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  • Rookie Emmanuel Prince Ighekpe (2/27/2010 12:29:00 PM) Post reply
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    A Cradle Song

    Sweet dreams form a shade,
    O'er my lovely infants head.
    Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
    By happy silent moony beams

    Sweet sleep with soft down.
    Weave thy brows an infant crown.
    Sweet sleep Angel mild,
    Hover o'er my happy child.

    Sweet smiles in the night,
    Hover over my delight.
    Sweet smiles Mothers smiles,
    All the livelong night beguiles.

    Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
    Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
    Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
    All the dovelike moans beguiles.

    Sleep sleep happy child,
    All creation slept and smil'd.
    Sleep sleep, happy sleep.
    While o'er thee thy mother weep

    Sweet babe in thy face,
    Holy image I can trace.
    Sweet babe once like thee.
    Thy maker lay and wept for me

    Wept for me for thee for all,
    When he was an infant small.
    Thou his image ever see.
    Heavenly face that smiles on thee,

    Smiles on thee on me on all,
    Who became an infant small,
    Infant smiles are His own smiles,
    Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.

  • Rookie Jay Akarim (2/23/2010 8:42:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Broken and Bruised

    His face is bruised and beat,
    Her heart is torn and weak.

    She can't look at her own reflection
    She's saying how she got a messed up complexion

    But the boy that loves her,
    see's a beautiful angel.

    But the girl can't see
    What the boy goes through
    when he's fleeing blue,

    He drowns his mind with alcohol
    While she smokes a bag of weed
    To let her mind be freed
    To escape this reality
    While he faces the brutality
    of his a_ _ getting beat
    getting jumped in the streets
    Gotta gun to his head
    he doesn't know what's ahead.
    All he can think about is that pretty little girl
    that makes his whole world twirl
    Reminisce those adorable lips
    Imagine the way she kiss,
    His head is filled with total bliss...

    plz give sum feedback thanks

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie Winema Suehead (2/26/2010 1:06:00 AM) Post reply

      If I didn't know better I'd say this was my daughters boyfriend, but it dose reflect how every one every where usually goes through the same things. Freedom of expression through creativity and the c ... more

  • Rookie - 98 Points Ronn Michael Salinas (2/19/2010 1:19:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I've just read a poem 'so you want to be a writer? ' by Charles Bukowski.

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  • Rookie - 874 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/10/2010 7:32:00 PM) Post reply

    This poetry form NAANI (Indian Telugu poem) uses 20-25 syllables in four lines, centering on one main topic, but here I used imagery and maintained its brevity.


    Blank space
    Drinks of colored words
    Flow with the writer's pen, his brush
    Splashed a rainbow hued masterpiece.

    June 25,2009 Tarlac City Philippines

  • Rookie - 874 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/10/2010 7:20:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    HIDDEN MEANINGS- sometimes free form is a good poetry form to use for 'hidden meanings' on topics that might excite controversy, like race, religion, and politics. Here the term 'colors' may be taken a such but the end line 'their blood is red' confirms it was about racism. The words are simple but cutting, and it was brief, to add impact.


    Sometimes color
    Clouds opinion

    Sways the heart
    Blurs the vision

    White on top-
    Black below

    Yellow, brown
    These have to go.

    But with one color
    It is said

    All are bound
    Their blood is... Red.

    (June 30,2008, Tarlac City, Philippines

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  • Rookie Luke Reed (2/9/2010 7:17:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies


    Out of the pit of despair,
    Out of a world without hope,
    Out of everything bad,
    Comes a light at the end of the tunnel.

    Save me! Take me!
    Anything to get out of this fate!

    I've had enough!
    I want out!
    I want all my fears to dissipate!

    Alas, nothing can get me out of my fate.
    Or can it?
    Have I been wrong all this time?

    Into the world that is love,
    Into a place full of hope,
    Into everything good,
    And yet, is it enough?

    Help me! Someone!
    I'm being dragged back into my horrible doom!

    I want to go back!
    I want to be saved!
    I don't want to work at the loom!

    Alas, I'm back to my horrible fate.
    Or am I?
    Is there any hope left?

    Out of the pit of despair,
    Out of a world without hope,
    Out of everything bad,
    Comes a light at the end of the tunnel.

    There is always Hope............

    Any comments or suggestions?

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie R Collins (2/15/2010 3:52:00 PM) Post reply

      I don't think you need to worry about anyone asking you to change anything that you wrote. I liked your poem and I agree with what I think that its trying to say to its readers.

    • Rookie Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/10/2010 7:07:00 PM) Post reply

      This is an incisive and deeply intense poem, and the arrangement makes it fast, active, and effective, like a heart beat. I would not suggest or make changes as it is already very strong as it is. P ... more

  • Rookie - 874 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/3/2010 5:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    This poem is written in free verse but maintained a rhythm all throughout, posted in my own site and at other peotry sites, and had great reviews. I used the 'diminishing' ines style and kept the words simple, centering on the idea, with the word 'unkind' as conclusion.


    by Cynthia B. Baello
    July 5,2008

    Annoying thing, this indecision-
    Wry deceit, unjust vexation.
    Waste of time and of attention,
    Diverts one's thoughts,
    Drains affection.

    Creates a maze with one's own mind,
    Directions, goals are hard to find.
    Weigh the options,
    And then rewind,
    Not deciding
    Is unkind.

    'When we aim at nothing, we hit it
    every time.'

    Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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  • Rookie - 874 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/2/2010 3:10:00 AM) Post reply

    This poem was written in free verse and there ismuch intensity of emotopn, inspired by a photograph of a father whose son killed his comrades in Iraq, du to apparent war trauma. Comments appreciated.


    Consummate pain
    Like a cruel wrench
    Gripped his heart
    And crushed, it bled
    A father's tears.

    No words define
    His anguished grief
    A wretched loss
    His own son...
    His seed.

    The baby he carried
    In his arms
    And nurtured
    In paternal love
    Now broken, scarred
    A shriveled man
    His father's eyes
    Now bleed.

    He would take him back
    To be his child
    Return him safely
    To his past
    No war could touch him
    Hidden there
    His eyes see through
    An hourglass.

    My boy, my son!
    What have they done?
    Your life a mangled mess
    What's left to do?
    These father's tears
    Will not replace
    The boy, the man
    That I once knew!

    -Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello -Posted at several other poetry sites
    under my name and cannot be plagiarized.
    May 12,2009-Tarlac City Philippines

  • Rookie - 874 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (2/2/2010 3:05:00 AM) Post reply

    A poem written in free style poetry form, but with some rhyme interjected in the verses, had many reviews from other writers at other sites.

    'After You Leave'
    by CBBaello

    After you leave
    Will I still breathe
    Or will my heart stop beating?
    With sadness grieve
    The Love that's freed
    And mourn it silently departing?

    After you leave
    Will skies be blue
    Or will gray clouds be dark above?
    When Earth receives
    The pouring rain as tears fall for a changing Love.

    After you leave
    Will Time be still
    These days and nights shall cease to be?
    No hourglass, nor hours to kill
    No past, no future, and no memory.

    * This poem is posted in several poetry sites under my name since August 2009.
    August 3,2009-COPYRIGHT Cynthia Buhain-Baello
    Tarlac City

  • Rookie Andrew Nawroski Saintly Slumber (1/25/2010 4:07:00 PM) Post reply

    This short poem I recently wrote in a free form composure but has rhyme that is kind of metered. Has anybody a comment about this? ?
    Youngest foal!
    Fetlocks fore-hoofs find glorious percussion
    On earthly pace doth trot
    Graceful gaited smooth equine no lancelot.
    Through wooded fawns and barren land
    Your engaging soul makes its stand
    To warm and beds you soon
    Then rest for all in angels moon.
    Awaken! noble sire!
    Tread your way through thorny briar
    For man he waits and cruel is he
    To take you down that stony road
    Where you’ll nay be free.

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