Monthly Archives: November 2014
He tried to jump, but his feet wouldn’t move
Even in dying he was not able to succeed
He seemed to be inferior at everything
At that moment he realized, he was really competent in being incompetent
His quality was to posses no quality’s at all
With a smile on his face he tried to climb back over the rail
He regained his confidence in life once again
But he should have known that it would go wrong
He slipped and fell, never being allowed to touch the ground
He remained floating in eternity
I am a 26 year old philosopher who lives in the Netherlands. I am interested in anything that makes us humans cultural beings. I like to write, story’s poems and take photo’s. The name of my blog is prevoid – fore the emptiness -. The main subject of my blog is the void that exists in life in modern society.
Joscelyn (8 years old) came home with an assignment to write a poem about Scotland because it was near St Andrew’s day. The instructions on what was required were a bit confusing. She has a piece of paper with SCOTLAND written vertically down the edge so each line began with a letter. She had to write something Scottish on each line with a describing word. It is difficult to do it “properly” but fun if you relax the rules. Here is what dad came up with while cooking tea. We are debating whether to send it to school as Joscelyn’s work.
Lochs and Lavies
Atlantic Antlers reach
Nearly to the North Sea
Dundee; Cake of Kings
Surely a poem almost as worthy as those by the great William Topaz McGonagall.
Sweetly, sweetly swirling,
a mass of fluffy seeds,
are drifting through the park
at the whim of windy leads.
Big, thick, black, white tree trunks
seem to walk around
like the legs of zebras
ambling on the ground.
Fountains in the laid out pools
look all so inviting;
I want to dip my feet in them
and swim, it’s quite exciting!
Tulips stand out from the crowd,
they nod to passers by
as smaller flowers blush
rosy red at bare blue sky.
A green stretches youthfully
aside from the path,
waiting for the picnicers,
shining summer’s mirth.
A weeping girl is out of place
on this buzzing day
yet the sadness of the world
is causing her to pray.
The danube tower rises up
at first to our dislike,
but later as a stretched-up ship
floating on a spike,
surveying all that’s down below…
the park, a bridge, a church.
We board ship and enjoy the view,
for landmarks make our search.
A funny purple train
is off on its tour,
showing off this merry land
we haven’t seen before.
The angels guard us overhead
i trust in their protection,
strolling through this wonderland
a heaven-ward direction.
by Emily Nash
The shock when I saw two pink lines,
The tears of confusion, what to do now,
Am I happy or sad, am I ready for this?
Our lives will change, suddenly a future with kids,
There’s no choice the bond is already strong,
Now praying that nothing goes wrong,
Now it’s all exciting, is it a girl or boy?
I cannot wait to meet our little bundle of joy.
one journeys through life stumbling – blind,
Never knowing what he may find;
He seeks for himself a place in the sun,
But much to his sorrow often finds none.
He asks himself what life is about,
What will happen when his flame flickers out?
Will he have the courage to face the day – –
The day he knows he must go his way,
And leave the world behind?
What will he find?
Will he miss the life he had here on earth?
For then he will know what his life was worth,
Is death really the end of living,
Or for some, is it just the beginning?
Anne Sexton was a model who became a confessional poet, writing about intimate aspects of her life, after her doctor suggested that she take up poetry as a form of therapy. She studied under Robert Lowell at Boston University, where Sylvia Plath was one of her classmates. Sexton won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1967, but later committed suicide via carbon monoxide poisoning. Topics she covered in her poems included adultery, , despair and suicide.
The Truth the Dead Know
by Anne Sexton
For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959
and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one’s alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
YOUR FAVOURITE POEM SENT IN BY YOU WHAT’S YOUR’S?
The Kids had just got off the buss at South Fork.
Everyone discussing what their plans were for Christmas.
All were getting excited talking about what they were wishing for come Christmas.
One Of the younger girls that had just been listening to th older kids,said I will be happy with what ever Santa Claus brings me.
An older boy named John said to her you don’t really believe in Santa Claus do you?
John’s Sister Mary said Honey there is no Santa Claus.
Within a few seconds four or five of the older Kids came to her and told her not to believe them,ofcourse there is a Santa Claus.
One at a time they began to relate to her telling her how Santa came to their house every Christmas.
After wipping a few tears from her cheeks she smiled and said I know there is a Santa Claus.
All the Kids just turned and looked at John and Mary as they walked away.
everyone began saying Bye and going to their own homes.
It was Still six days untill Christmas and everyone was buisy doing last minute shopping and preparing for Christmas.
Most of the kids still found time for fun and games.
John and Mary was very popular with all the Kids.
The fact that they didn’t believe in Santa Claus had no effect on their relationship with their friends on South Fork.
Two Days now untill Christmas and Clouds had gathered over head and a cool breeze was starting to blow and a few Snow Flakes were beginning to fall.
All over South Fork you could hear and see kids running and yelling trying to catch a few of the first snow Flakes.
Everyone was getting excited about having a white Christmas.
Only one day now untill Christmas Eve. with all the lights turned on every house every mobile home each adorned with all the beautiful lights,images of Angels, Crosses and Santa his Sleigh and Reindeers.
By the time it got dark South Fork Litup Like a hughe Christmas Tree.
Snow had now began to fall hard and faster everyone was sure now of having a white Christmas. Christmas Eve. and five or six inches of snow was on the ground and all the trees covered with a beautiful glistening white coat.
South Fork had become a beautiful wonder Land
All the kids were out enjoying an amazing Christmas Eve. on South Fork. As soon as it started getting dark most of the smaller kids had started going home so they could get to bed early and get to sleep so Santa could come.
John and Mary were the last to go home afterall there was no need for them to rush they didn’t believe in Santa Claus anyway.
By Midnight almost every kid on South Fork was tucked in bed many allready dreaming of Christmas morning.
That is except John and Mary they were still up and were talking about how all their friends still believed in Santa Claus.
When John and Mary finally went upstairs and went to bed it was only a few minutes and they were both sound asleep and both slept straight through the night.
Early christmas morning they both awoke to the sound of their Mothers voice at the foot of the stairs, getup kids breakfast is almost ready. They both jumped put on their Robes and met at the top of the stairs.
Even though they didn’t believe in Santa Claus they both knew there would be Presents under the tree for them.
They ran down the stairs and to the living room where the Christmas tree always were the room was dark John turned the lights on there was no Tree and no presents, they looked at each other and yelled Mom Dad where is the Christmas Tree? Where is our Presents? Mom was in the Kitchen they came in yelling Mom where is our Christmas tree and Presents.
Mom just looked at them and said what Christmas Tree and Presents? They ran back to the living room all they saw was an empty room.
They could hear voices outside Children running playing they went out on their front porch everywhere the looked they could see Children a little boy on his trycycle a little girl talking to her Doll,another on roller skates a boy and girl side by side on their bycycles. John and Mary walked to the road the kids began yelling to them look what Santa brought us. Many were asking what did Santa bring you?
All they could do was just stand there and watch while all the other children had all the fun and so went Christmas morning for John and Mary. soon the kids began returning to their homes Christmas was almost over as John and Mary walked slowly to their house Mary looked at John and ask when did you stop beleaving in Santa Clause? John just kinda shrugged his shoulders and said and you? After a few moments of silence Mary said do you think there could be a Santa Claus?
John said Nah; afterall he didn’t bring us anything. Mary answered maby thats why because we don’t believe in him. Yew could be is all John said as they entered their house.
After Dinner and a little TV. John and Mary decided to go to their rooms and listen to some music at the top of the stairs they said good night and went to their rooms.
Morning came and they both awoke to the sound of their Mom’s voice at the foot of the stairs are you two going to sleep all day.
In a few moments Mary was knocking on john’s door John ask her to come on in she said John I had the funniest Dream last night I dreamed I heard bells ringing on the roof right above my bed room. John said if you think that’s crazy I dreamed that someone upon the roof was yelling Merry Christmas to All.
Mary said oho well we had better get down stairs before Mom gets mad so they raced down the stairs Mom was standing at the livingroom door she motioned to them and said come on you two it is getting late they followed Mom into the living room.
They both stopped and their eyes almost popped out of their heads. Yhere in the corner was their beautiful Christmas Tree and beneath it were piles of beautiful wrapped boxes. They looked at eachother and then at their Mom and Dad.
Mom and Dad both were holding beautiful wrapped boxes in their hands. Mom handed hers to Mary and Dad handed his to John and said these are from your Mom and I, Merry Christmas!
After opening their presents from their Mom and Dad they ask who’s presents are those under the Tree.
After a closer look either John or Mary’s name was on all the packages. After all the packages were opened they both realized that every thing they had been wishing for all year was under the Tree. Then Mom noticed a plate of cookies on a small table she looked at the Kids and ask Did you two leave those cookies for Santa Claus? John and Mary looked at each other and said NOoo. Mom said wait there is a note here and she began to read it. Here are some extra cookies the Kids gave me more than I can eat Merry Christmas. Then it began to dawn on Mary and John that up untill this morning everything was just a dream untill they heard the Sleigh bells and the yelling of Merry Christmas to all from the roof top.
And that is when John and Mary started Believing in Santa Clause.
This is a story I told My two little Grandaughters.In the Conclusion I told them. Yes I believe in Santa Clause and always will because believeing in Santa Clause is more than getting Presents on Christmas morning more than a jolly little man in a Red and White Suit and Sleighs and Reindeers.
Its having Faith and Believing in something that you can look forward to. It’s being able to wish and believe it will come true.
It’s having Hope that there is something good coming your way.
Believing in Santa Claus is believing that dreams do come true.
To Me saying I don’t believe in Santa Claus would be like saying I nolonger Have faith or Hope or the desire to Wish and nolonger have a Dream. Yes for Me there will always be a “SANTA CLAUS”
Here comes the Retail Festival
Couched in glossy Christmas cheer
Spend spend spend the shops implore
Their merchandising moves up a gear
Must we overspend at Christmas
On presents that leave us skint
Many people are left in debt
So that shops can make a mint
Christmas time itself I fear
Has lost it’s friendly glow
People vying to see who can
Have the priciest presents on show
A small present to family members
There is no harm in this
But keeping up with the Joneses
Is some folks idea of bliss
Hundreds of pounds they are spent
On presents for all you know
Kids clamouring for the latest
Toy or game that is on show
Hotels and restaurants filled to the brim
Yet their prices are over the top
When shall all this madness end
And prices shall start to drop
Family Christmas’s used to be
A time to visit and chat
Yet to sit around the table
Nowadays is classed old hat
The festivities now I fear
Has nothing to do with Dec 25th
It’s all to do with materialism
Spending money on expensive gifts
In case you think I’m a scrooge
Take time to stop and think
What’s the purpose of all this spending
Other than bringing you to debt’s brink
It’s time for a revolution
A time to say enough’s enough
Resist the all empowering persuasion
Put the retailers in a huff
Celebrate Christmas? Of course we should
Yet let us break the trend
Rather than buy a material gift
Present yourself just as a friend
©Bob Smith 13/11/2009
how we’re beautiful
because we’re all made of stars.
And I think,
you stone cold
You bright, shining
son of a bitch.
Only a brilliant genius
could turn the stars ugly.
by Zachary D’mitri
No means to afford the psychotropic medications
The wheel is turning
A plot off course
Keel without rudder
Braving storms in circles
Tossed about taking hits
Warm hand in hand
Tender Voice Speaking…
But can’t hear a thing above the roar of a fierce wind
The breaking heart
Suffering in silence
Pain without violence
Seen from afar
Being gripped in anguish’s clutches
The torn garments
The stained Filthy rags
The weathered jeans
Too tender on the skin
To want to exchange for new
The physical threats
The pushes and shoves
The jostling about
Fitful night dreams
Tossed and turned
The cleansing cycle
The tumbling dry
When all is said and done
Still picking lint from each other’s clothes
And Bloodstains remain…
On brand new dress shirts
From a few pins left in it
And if it doesn’t fit
How can one ever get it to go back
Into a clear protective sleeve?
Once made aware of
The only freedom
At great cost
We find fault in others
While history blaringly declares
We have burned, beheaded, hung, tortured
Slain our own…
Time and again
Just as we do now
Infiltrated by treachery
Closing the gap of striking distance
Betrayed with a kiss
Eagles, hawks and owls ever vigil
Observe in silence
Like the ink of a pen
That needs refilling
That needs to be said
But the words have run dry
The conversation is dead
Fills the entire room
Doesn’t leave enough air
Only impending doom
Strangles those wanting
To let words out
But the big, hulking spider
Went up the waterspout
Nothing with meaning
is left for anyone to say
Only hot air coming in
And the debt no one wants to pay
Hatred coats tongues
Along with fire and despair
The debate seems to have ended
Has no hope of going anywhere
Let the people talk
Let the words flow
If you start with one sound
You might reap what you sow
My name is Alex. I write on a blog called Writing With Rhythm, at https://acriticinthecrowd.wordpress.com/ . Your blog was brought to my attention when you all favorited a few of my poems. It would be an honor to be featured on your blog with some of my poetry. I would love to get feedback and more views, and your blog seems like the perfect place to do it. I am going to share one of my favorite poems of mine
Thank you for the opportunity to possibly get read on your blog. I can’t wait to see what happens next.
A candles flame,
Dances in dark,
Casting shadows upon a wall,
That seem to tell a story,
From end to start.
I lit this candle for you
And whispered a prayer.
By the candle’s glow,
Prayed for your soul.
Just like you’d want me to,
I’d seen you do.
But I’m not you
And I must now reject,
Most of the things,
You taught me to do,
When your thinking,
had gone askew.
I’ll keep the best from you
And leave the rest to die,
Along with you.
I couldn’t bear to look at you,
With the painful smile,
They imposed on you.
I didn’t cry,
You wouldn’t want me to.
You weren’t there,
Just a shell,
But your spirit,
hovered over my head.
I thought it strange,
That then and there,
I showed no emotion.
One dead fish,
Floating upon a vast sea,
Still a part,
Of a mysterious,
I choose to remember the best,
Like how you taught me,
To tie a tie,
Or tie my shoes.
How we walked,
Hand in hand…
Or the first time I heard you weep.
On an island all alone,
trapped in a castle’s keep,
Your fear became my own,
What genetic signature?
Your pseudo strength,
behind a mask of fears.
I absorbed them well,
but there was something more,
something you knew deep inside,
but you rarely showed
and I barely saw.
You always said,
The day I was born.
Held me to a higher standard,
Set your hopes on me.
Placed me on a pedestal,
Of which I’d not felt worthy.
The burden was too great for me,
content to be happily,
tried my best,
to stay out of sight,
below the radar,
of God’s shimmering Light.
only come out at night.
As a child
you became blind in both eyes,
And a miracle surgery,
Before it’s time…
Restored your sight.
Raised in an orphanage when your father died,
In a hurricane threw his body over your’s to shield you,
And lost his own life, to save you.
You grew bitter and resentful,
Jekly and Hyde,
I saw both sides,
We all did.
Sometimes the Jekyl,
seemed well worth the Hyde.
You were extremely hard on me,
On all of us,
But I learned in time,
Where true Mercy rests’,
Learned through trials,
Learned through tests,
That God always knows best.
And things are never as they seem,
In the reality,
Of the Living Realm unseen.
What it was,
I’m freed to Love,
Freed to forgive.
Of what Jesus did on the Cross.
Healing the rift,
Bemoan the past?
Or freely accept,
A most freely given,
I choose Jesus,
I choose Life.
In the end,
You embraced the Lord,
Took some time for me
to be of the same accord,
Christ embracing you,
In Our Father’s arms,
Is now my brother,
The candle flickers,
wisp of smoke gently rises.
Rest in Peace Father/brother