Hope takes seed in an honest heart
On wings of love it makes its start
Not faithless, doubting, bitter...no
Even in darkness, it does glow
So wrapt in joy, with Spring so rife
This hope becomes thy fount of Life
"Yes", it says...to an honest heart

MindyzTaken: WOW!!!

That's so beautiful, baby! Thank You!!!

LOL I really must admit
You have a bit of wit
So how to reply to it
Has got me in a fit

To mistake you for a dog
And overlook the hog
I blame that on the fog
And sippin' too much grog

Once I ate a frog
People called me a hog
But really, there it was on the log
And it was either me or the dog

Then I ate a bear
And spit out all its hair
I admit that's rare
But he gave me a scare

You shoulda been there

MindyzTaken: Can't wait to see them.

by yours truly

Devil's children, how they play
Gossip, scratch & bite all day
Frothing, foaming, filled with pain
From bitter lust they can't refrain

Oh what joy to live in hope
And not like those who blindly grope
Who seek in envy to destroy
This gift from God, this blessed joy

Closer, now, I draw to You
With gentle warmth & love so true
And though the black-eyed demons hiss
Our Love is sealed with holy kiss

by yours truly

Stranded in this Universe
Could be better, but how worse?
Why did mother give me nurse?
Such a curse, such a curse

Stranded on this desert Earth
Wretched, foul, untimely birth!
Where’s the laughter, where’s the mirth?
Worthless sham, for what it’s worth

Stranded in this withered Land
Damn the rainbow, damn the Hand
That first helped this bleak soul to stand
First undone and then un-manned

Stranded on this strangled Shore
Neptune gloats, then shrieks for more
How I abhor, o how abhor
This sunken world with no back-door

Stranded in this barren Home
Read the transcript, scan the tome!
Wherein the shameless gods do roam
And spit their drool like febrile foam

Stranded in this hell of Hells
Curse the split-tongued wedding-bells!
Curse the rivers, curse the dells
And bless the caverns, bless the wells

Stranded in this darkling Space
Where to find a human face
In this ill-begotten Race?
Full of mischief, void of grace

Stranded on this wasted Waste
Made in haste, yes made in haste!
How I pine for just a taste
Of something sacred, someone chaste

Stranded in this tortured Mind
Hoping, ‘gainst all hope, to find
Just one cloud that’s silver-lined
Just one touch not cruel but kind

Stranded in this woeful Fate
Unquenched hunger is my Mate
Sick of smiles that come too late
Sick of ‘kindness’ laced with hate

Stranded in this lifeless Life
I raise the blade, I clutch the knife
For all’s against me, all is strife
And Pain’s my sister, Death my wife

Stranded on this gulf Alone
It chills the marrow in the bone
How can God in truth atone
For every slight and every groan?

by Rudyard Kipling

A fool there was and he made his prayer
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair
(We called her the woman who did not care),
But the fool he called her his lady fair
(Even as you and I!)

Oh the years we waste and the tears we waste
And the work of our head and hand,
Belong to the woman who did not know
(And now we know that she never could know)
And did not understand.

A fool there was and his goods he spent
(Even as you and I!)
Honor and faith and a sure intent
But a fool must follow his natural bent
(And it wasn't the least what the lady meant),
(Even as you and I!)

Oh the toil we lost and the spoil we lost
And the excellent things we planned,
Belong to the woman who didn't know why
(And now we know she never knew why)
And did not understand.

The fool we stripped to his foolish hide
(Even as you and I!)
Which she might have seen when she threw him aside --
(But it isn't on record the lady tried)
So some of him lived but the most of him died --
(Even as you and I!)

And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame
That stings like a white hot brand.
It's coming to know that she never knew why
(Seeing at last she could never know why)
And never could understand.

MindyzTaken: *melt* Thank you baby.

I was looking at the clouds on a Winter's day
I was thinking how the world has lost its way
How we play an empty game and how we think we're free
How we lie about the truth and the Misery

I was standing in the middle of a pouring rain
I was seeing how there's nothing in this life but pain
How we spend our days within an empty shell
How we dream of Heaven, how we're born in Hell

I can see into the city, I can see the mud
I can see the dirty faces, they are covered in blood
I can see the devil's hunger in the business man
I can feel the thirsty hunger all through this Land

I was blinded by a vision of the world-to-be
I was thinking of a Life that can never be
I was hoping for a place of security
I was sinking in the sand of Reality

But I know there must be some escape, a tunnel through the slime
I'm tired of watching all the rape, I'm sick of seeing all the crime
I've gazed along the open shore, I've looked within my darkest dreams
I've searched my soul to find a door, I must get out by any means

And I'm going over...I'm going over...yes I'm going over

The Edge

I was swirling in the center of a raging flood
I was coughing up the mucus and the slimy blood
I could feel the awful hatred in the angry sky
I could see the naked truth behind the endless Lie

How we spit upon the weak and how we praise the strong
How we trample on the right and how we bless the wrong
How we gave our souls to Satan, how we laughed with glee
When we finally saw the Lord hanging on that Tree

I am sick of living in a world filled with spite
I am sick of utter darkness, this eternal Night
I am fed up with the Dream and the Fantasy
I am fed up with the whole damn thing, you see

A Storm is coming and its gonna be an evil day
The water's rising, gonna wash your hopes away
The wind is blowing, gonna rip right through your head
The devil's smirking 'cause he knows you're already Dead

But I know there must be some escape, a tunnel to the Light
I think I've found a better way, I'm giving up this worthless fight
I've gazed along the open shore, I've looked into the land of Love
I've searched my soul to find a door, I've gazed into the stars above

And I'm going over...I'm going over...yes I'm going over

The Edge

(originally posted here on 2. September 2003, 12:42:49)

Seated in my study dreaming, all the air about me teeming,
Images of lost years streaming, broken strands of yesterday –
Through the pane comes moonlight gleaming on my face, O ever seeming
To intrude with clever scheming, secrets hid in every ray –
Might there be a cryptic meaning in this strange, unearthly play
Shining o’er this brittle clay?

Outside my door the wild wind sleeps ‘neath dusky sky and western steeps –
Succumbs the Summer; Winter creeps into my sanctuary –
Into my blood dejection seeps as ‘round a nook a lorn eye peeps,
And sorrow rises from the deeps to clothe this sad-eyed Fairy –
The silence moans, the twilight weeps, and all the world’s contrary –
Lost ghosts glide o’er the prairie.

In the gloaming, beyond the coast, there march the souls I treasure most;
Beneath the crescent moon a hoste of warriors in the fleeting day –
Of treasures lost I surely boast and place my name upon the Post
Which stands like some unliving ghost upon the edge of my dismay –
I lift the glass and make the toast to ghosts whom I would fain belay –
Old soldiers lost in the fray.

Some ghosts are living, some are gone to hollow holes in lands unknown
Where starlight gleams as cold as stone and black-eyed demons bar the gate –
A curse it is to be alone, lost in that chilling, timeless Zone
Where ev’ry echo is a groan against the calloused hands of Fate –
There is, in sooth, cause to bemoan a Cosmos laid on slabs of hate,
Whose Lord I dare to inculpate.

My ancestors were men of steel and to them now I must appeal,
For though they’ve passed, they are more real than far-fetch’d gods of make-believe –
O shadows flee! O Satan reel! before whose throne all cowards kneel –
I’ll make no parleys, strike no deal, nor let my mind his lies deceive –
Let others yield, their hearts congeal – I’ll never give nor ask reprieve,
Though he doth my soul bereave.

Father, you have gone to the grave, that mystic realm, that far enclave
Where all my future hopes once clave, while still I searched for the Grail –
The Earth takes back what once she gave no matter how we fret or rave,
And what is free she’ll soon enslave and lead along the ancient trail –
Wash now my heart, my spirit lave! O Goddess underneath the Veil –
‘Gainst thee I shall never rail!

I’ve surely lived in Hell-bent haste, as if there were no time to waste –
Each moment might have been encased, and here the pain of loss allay –
But she beckoned, so I raced until I had myself out-paced,
And left my heart and mind un-braced for dark emotions long at bay –
With sadness now my soul is laced in mounting grief too great to weigh –
Against myself I must inveigh.

Riding now on wave-upon-wave, plunging into the nethermost cave,
Where music swells my soul doth crave, once more my heart to impale –
For though I be so bold, so brave, I’m still in truth a simple slave
Who clings to chains within this Nave to withstand the bitter gale –
I cannot walk the path I pave, nor can I gaze beyond the pale –
To be mortal is to fail.

I summon ghosts from far and near to muster hope and withstand fear,
But ofttimes shed a lonely tear while gazing into the Past –
Too long! too long! those voices dear have failed to grace this yearning ear,
And phantoms vanish while I peer into the dismal gloom so vast –
No ripple on the haunted mere reveals the anchor vainly cast –
I am left alone at last.

O come, bright Maiden, lithe and fair, and guide me to thy hidden lair –
For I am yours, I now declare, against impossibility –
Entwine me in thy silver hair and lift the burden I can’t bear,
As I ascend the arcane stair into thy dark tranquility –
I’ll sit beside thee in thy chair and praise thy high facility –
Blessed rare ability!

A puff of smoke, a sip of wine preserve my memories in brine,
And I take oath: I will be thine, O Maiden fair, O spectral Dame –
Take I this Vision for a sign that you, my Lady, will be mine;
Upon thy breast I shall recline, and lay to rest this mortal frame –
Be thou my Love, my true Ensign, for never will I be the same –
My Love, what is thy name?

Now darkness falls, the Vision’s fled – I must bestir myself to bed,
Content to know my soul is wed to the Sylph of my delusion –
For though my Angel now is dead, when all is done and all is said,
She ever lives within my head, and all else is confusion –
These ghosts are rather real instead, and this is my conclusion –
Dare not call it Illusion!

*edited to remove a remark here at poem's end

I'm a pipe pipe pipe pipe pipe puffin' man
And I puff puff puff it when I can
And it's pipe-puffin' pipe-puffin' time again

So I clean it up & I blow it out
And I'd rather be puffin' than watch Jackie Chan
As only a pipe-puffin' puffin' man can

So I pack it full & I light it up
And I take me a puff like a pipe-puffin' man
An' I reckon that makes me a pipe-puffin' fan

I'm a coffee-drinking kind of man
And I drink it whenever I can
And it's coffee-drinking time again
And I drink it right out of the pan
And I'm such a big coffee fan
Though I never liked Duran Duran
I'm just a coffee-drinking kind of man

I like a clean board. I agree with Stardust. I can't be blamed for being the Censor-Monster here now as I no longer moderate Poetry...but I tip my hat to Stardust, Aragon, Bumble & Harley, all who have stood forth in recent days on this board to help maintain its integrity.

I'm pleased to see some good moderating on this board.

MindyzTaken: Your melt melted me!

Yes Dano, sweet spring...here at last.

I love Mindy
Yes I do
And what's more
She loves me too

I'm so happy
Yes I am
I'm so glad
To be her man

I'm so glad
To have her love
Given me
By God above

Like two hearts
Are really One
So we shine
Like Moon & Sun

:o)

danoschek: Excellent!

Radiant 36 9: Wow!

My heart skipped a beat. How moving....

alanback: Express your criticism in a poem. Just please make it tasteful...i.e., no killing of cops & vulgar language, etc.

Andre Faria: Freedom of speech is one of the most...perhaps the most...valuable rights we as individuals have. Yet...like all valuable rights...it is not absolute, and much depends upon the context. A child may not stand up in a classroom & curse his teacher with an endless barrage of profanity, for example. Most of us would agree. Yet the child is certainly free to hate and/or disapprove of his teacher...and may at the proper time & in a suitable outlet express that hatred/disapproval publicly.

You certainly must curtail, to some extent, the natural freedom-of-speech right of your own child. That is, if it becomes necessary to do so. It doesn't mean you devalue freedom. We all have standards of taste, and they are not entirely bad or without warrant.

This board is about poetry. Social criticism in poetry is welcome. Poetry & art of all kinds are appropriate & excellent mediums for social protest. But most of the posts I've deleted....yours included....are not poems in themselves but rather a discussion about censorship. I call your attention to the fact that I've also deleted several of my own posts. No disrespect is intended. I want to get this board back on track.

Andromedical: Your second paragraph really nails it on the head, I think. The kind of rap you speak of is a social contribution, and has very valid things to say about society & the mixed culture we live in. America's white middle class is not the final arbiter of what is meaningful or valuable....and in fact, so often it remains willingly blind to the far-reaching world beyond its sheltered walls. The issue here is meaningful content, which the rap poems (songs) in question lacked. The ghetto reality is tragic & our society is to blame...and it ought to be trumpeted far & wide, in song, poetry & political commentary. Pointless & stereotypical poems do not do it justice, and in fact exacerbate purposefully & thus tend to alienate the very minds & hearts it needs to reach. It is not seeking for a solution. It is revelling in the problem.

I for one would appreciate seeing your poems.

Nomad: Your talent is beyond belief. I hope you're collecting your poems.

JamesHird continued to bait. I don't like doing this but we all want the Poetry DB to maintain a kind of integrity, in accord with its original & continuing purpose to serve the users of this wonderful site.

JamesHird: Call it what you will. That's right, I'm the mod. Discussion now over.

JamesHird: Valid on some stations, sure. But not here. My opinion may be no better than others but I must make a judgment according to my best insight. There are some deep, inciteful, politically incorrect & even rebellious poems on these boards. But poems designed to offend the very readers of the Poetry DB...that's where I choose to draw the line.

JamesHird: Inflammatory, in my opinion. Speaking of cop-killing & using the n-word not my idea of creative expression. Some may feel differently. I see it as rude, tasteless & disrespectful.

*edited for grammatical correction

Thank you, Donna. I find these "poems" so-called, very offensive in nature....and purposefully so.

Nomad: Right on the money. And very well said.

Cathy1: Nomad has a drawer full of original poetry of equal caliber. I'm amazed at his talent. He's a great one. Also the finest of friends.

Nomad: Terrifyingly Great.

Very good, PowerPygmie :o)

Also thanks SF for the great Poe stuff!

And thank you Donna, Wanda & Dano for your kind words. I'm looking forward to poems by all of you. :o)

The muse has left, left us bereft
Has left no trace, no sacred place
The bird has flown, it flies alone
Into the night, the hollow night

No smiling face, no hidden grace
No dream sublime, no gifted rhyme
The bird has flown, it flies alone
Into the graceless, traceless night

Thanks Wanda, I am well. That's a great pic. :o)

It is SO great to see you! :o))))

You'd better start collecting this stuff, James. You thought you were an Engineer. But really you are a Poet. :o)

wow

Beautiful :o)

Thanks for reposting, AD. As this board's moderator, I feel it incumbent on me to say that I did not delete your earlier post.

What's more, slander against me has been allowed to stand on this website. But the truth about Bill gets censored.

It is worse than a double standard. It seems to be no standard at all.

Your poem is an incredible expression of the price of compassion, my friend James. You are an artist, no doubt. :o)

:o)
Y'all are welcome & thanks!

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.


The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Poe

Showing off is not only allowed, it is mandatory. Here we just call it, letting your light shine. Very fine poem, Bernice. Thanks for sharing! :o)

When a wife disagrees there is no solution LOL

:o)
I created it for people like you, Radiant. And I sincerely hope that in the coming months your beautiful lines of verse will grace these pages again, as they have done so many times before.

You were an excellent Steward, Josetta, and you will always have a special place of honor here. :o)))

For being so generous, helpful, kind-hearted & forgiving.

I love this board & want very much to see it shine with great poetry Old & New.

The members of BK are up to the task :o)

James, you are a true poet. And I do not say that lightly.

Incredible James...all these poems you've posted.

It's good to be home :o)

Seated in my study dreaming, all the air about me teeming,
Images of lost years streaming, broken strands of yesterday –
Through the pane comes moonlight gleaming on my face, O ever seeming
To intrude with clever scheming, secrets hid in every ray –
Might there be a cryptic meaning in this strange, unearthly play
Shining o’er this brittle clay?

Outside my door the wild wind sleeps ‘neath dusky sky and western steeps –
Succumbs the Summer; Winter creeps into my sanctuary –
Into my blood dejection seeps as ‘round a nook a lorn eye peeps,
And sorrow rises from the deeps to clothe this sad-eyed Fairy –
The silence moans, the twilight weeps, and all the world’s contrary –
Lost ghosts glide o’er the prairie.

In the gloaming, beyond the coast, there march the souls I treasure most;
Beneath the crescent moon a hoste of warriors in the fleeting day –
Of treasures lost I surely boast and place my name upon the Post
Which stands like some unliving ghost on the edge of my dismay –
I lift the glass and make the toast to ghosts whom I would fain belay –
Old soldiers lost in the fray.

Some ghosts are living, some are gone to hollow holes in lands unknown
Where starlight gleams as cold as stone and black-eyed demons bar the gate –
A curse it is to be alone, lost in that chilling, timeless Zone
Where ev’ry echo is a groan against the calloused hands of Fate –
There is, in sooth, cause to bemoan a Cosmos laid on slabs of hate,
Whose Lord I dare to inculpate.

My ancestors were men of steel and to them now I must appeal,
For though they’ve passed, they are more real than far-fetch’d gods of make-believe –
O shadows flee! O Satan reel! before whose throne all cowards kneel –
I’ll make no parleys, strike no deal, nor let my mind his lies deceive –
Let others yield, their hearts congeal – I’ll never give nor ask reprieve,
Though he doth my soul bereave.

Father, you have gone to the grave, that mystic realm, that far enclave
Where all my future hopes once clave, while still I searched for the Grail –
The Earth takes back what once she gave no matter how we fret or rave,
And what is free she’ll soon enslave and lead along the ancient trail –
Wash now my heart, my spirit lave! O Goddess underneath the Veil –
‘Gainst thee I shall never rail!

I’ve surely lived in Hell-bent haste, as if there were no time to waste –
Each moment might have been encased, and here the pain of loss allay –
But she beckoned, so I raced until I had myself out-paced,
And left my heart and mind un-braced for dark emotions long at bay –
With sadness now my soul is laced in mounting grief too great to weigh –
Against myself I must inveigh.

Riding now on wave-upon-wave, plunging into the nethermost cave,
Where music swells my soul doth crave, once more my heart to impale –
For though I be so bold, so brave, I’m still, in truth, a simple slave
Who clings to chains within this Nave to withstand the bitter gale –
I cannot walk the path I pave, nor can I gaze beyond the pale –
To be mortal is to fail.

I summon ghosts from far and near to inspire hope and withstand fear,
But ofttimes shed a lonely tear while gazing into the Past –
Too long! too long! those voices dear have failed to grace this yearning ear,
And phantoms vanish while I peer into the dismal gloom so vast –
No ripple on the haunted mere reveals the anchor vainly cast –
I am left alone at last.

O come, bright Maiden, lithe and fair, and guide me to thy hidden lair –
For I am yours, I now declare, against impossibility –
Entwine me in thy silver hair and lift the burden I can’t bear,
As I ascend the arcane stair into thy dark tranquility –
I’ll sit beside thee in thy chair and praise thy high facility –
Blessed rare ability!

A puff of smoke, a sip of wine preserve my memories in brine,
And I take oath: I will be thine, O Maiden fair, O spectral Dame –
Take I this Vision for a sign that you, my Lady, will be mine;
Upon thy breast I shall recline, and lay to rest this mortal frame –
Be thou my Love, my true Ensign, for never will I be the same –
My Love, what is thy name?

Now darkness falls, the Vision’s fled – I must bestir myself to bed,
Content to know my soul is wed to the Sylph of my delusion –
For though my Angel now is dead, when all is done and all is said,
She ever lives within my head, and all else is confusion –
These ghosts are rather real instead, and this is my conclusion –
Dare not call it Illusion!

That is a good idea and I will make a suggestion to Fencer, thanks. But of course the choice is Fencer's and I thank him for allowing this wonderful board to begin with...and for allowing me to moderate it.