An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!
The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population. This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.
We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions: 1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well 2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems
Véčet klobu na mloveni
Néni tě dovoleny datlovat do toďteho klobo. Abes mohl datlovat do toďteho klobo, mosiš mit némiň členstvi Brain šiml.
Radiant Aunt: Dear Radiant Aunt, For the last couple of days I've been trying to open the link you've sent so kindly, but in vain. Everytime I click the link, my computer hangs. Would it be possible to extend your kindness and mail the poem (text) to me? I'm dying of curiosity!
Does anyone write any? I write millions of them! Here is an example:
たいとした 素晴しいこと 夢を見る (Transliteration: taito shita / subarashii koto / yume wo miru; English: I saw a dragon in it's flight / It is a wonderful thing / To dream)
*Note: I couldn't type the original character for it. It is not supported by Unicode, or at least by my computer.
Another example:
あの人と もう合わないな… あら?光? (Transliteration: ano hito to / mou awanai na... / ara? hikari?; English: With that person / I will never meet again... / Eh? Light?)
Templar: I read it as a poem in 1983 or so in our alumni mag. For the last 15 years or so I'm looking for it. I'd be most grateful if you can unearth it.
Many years ago I read a poem in which the (anonymous) poet hankered for the "Good Old Days" when 'gay' meant happy or joyful and 'grass' was something cows ate and 'pot' was what you used to cook with and so on. Have anyone read that poem? I would like to read it again, but I can't find it anywhere! Please help!
harley: It IS actually a very sad poem and tonight before bedtime, I will pray that all Mom's of children with ADHD, Aspergers, Autism will have the right support where it comes to these issues. I mean, its not good when child and Mom are being ignored like that.. There good be created a sort of understanding level, at least by the teachers towards the other Moms / children.. anyway.. my thoughts
harley: I am very glad you found it And yes, its a striking one.. and yes, you posted it somewhere here.. Ive seen this here before; but don't know where!
Oh wow I just found it! I knew I had it on my PC, it wasn't a file that was immediately recognised - and my mistake, its Linda Hurley who wrote it. Hope you like it now!
***********
THE PLAYGROUND
I stand alone in the playground
No one talks to me
I see the looks, and hear their whispers:
She's the mother of the 'little beast'.
The boy who cant sit still in the classroom
The one that fools around
The child who torments the others
And throws himself to the ground.
She must be a useless parent
No control or restraint
We'll go and see the Headmistress
And make a formal complaint.
We want the 'looney' expelled
You know the one we mean
The boy who runs aorund the playground
As if driven by a machine.
Who sends the other children flying
Cuts and bruises everywhere
Get rid of the little menace
How you do it, we don't care.
The 'brat' whose been banned at lunchtime
The child who has no friends
The boy who's never invited to parties
And Christmas cards - not one was sent.
The child who cries because he is lonely
As no friend invites him to tea
The boy who believes he is useless
And not fit to be loved by me.
The lad who is a 'loner'
Through no choice of his own
Who struggles in the classroom
And is made to sit alone.
The boy who lags behind
As hard as he may try
Who at the age of seven
Can barely read and write.
And so I continue to stand alone
No one talks to me
The mother of a little boy
Whose been diagnosed with ADHD
Rose: I'm not sure if its one and the same, I don't think so. The poem is about ADHD and the poet has a son with the disorder and wrote this poem. I don't think it is the actress.
Does anyone remember a poem called "The Playground" by Liz Hurley? I'm sure I posted it somewhere on BK but its not on this board. If anyone happens to know the poem could they send me a copy please?
(With due apologies to Rudyard Kipling - and to Bill Shankly)
Oh, East is East, and West is West,
And never the twain shall meet,
Unless it is the World Cup time,
And men kick balls with feet.
There is neither East nor West,
Nor border, breed or birth,
When two teams kick-off face to face,
From different ends of earth.
Twenty-two men, all fit and strong,
And mostly slim and tall,
Go helter skelter o’er the field,
Chasing a single ball.
They push and strive and sweat and toil,
They collapse on the mat;
‘Tis not about just life or death,
But so much more than that.
India my homeland, my nation,
The haven of religious proliferation.
The land of many a God, many a teacher,
Many a saint, among whom feature
Krishna and Rama, Buddha and Mahavira;
Ramakrishna, Nanak and Kabir in times nearer.
And today, in this land of the Maharishis
The girl child is one of the endangered species.
India, my country, my motherland,
Where great men were born once, I understand;
Men like Gandhi, Raman and Tagore,
And Netaji, Panditji and so many more;
Sages, all, in some way or the other,
Sages, serving their Mother.
And today, in this land of the sages
Religion is the watchword of violent outrages.
(With due apologies to Rudyard Kipling - and to Bill Shankly)
Oh, East is East, and West is West,
And never the twain shall meet,
Unless it is the World Cup time,
And men kick balls with feet.
There is neither East nor West,
Nor border, breed or birth,
When two teams kick-off face to face,
From different ends of earth.
Twenty-two men, all fit and strong,
And mostly slim and tall,
Go helter skelter o’er the field,
Chasing a single ball.
They push and strive and sweat and toil,
They collapse on the mat;
‘Tis not about just life or death,
But so much more than that.
This morning, 2 minutes and 3 seconds after one,
I had some fun;
Without too many tocks and ticks,
My digital clock read 01:02:03:04:05:06!
What a strange, delightful sequence;
Doesn't occur with much frequence,
In truth, this will never again be seen
Until we are all dead and disappeared from the scene.
Hi! I've seen this long, long ago, but I must say, it is one of the most brilliant short poems I've ever read! How about having a competition :- Find a suitable title for the poem!
I saw this sweet poem in the bathroom today, on the wall... Here it is... Some of you may have seen this already... It is quite crude, but it is still really funny;
Here I sit
Broken hearted
Came to s___
but only f__ted
(do skréše) Ťokni na špilošovo méno a pak na oddil Okončeny špile, pak na méno špila a nakonec na orčité špil, nad kerym tak možeš přeméšlet do aleluja. (Servant) (okázat šecke vechetávke)