Rhythm and Rhyme Workshop

A Lullaby For A Better World

Little one, my grape eyed cherubic baby
I hum to you this nasal, tear drenched lullaby
So you won't be a bad guy all will hate
And you'll grow up to deserve the heaven's golden gate
So that your tiny foamy feet that makes me smile
Can lead the world miles and miles and miles
So that those cute little fingers, guileless little creatures
Can mold the world's destiny, shape its future
So that the walnut brain in your perfect skull
Can still tolerate my advice, all morose and dull

To respect a burqa, even when your head carries vermilion
To learn to draw across boundaries, be one among a million
To see a soul within every blood smeared face
To learn to withstand defeat in the life's blind race
To learn to expiate mistakes, even if too late
To do what you want, leave nothing to fate

To have a vision, pursue your dreams with dedication
Be an inspiration, glorify your nation
Never break trust, belief, never give false hope
Smile in the face of adversities, learn to cope

So learn to slow down the pace of life, stand and wait
Be quick to thank and apologize, never be late
Never hate defeat, never dread it, it won't change your fate
Never let lusty hands destroy you, you're not their bait
Show patience and forgiveness, even to the person you hate
So you can grow up to deserve the heaven's golden gate

In between glances the contact is such
As a soul to a soul or a fingertip touch,
Like eyes in the moonlight that tremble the skies
Or a dream that stops breathing, yet still never dies,
For love is alive in the days that we live
And it makes such a difference to what we can give
The most natural thing, like a hand in a hand
Through the beauty of life makes two hearts understand.


In between shadows a lantern light shines
On those wandering whispers that love’s glow defines,
When the moon gathers memories that never will fade
Though they sometimes grow weary and sleep in the shade,
Yet for love set in patience, the morning will rise
Like the smile on his face and the dream in her eyes
That go walking together on dawn’s silver beach
They have so much to live for, and so high to reach.


In between moments live pauses of grace
Like awaiting an answer, the look on a face,
Or two heads touching softly while they watch the sea
For who knows if their moment is all there will be?
They have so many moments, or so it appears
For moments make hours, and hours make years,
There are moments of music and moments of rhyme
Or the moments of love for the very first time…

OUR SITUATION: BY TANYA ENGEL

This is my introduction
To our love found sensation
Which indeed leads to many complications.
When you’re not around, I wait in anticipation
For our love amalgamation

It’s as though all of civilization
Is against our love situation
Yis … the frustration!

I hate the restrictions
Being away from you is love starvation
& I’m sure they have their speculations
But I still long for our unification.

We both share equal contribution.
Besides, it’s not like we’re each other’s consolation
But we are their creation.
So I guess I can understand their commotion
And confusion
As to why we’d once again embark on this expedition.

So I have a proposition:
After much consideration
& Sorting out varies conditions
Along with each of our co-operation
And no lack in communication,
This relation
Can become one of a fine composition
& In addition ….
We need to join in the reconstruction
Of a relation
That once led to devastation

So that we can build a firm foundation
Of a knew combination
Of admiration
And appreciation.

This way we both can enjoy the satisfaction
Of the recreation
Of this formation
Which might be our destination.

Iron Curtains

Not now, not morrow
Trample solemn sorrow
Just a moment I would borrow
Finding petals in my harrow

Stars begin their flight
Dancing blissfully through the night
I will not find delight
With no words to feel contrite

Find no silence in a slumber
Iron curtains to encumber
Sought a word not a number
In a thought, I am asunder

Search for answers in a book
Breath every word as you look
Piercing steel of a devils hook
A mental quake your soul has shook

What of you should conspire
Malice! Malice! ! not desire
Heed the word of a liar
Dip your toes into it's fire

Greetings all.
I have recently done some work on what the differences are between poems written by amateurs and those written by professionals. Essentially, the most significant characteristics of " professional" poetry is that it is more concrete and contains less sentiment than poems written by " amateurs" . I would be curious to get feedback on these findings. The research is available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=2208452.
Looking forward to your responses,
Michael Dalvean

Hi I am new here, Dear Reader I would appreciate your commentary here about my poetry. I have published in the Afrikaans language and would love to publish in English

i have got a few new poems on my page i would be grateful to hear some comments and feedback from them and maybe rate them as you feel it deserves....many thanks

I added three new works to my profile, and I look forward to comments. Two of the three are revisions of older works by me. I hope everyone will enjoy.

Hey guys i have only just started writing poems i need some more friends to share thoughts with and i need comments on my poems
check out my new one Theres a Succubuss in my bedroom. Thankyou i will read your poems too NEEEED MORE FRIENDS AHHA.

Transparent Golem

In a cold of space there is no sound
That in mischief can be found.

Prank on those who think it's not
Just another scoundrel act.

Hurt on those who can't adapt.
They must perish or be trapped.

Look alike their dreams must be.
Deuce won't sleep, so why won't thee.

Keeping sane - it is not hard,
'cause in space there is no sound.