Thanks Fencer

I used to wonder where the stars came from,
until the day I met you.
Now they just fade into the background
as you fill up my view.

Now I’ve no need for wishes
for you are 'The' dream come true,
a person of such beauty,
an example of what two loving people can do.

And so, if you catch me smiling
It's because I was thinking of you,
wondering if maybe you had fallen
straight from those stars, all my fears to undo.

I used to think I’d been in love
until the day I met you.
Now I see I never knew
the depths which true-love runs through.

So I have no need for promises
there's nothing more I can do,
it really isn’t a question at all
for I can’t help but love you true…

And so, if you catch me smiling
It's because I was thinking of you.

- Darren J. Kelly 1991
- English Literature Coursework

A thousand times better than anything I ever wrote in college. Or since. LOL Very good! :o)

Television


The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl

Mirror, Mirror


A young spring-tender girl
combed her joyous hair
'You are very ugly' said the mirror.
But,
on her lips hung
a smile of dove-secret loveliness,
for only that morning had not
the blind boy said,
'You are beautiful'?

Spike Milligan

deep Harley, deep!! :o)

But really good!!

Argon,,,What a lucky lady.....To have someone to write such beautiful things about her... ;)

Don't think she ever thought so GrassHopperSD LOL

Well,,,I don't mean to be rude,,, but doesn't that make her an idiot???

Some would say that made her WISE!! ROFL

But we were all quite young, at 16/17 who really knew??

Granny says "Applauds all of you" this is awesome and I love to write and read poetry...and writings that come so far within us...love it!!Its like the gift of music when you play, its the gift of all in us we have to say....let us say and we will all feel and enjoy! (Clap!) (Clap!) to all...so glad to find here also:) Granny Wombat!

Really good Daedal. Thanks.

Memories can play tricks on you, or at least they do on me.
They can play games like starring you in the eye to see who will blink first,
or hide and go seek with every intention of never being found.
Please forgive me, I forget how the rest goes and I can't remember to whom I am speaking...

Rogue Lion, August 21st 2003 ?

Nice One!!

Transposed from german, by Daniel for D.J., II 2003
inspired by the original lyrics of a Klaus Hoffmann song
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I sing
There's a mantra in me
When I sing
I'm singing with thee
When I sing, oh when I sing
Your vibes seem so close to me

When I sing
No fears are in me
When I sing
A moment gets free
When I sing - oh when I sing
I'm as close as I cAn be, to thee

When I sing
It's slinging everything out
That might have been killed,
Been injured, been bent,
Not allowed or, just tilt
When I sing, oh when I sing
I'm as close as I cAn be, to thee.

When I sing
No suppression surrounds me like mist
When I sing
Voice and lyrics seem to turn to a fist.
When I sing oh when I sing
I'm as close as I cAn be, to thee ...

When I sing
It's vibes from my head,
From my cock and, my heart
When I sing
Hope bests sorrow,
And all pain falls apart
When I sing oh when I sing
I'm as close as I cAn be, to thee ...

When I sing
I still dont't know why I sing
But I sing
To be close to myself, too
When I sing oh when I sing
Perhaps it's just singing you ...

~*~

THE SICK ROSE
by William Blake

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

Very good Greg.. heres another by : William blake

My Pretty Rose Tree

A flower was offer'd to me.
Such a flower as May never be bore:
But I said " I've a Pretty Rose-tree,"
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.

As I said: Blake is KING! :o)

Yes he is..... and I also like poems by... Pummill(myDaughter),Yeats,Donne,Hughes,Hopkins,Millay,Whitman,Dickerson and I could go on and on. :o)

Nel giardinio dei salici

Nel giardino dei salici ho incontrato il Mio amore;
Ià lei camminava con piccoli piedi bianchi di neve.
Là lei mi pregava che prendessi l'amore come viene,
cosě come le foglie crescono sugli alberi.
Cosě glovane ero, io non le diedi ascolto;
cosě sciocco ero, io non le diedi ascolto.

Fu Ià presso il fiume che con il mio amore mi fermai,
e sulle mie spalle lei posň la sua mano di neve.
Là lei mi pregava che prendessi la vita cosě come viene,
cosě come l'erba cresce sugli argini del fiume;
ero giovane e sciocco ed ora non ho che lacrime.

And deservedly so.

I KISSED A GIRL
by yours truly (spur-of-moment)

I kissed a girl, she slapped my face
And turned away from my embrace
I shunned a girl, she kissed my face
And broke my back with her embrace

I loved a girl, she spited me
As I reached out she turned to flee
I despised her; she came to me
And worshipped Love on bended knee

I wrote a girl and met disdain
She gloated o'er my love-sick pain
I fed her crumbs, I sent her rain
She prayed her Love was not in vain

I asked a girl to be my bride
Which did not phase her haughty pride
I asked a girl to be my whore
And now have bolts on every door!

I will need help on this. Aragon are you interested? harley? danoschek? Wanda? Must run now but will get back.

I love these poems and words.........thanks for sharing ..... makes heart swell......with feelings:)

Granny

Who knew that in this great universe we live
we would find
such a place.
This place of rest
to the weary
This place of glee
This place of new friendships
and rekindle new
This place I call medicine to some
This place........

Thanks.........Granny!!

My Daughter: Pattricia Pummill ©2001

What is this? you ask of me
Is this what you call poetry?
'No, my friend I share with you,
words wrapped up flowing from my heart...'
With a twinkle in my eye and a whimsicial grin...
I reply.
With it my hope to you might be
a story that touches deeply
As we gently walk in time...
gracefully told like a river flows.
Maybe it will stir the soul
touch your emotions as you read
Not really poetry but, Prose you see...
A few lines told in rhyme
from the poet buried deep within this heart of mine.

Beautiful dear just beautiful.... and when you can read, and feel it deep within you and in your minds eye....awesome so awesome you see :) thanks for sharing...these............

Most of my Daughter's writing is of her life and family...This is one she won a award for. The Quilt is one that my Mom made and gave her when she turned 16. Hope you enjoy.....
The Quilt


Ah, grandmother dear, how I smile
as I look upon the quilt you made for me.
Many long hours of love and labor,
and all the miles we walked together.
Now who would have known
and who would have thought,
all these years later it stands the test
and hangs here now among all my best.
A little worn and somewhat tattered,
these stars of red, white and blue.....
folded just perfect on a matching stand.
The frayed edges really couldn't matter.
Many years passed since I turned sixteen.
Ah, so many summers I have seen.
Little did I know this gift you lovingly made
would bear great witness to a 'special love' for me.
Deep reds and wines, and shades of blue.
Your 'America my country' book displayed too.
George Washington as he signs a bill.
Yes, Mama I now show off your plate.
Indian heritage thrown in too....
Intense, my colors, like the maiden, made by you.
How did you know so many years ago,
the colors I'd chose to wrap around my home
You said, "We are a part of all that grows".
Didn't understand then, but this I know,
when I smell spring in the air,
long before the buds appear,
I can feel the call....
So world, you can have all the malls,
as I yearn for the sun upon my face and back,
with hands plunged deep within the soil
I know.... Yes. I'm part of all that grows!
And I can still see you taking each loving stitch.
Many longs hours you sat on your bench.
Wondered then, why you sat so long,
your fingers sore and your back would ache,
but yet so strong....
But now you sit at the Masters Feet
and all your pains have been erased.
I remember sitting by your feet and side,
all the love I felt then and now inside.
Now I know why you took each stitch.
So we all might know you're never gone,
no matter how much you are missed,
leaving apart of you behind that offers....
warmth, smiles and memories galore.
What better gifts could I have,
than to know you set about with more
love and patience, then designed it all just 'sew'....
© 2001 Pattricia Pummill

Greg, what kind of help?

OMG that is SO true and how perfectly expressed! I'm going to print this out if I may, I think its excellent!!

Of course you may. I thought surely I would be slapped. lol. :o)

I thought is was great, but if you really want a slap?? LOL

What words have we to begin with?? And is it one line a piece?

What do y'all think? This is my Brainstorm (I'm kinda dumb.lol).

These could be original works from BK members, with a popular vote to decide the top placers and winner, etc. We'd need a structure around it, like deadlines for submission, where to submit, when to vote, where the accumulated poems should be posted (and how, in what format) so that they can be seen, read, compared, in some way convenient for poetry-loving voters. Maybe later we could have theme-based contests.

This is only an IDEA. G-man (that's me) has more throw-away ideas than good ones. And his organizational skills are perfectly pathetic. If it's to fly I need help. If it's bad it will flounder anyway. But it seems like fun to me and an opportunity for some of our more talented members to shine. A nice way to keep the flames stoked. Could be the best poet among us has never yet dared to put pen to paper. I remember reading about a great painter who never picked up a brush until she was eighty....

Feedback is hoped for. Positive or negative will do. Just don't leave me Stranded! lol (Gulp) :o)

poetry and competition are mutual exclusive in my view ... ~*~

Point well taken. :o)

If all feel that way I'll toss it quick. lol

I like it to be honest! Perhaps contest is a bit strong a word for some people. I mean It isn't that easy a subject to judge on open forum? But i'm willing to help any way I can.

Once again, I like the idea :o)

Thanks Aragon! Can we find a better word than 'contest'?

If we do this I'll count on both your help and a terrific submission from you. :o)

The only one I can think of is BK Poetry Challenge? (doesn't necessitate a single winner??)

As for my help and support thats a 'given', the terrific submission? We will have to see LOL

OK G-man and your not dumb. I think this is a good ideal. But i'm the one who is dumb I don't know a thing about organisational skills. I'm like you this seems like it would be fun. If there is a way i can help, if i can i will.


By the way do you have any painting's of Grandma Moses. :o)

I sigh
Why I?
My bonzai die
You too?
Who knew?
Those damn little plants aren't worth pooh

It's true
Why you??
As if on cue!
I knew
Those damn little plants were overdue

It's true
says you
damn plants
are through
and through
gotta find
something new
to ease the mind
remove the blue
but take a pass
on sniffing glue

Its always worth a try, if people won't like it they won't enter! :o)
Of course I'll help too, in any way possible :o)

I know a few limericks..no..this is a family DB. LOL. Wish I could contribute though.

gotta find something new, says You!
So why not try checkers, says I to You.
Unlike those plants that made You blue
it can nourish the mind & flourish a smile
does what I say ring true?

Although I see im too late,
my suggestion quite lame,
with a BKR of one nine nine eight
its clear to me, you see
Tis I needs to work on my game.

Personally,I think it's a capital idea!! I too will do anything I can to help (just don't expect an entry from me lol)
From the onset of this DB,the support and interest in it has been exceptional (and with good reason) There,apparently,is an ocean of talent here on BK and it would be nice to see more of it!
I look forward to an exciting Poetry Challenge!

I know a place for those Limericks Chief!! **Badinage** be warned though! It is a penned genious of a very different sort!!

Play any man from any land. Any game that he can name. For any amount that he can count. The Chief 8-22-03 LOL

LOL - what about the women Chief??

I agree with Dano. Who is qualified to judge poetry? Who is going to judge the poetry in French, Spanish, Welsh, Greek etc?