Treasure Island

Writing Poetry

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  • Femme Feeble (1/11/2014 11:20:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies Stage

    I am very uncertain about this; any thoughts?

    How to live:
    It all seems so simple and yet;
    It is much more difficult in execution.
    Fear is stronger than ambition.

    Speak your mind and you are speaking the truth!
    And if it pleases you to extend services of kindness;
    To remain for the sake of patience;
    To exercise your freedom to be generous;
    To look upon each fellow human with love and compassion seething through your pores
    Till they cannot bear themselves anymore,
    Then by all means, live morally!
    I cannot,
    Even though I do.
    But I cannot bear the thought that I might not,
    Only because I like to believe I am wholesome.

    Do not focus only on yourself, for everyone does.
    And they are all as unhappy as everyone,
    Who are just as depressed as you,
    Waiting for something to open up in the line;
    For life to treat them well.
    I am waiting for life to stop treating me well.

    When we are focused on ourselves we cannot see anything.
    Like focusing on one leaf in the whole forest,
    In the whole wilderness,
    In the whole world.
    If one individual gave as much attention to another as they did to themselves,
    Love would be less prevalent than it is.

    But what is life,
    If you don't look upon one person with tenderness and desire,
    Grand enough to stop a converging storm?

    I feel as though I cannot live in such an open fashion
    Until I can look upon myself with satisfaction.
    And yet I look around myself for approbation,
    I feel as though I can never be satisfied
    Through this twisted loop of fear and anxiety.

    True satisfaction is not gleamed through compliments and supportive actions.
    When I reflect on the content of my character,
    I am not pleased.
    Standards so achievable, yet I am so selfish.
    And I wonder if I manufacture all of my tears in the same factory as those nifty, fancy cars from Japan,
    All lined up in a row and waiting to be dispensed at the appropriate time.
    I am searching for an honest emotion, but I have yet to find one that I can be honest with.

    To be secure in one's own self is to be set free; how I long to be unchained!
    For only when I am no longer myself will I be comfortable with my life.
    To be seen as someone I am not, yet exactly who I am,
    That is what I strive for.

    Yet being so open, will my insecurity show?

    Replies for this message:
    • Erica Maples (1/20/2014 1:51:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      i love that poem i think you are the best one that i've ever read

    • Doris Cornago (1/13/2014 5:37:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Hi Femme Feeble: Re: To be secure in one's own self is to be set free; how I long to be unchained! To unchain yourself, you have to find exact spot where you are chained or by what and how. So ... more

    • Daniel Brick (1/12/2014 9:57:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      You said you were uncertain of the poem called FEMME FEEBLE and want feedback. I can do that but here's the context I'm coming from. I started writing poetry seriously when I was 36. I've been writing ... more

  • Terrance Tracy (1/10/2014 11:33:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    It tickles my bones
    and pickles my tones
    to hear dogs bark
    is to hear bogs dark.

    When birds are chirping
    do you hear chirds birping
    as you walk in the shade
    do you salk in the whade.

    When you smell a rose
    it is painful to rell a smose
    when a bee stings you
    does the stee bings you.

    When you smell the mountain air
    you may mell the sountain air
    as you are sliding down to bottom
    you are bown to the dottom.

    The nuances that you read
    are products of anticipation
    in the program of voice recognition
    so don't blame me for what you see.

    Terrance Tracy

    Replies for this message:
    • Doris Cornago (1/13/2014 7:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      This poem is good because of its unpretentious and playful nature. I like poems to be entertaining and flowing like yours, and not so complicated with obsolete words that sends you to Google search ev ... more

  • Mary Amrutha (1/10/2014 10:46:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Let the secret die with you

    Never reveal a secret
    that some one tells you
    shoot yourself!
    but don't reveal a secret

    Never reveal something
    that some one tells you
    because trust once lost
    is lost forever

    Never share a secret
    which can harm ones existence
    what is the need in telling every one
    something that some one tells you
    because of their trust in you

    shoot yourself!
    but don't reveal a secret
    Let the secret die with you...
    Mary Amrutha

    Replies for this message:
    • Doris Cornago (1/14/2014 10:12:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      Hi Mary. I believe likewise but would not go to such lengths as shooting myself. You have the right passion and conviction. Read on what Daniel Brick told Femme Feeble on writing poems, a little longi ... more

  • John Long (1/10/2014 1:04:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Moon rise, moon set. Moon rise, moon set.
    I once read that publishers want poems to formatted in a way, that allows all paragraphs to be equal in the number of lines.
    Not sure how true it is, and I know it's one of the hardest parts of writing poetry. But that's what I always try to do.

    Replies for this message:
    • Doris Cornago (1/19/2014 8:24:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      @John Long: From what I have observed, when you are still an unknown poet, follow the rules. When already known, or if your publisher can be persuaded, be as you are. Unless of course, you have money ... more

  • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 8:14:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    This is the way I would use my free time...

    Tiring Day
    By: Doris F. Cornago

    My mind is like a stairway to the stars
    It goes up and down when I need to climb
    Or it can be like a ship floating to see
    Nowhere but still everywhere, I am there
    But also here, working on tasks, bondless...

    Sometimes my mind can hide behind a door
    None can explore what I feel or think
    But when a man's word touches me, water
    Pours out, in trickles and then in streams
    Unceasing, boundless, flowing without a care...

    Sometimes my mind cuts me off, lost in space
    Spaced out, tearfully angry and inconsolable
    I can lash out with my mind and strike you
    With a sharp spear conjured with my anger
    I'll cut you in pieces and bring much pain...

    Seeing you hurt, covered with oozing blood
    Be repentant and wash you up with tears
    Crooning a song, a lullaby, tuck you in
    With soft hands, lightly pat your cheek
    Give you rest for another tiring day.

  • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 7:53:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I like to think of poems as like everyday conversation in the streets. I stop by a corner and a poem is at the tip of my tongue. A man looks and he speaks indistinctly but my heart catches the end verse and I hastily memorize the words for typing on my Samsung. What you feel or hear is according to the setting of your own heart and mine. So, what comes out every time is a poem. So, a poem should speak fluently, and should touch people. The emotions it contains must be distinguishable. At least, from my own perspective. If I have garbage, I won't throw it in my neighbor's backyard, but make a compost of it to fertilize the ground. Whatever you read from me, I assure you that all has been composted and ready to fertilize your own mind and heart. If you want. The following are the opening lines from my recent poem " Bungee Jump" which tells of two types of man. Choose who you want to be. I did not dump the whole poem here as you can see.

    Bungee Jump
    By: Doris F. Cornago

    This morning the cold wind slapped me awake
    Slept late viewing videos of hunk with spunk
    Don't mistake, it is all for you as instructed
    My mind is full of icicles with your detachment
    and now I see viciousness covered with a thong.

  • Mary Amrutha (1/9/2014 6:29:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    I am not lost

    My mind being empty
    and it is hard to write something
    from an empty mind.
    Where did all the letters go?
    where did all the words go?
    what I can find inside me is nothing
    but an empty soul

    who stole the things
    that I had in my mind,
    I don't know!
    but it is all gone,
    that is what I thought
    I thought it is gone for ever
    but it is not.

    I can,
    I still can
    write something
    I can talk about things
    which I thought that I'll never remember
    I can still speak up my mind.
    I still can write from my mind.
    I am happy that I am not lost...
    Mary Amrutha

    Replies for this message:
    • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 7:57:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      I feel deeply for you, it seems to me you are about to get where you feared you are going. Turn around woman, and take hold of what you still can. If you want. Live your life the way you have imagined ... more

  • Sagar Rao (1/8/2014 12:28:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    If I post poetry here, is it guaranteed that a dated record will be kept?I'm afraid of copyright infringement.

  • Doris Cornago (1/8/2014 9:07:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Are you looking for love?Beware that you might find something else if you keep looking in the wrong places. Or sometimes not, who really knows what you want?This poem expresses one side of togetherness...Actually, another apology...

    Looking At Same Moon
    By: Doris F. Cornago (Phoenix)

    If you walk with such heavy feet
    stay out my way because I can't
    So silly playing a game of chance
    faking romance, do you think life
    can be played out as a dying tune?

    Step nimbly, talk funny, make me laugh
    Love a man who is unmindful of time
    Not looking at watch losing control
    of mind almost looking like a fool
    but yes, responsive to sliding touch...

    Your fingers stepping up in a jazzy
    beat, horns weaving a magic tune
    like a snake entranced by sinuous waves
    of feelings, my mind reeling
    from mistaken recognition of a man.

    Are you with me, am I with you?
    Let's stay companionably together
    You in your corner, me in my own
    seeking warmth from same thoughts
    Together tonight looking at same moon.

  • Rose Nazar (1/6/2014 6:50:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    I'm new to poemhunter, and don't know how it works that much. But I've some poems you guys would like.... Please leave a comment or rate... I'd appreciate that... Thanx :)

    Replies for this message:
    • April Tambling (1/6/2014 12:07:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      I'm new to Poemhunter also but I think we'd all really love to hear your poems!

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