
ice. 
Cold
and solid.
It did
not burn her.
But between 
her two fingers
all I could
see
was the flame.
Flickering 
and bright.

I left 
that day
with fingers 
and heart
burned,
face blazing red. 
I will never
hold fire
like it is ice 
or break 
off a piece
of the flame
and hand it 
to a friend.
I am…
less. 

Nice poems Blue Moon! My favorite is the first one.