Treasure Island

Poetics and Poetry Discussion

Post a message
  • Adam M. Snow Rookie - 1st Stage (7/16/2014 6:43:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    I out did myself with this poem, one of my best.

    God's Heaven
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    A vision splendid of the Heavenly scene,
    filled my mind with an image so clean:
    the purity of the road from which I walk,
    beyond the pearly gates so pure and white;
    brighter than the sun's brightest light,
    where the saints goes to flock.

    Awestruck was I, with bright colors so new;
    beyond everything of this earthly hue.
    They glowed from the flowers in eternal bloom;
    no death is seen, no weltering of a rose;
    true beauty only God could compose -
    with great fragrance, oh Heaven's perfume.

    Oh the Heaven's perfumes, intoxicating scent;
    so greatly with love, Heaven's intent.
    Entwined with the sounds of the Heavenly choir;
    great melodies with angelic boasts.
    And out of the mouths of the highest Heavenly hosts,
    singing with voices of fire.

    Oh the tunes of Heavenly chorus great,
    flowing with love and overflowing the gates.
    The power's so great I fall to my knees,
    I cannot help but join in to sing,
    (O' great is Thy forever King -
    great is Thy Maker of peace.)

    And suddenly there, in crystal sunlight's glow,
    stands all those dear ones we always loved so.
    I see my father staring back at me;
    my father whom I lost in mid bleak December.
    Oh the treasures I will remember,
    like the beauty of Heaven's seas.

    As I see him, as young as I;
    no tears in Heaven, still I wanted to cry.
    Never thought I would see him once more.
    My father, my friend is he -
    a different man, cancer free;
    still my father since the days of yore.

    Such great gift that God has given me,
    a vision of this soon coming beauty.
    A land so great for a few yet so many;
    the resting place at the end of my life,
    to lay down in peace at the end of all my strife.
    I wait for Thee, O' God, I wait for Thee.

    Replies for this message:
    • Sherrie Kolb Cassel Rookie - 1st Stage (7/18/2014 11:19:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      Adam, do what you love, but if you're serious about writing for publication, I'd discipline myself to try my hand at a few different forms, see if you can play with language creatively staying " ... more

    • Jim Hogg Rookie - 1st Stage (7/17/2014 8:08:00 AM) Post reply

      " I out did myself with this poem, one of my best" ... That is the scary bit and reminds me: tens of thousands of " poets" on sites such as this, crowing, even if only to ourselve ... more

    • Jefferson Carter Rookie - 1st Stage (7/16/2014 7:27:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Lamont, this is so wonderfully tongue-in-cheek! Terrifically funny! By the time I got to the second stanza, tears were running down my cheeks! " death is seen, no weltering of a rose; /t ... more

  • Mike Acker Rookie - 1st Stage (7/16/2014 12:56:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    (in response to the conversation below between Palmer and Plum)

    I have no idea why the real trolls(the Palmers, the Plums, et al.) think I would need a persona or troll to hide behind. Just to show that I have no hard feelings, here is a poem dedicated to the King of Trolls.....

    Lamont Palmer & His Fellow Mediocrities

    Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.
    The recurring theme of the 'plasti' poets.
    Thousands sitting in ill-fitting poetry sites,
    and vacuum-filled forums making
    hydrogenated-fatty comments broadcast
    through a dispassionate, torpid ether,
    or stuffed into serpentine fiber-optic cables
    emitting lard laden signals that slow down
    and clog ever-bored photons grudgingly carrying
    this vacuous data to burned out screens just
    to display sent, read, unread, dead messages.

    Nothing really works, but the virile springs
    of keyboard letters, livelier than the words
    they form so well, morphing into flat,
    fat final locutions that reek of nothing, nothing, nothing.
    Empty shells of language used as currency
    to buy and sell the wasted moments of mediocrities.
    Self-congratulatory writing, good/bad writes,
    don't give up; the silent scream of
    the failed poets who, like the wingless birds
    flutter aimlessly on the ground unable
    to fathom what has happened.

    Jump, jump is all they can do now,
    the closest thing to ascension,
    but that is OK, no one really cares.
    With the droppings from soaring giants
    on their heads, some feel empowered
    to keep going, the stink of guano
    is their accolade from these gods,
    high above. How could they see,
    how can they know, in this mass of chaos,
    confusion and conformity. Who gives a damn,
    a letter here, a word there; one massive
    self-obsessed mind talking to itself, incessantly.
    Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

    Mikey Acker(see, Mike Acker, need for personas)

    Replies for this message:
    • Frank Ovid Rookie - 1st Stage (7/16/2014 1:17:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      You had an alias one time! Remember, you even admitted to it, you rascal. You deceived once, what's to say you wouldn't, or haven't done it again?It's a trust issue really. We just can't trust someone ... more

  • Mandolyn ... Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage (7/15/2014 11:30:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I suggest you guys read a book called " These Is My Words" by Nancy Turner
    Hop to it!

    Replies for this message:
  • Mike Acker Rookie - 1st Stage (7/15/2014 1:22:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Bedouin Woman(as reply)

    Replies for this message:
    • Mike Acker Rookie - 1st Stage (7/15/2014 8:52:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      This Bedouin woman seems old and tired. Her favorite son's star is tattooed inside her heart. Outside hangs that bloody cross. Every morning she places a golden dome upon her head, becoming a ... more

  • Paul Butters Rookie - 1st Stage (7/15/2014 5:07:00 AM) Post reply

    A cheeky one. (Moi?) . Over the years I have continued my policy of posting most of my poems on Poemhunter. It is a safe residence for them. However, I see that everyone gets fewer views these days. As a experiment, on the 12th July, I posted my poem " Communication" on 4 different sites. The results to press: Poemhunter 13 Views, My Own Blogger Blog 9, " VoicesNet" 29, " Hello Poetry" 228. Also got some " Likes" and comments on VN and HP though not as many as usual. However, I rest my case. Seems people are reading and responding more on other sites. Would love to know why.

  • Gulsher John Rookie - 1st Stage (7/14/2014 11:37:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    HOW TO READ (a poem) POETRY?

    i often think how to read poetry?aloud or silently(like a novel or like a song?) which one is more rejoicing?
    about poetry we know that it's a rhythmic expression.
    A reader, A writer and a teacher, all have different ways and purpose of reading and these all stir different emotions.
    My question is, If i read a poem silently(as most people do) how can i get its rhythm/music?
    i.e. stressed, unstressed, or rise and fall etc...if this is the case in " English poetry " then how can we get RHYTHM in our lines.?
    As (about) Latin Poetry makes it clear that it is a SIN to read poetry silently, and the better the poet the worse the SIN....
    Romans not only read aloud, but they read everything with gusto and with much pleasure.
    we were told in our reading class that poetry to be sing (lips and tongue) to heighten its effects and appreciation and Novels to be reas (eyes) to get understanding.but now...

    Replies for this message:
    • Paul Butters Rookie - 1st Stage (7/15/2014 5:00:00 AM) Post reply

      That's a no brainer to me my friend. Read aloud in your head with that " inner voice" . Skim-reading is for getting those literature essays done ASAP. I confess, I could never skim read whic ... more

  • Jefferson Carter Rookie - 1st Stage (7/14/2014 11:23:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Adam, you're so funny! ! I love your sense of humor, writing such horrible dreck and then pretending you've offered it as a good poem! You're a very clever troll, and I salute you!
    Dont' stop writing! The world really does need the laughs you provide! Your fan, JC

    Replies for this message:
  • Professor Plum Rookie - 1st Stage (7/13/2014 8:35:00 PM) Post reply

    Carter! ! ! ! Calm yourself! Calm. Yourself!

  • Adam M. Snow Rookie - 1st Stage (7/13/2014 7:04:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    (I predict Carter will tell me, this is trash and will tell me to do myself a favor and to stop writing lol)

    Little One
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Little one, little one, I see you there dreaming
    What do you see?What do you see within that dream of yours?
    Do you see children dying?Pointless bloodshed and infants crying?
    Little one, little one what do you see?
    Darkness over lands and bodies in the seas?
    Hungry people, starving like you and me?

    Little one, little one what are you dreaming?
    Is it the future and what you'll become?
    Oh little one, don't you know, there is no future for you anymore?
    Your future is stolen by the choices of man.
    Mankind will end with you, there's nothing we could do.
    We brought this on ourselves, thinking we were gods and nothing else.

    There is no future for you. Oh little one, my heart goes out to you.
    Man strived for power, the cost was lives of many; but you're too young to see.
    Too young to understand what's the price for greed.
    I envy you little one, with that little mind of yours:
    always smiling, always cheerful; without a care in the world.
    I envy you, with that little mind of yours, too young to comprehend what's going on.
    The downward spiral, the tragedies caused by man.
    The reason there is no future.

    We live in a day where wars wages still and corruption is fed to the people.
    We live in a day where love has no meaning and God is no longer welcome.
    We live in a day, the Earth is crying out; the reason for all earthquakes and floods.

    Oh little one, little one. There is no future for you here.
    In the next few years the Lord will return, the Son of God will come.
    You will join many of His children for a journey home,
    and that little one, your future will begin.

    Replies for this message:
  • Mike Acker Rookie - 1st Stage (7/13/2014 3:09:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Two-faced Woman(as reply)

    Replies for this message:
    • Mike Acker Rookie - 1st Stage (7/13/2014 3:09:00 PM) Post reply

      The Two-faced Woman I see a woman with two faces looking my way. I wonder what she sees of me. Can she truly see anything, this two-faced woman whose gaze wanders my way? Now and then ... more

[Hata Bildir]