Category: Writers Block
Here is a poem that I think you all might like:
Enchantment
Chelsea Armstrong
There is a place
That I call
Dream Land.
It is a place that I visit every night,
and to whom I invite.
I may spend
hours away
in this
enchanted place,
where there
is know pain
nor sorrow
to be found
miles
upon miles
away.
People in this Dream World,
Treat me
As if
I were a queen
From far,
Far
away.
With ribbons and bows,
and sashes and froes,
it is one big party
that no one can BE TARTY.
Sweet music can be heard
Where ever you go.
From stringed
to wind instruments,
there is nothing
so sweet
as the sound
of the
enchanted music
playing above.
But look out!
Evil is on its way!
Just the next door over
And a step away!
Stay near the party,
and have some fun.
Look away from the evil one
As he ventures near.
Time is passing,
The party dying,
Children crying
As hearts are longing.
How they wish
The party could continue,
Yet hours are few
As morning is new.
It is time to awake
From the happiness
That makes my night
So enjoyable.
So I say,
Come with me
To the world of
Dream Land
Where we will
Once again,
Find the enchanted party.
Come and drink
From the river of happiness.
You will
Find peace in abundance.
Come
just as you are
And hear
the music call.
Come.
wow, i wish my dreams were like that, lol. i always have nightmares nightmares nightmares.
Same here. That poem was what I wish my dreams were like. What a lovely place it would be.
I wrote the poem just out of borrdom. Fancy that. LOL...
Awww poor Mel lol! This is a nice poem.
Ah, thanks. Does anyone have any poems to share? I am open for fun, upbeat, and loving poems. Bring, it, on!
Here's one I wrote.
The Burden of Confusion
October 8, 2002, Tuesday
You never know if you're right or wrong,
Or if the tricky question will again come along.
You try and try and try so hard,
But in your stomach, the feeling is quite jarred;
The feeling of confusion,
It burdens the diffusion,
Of knowledge and glee and joy.
It is really bad,
And it is very sad,
And it hurts every girl and boy.
It sits in your mind,
Neither evil nor kind,
Just a lump, just a wad, just a drag.
All efforts and attempts and tries and woe,
Packed up in a little black bag.
It sits very still,
Just ready to kill,
It will not ever move.
It's with you all day,
And nothing you can say,
Can make it go away.
It can block fun,
And it blocks out the sun,
From entering your world,
It makes your eyes grow tightly shut,
And your eyebrows tightly furled.
It can be controled,
It can be stopped,
I could just put up my hand.
Then teachers and parents from all over the land,
Could lend their helping hand.
So ask your parent, and ask a friend,
And all the confusion will die a bad end.
Heres' one more. I haven't written any poems lately. Well I did last year, when I was in the heat of anger, but they're really bad and blah. So here's another old one.
The Wild Gorilla
I came one day to a forest dark,
When the moon was tilted in an arc.
The water ran, and the trees did sway,
But all I cared about was play play play.
But I was stuck, in a football egg,
And I could not do more than beg,
"Let me hatch, enter the world,
My wildness, joy and glee are furled,
They're hidden here inside this shell,
And when I'm free, I'll do quite well."
So a fellow gorilla jumped from a tree,
And seized this egg that now held me.
She waited with it on her lap,
Until she heard a jarring snap.
The egg burst open, and there I stood,
With a hat that looked more like a hood.
I wore a shirt with a message across the ribs,
"Harry Potter," it said, "first dibs."
I was but a foot tall,
And, to beat it all,
I was jumping up and down,
And spinning all around!
Hat tipped back, revealing a buzzed head,
My eyes leaped and danced, and then I said,
"Here I am, look at me,
I'm here for you to see..
A grin rose like a mountain,
And from nowhere came a fountain,
Of energy, fast and wild,
And the new gorilla child,
Me,
Ran for the nearest tree,
For that's where I wanted to be.
I grabbed a limb,
And my energy overtook its brim,
And I was off,
Swinging and singing through the branches.
The grown gorilla who had watched me hatch,
Stood, watching, in the green grass patch.
Looking on, with a smile,
As I ran a long, long mile,
Down a lane of red wood trees,
Ignoring bugs, flies and bees.
The trees' leafy arms clawed my clothes,
But I turned and merely posed.
My smile was shy, timid but kind,
And it was meant to firmly bind,
The older gorilla to myself,
So we'd be together on the same shelf.
She smiled back, calling to me,
And I laughed and ran on past an oak tree.
My sweat pants flapped,
My soft shoes tapped,
Kicking up soil,
As I ran like a royal.
The gorilla who found me and witnessed my birth,
Was a kind female of affection and mirth.
She lived in the forest, but when the herd moved on,
She stayed behind, for her ankle had gone.
It was broken, now useless to her,
And as she stood, it lay cloaked in its fur.
She shuffled after me, foot dragging over the ground,
But I outran her in a single bound.
When I returned after a few hours,
I held what I had found in some bowers,
A bunch of white flowers.
I held out my hand,
She took them, brushed away some sand, and said,
"Oh, aren't these grand!"
I bounced on my feet,
Patted the older gorilla's knees,
And said, "Be my friend,
Oh pretty please please!"
And this older gorilla laughed,
As we stood there in that shaft,
Of moonlight from the moon,
That sat in its cuckoon,
Of sunset.
So high in the dark blue sky.
It began to rain that fateful day,
Water was falling every way.
But still I ran through the thick undergrowth,
And brought back enough food to feed us both.
And my jaws were always shaped,
So my teeth gleamed, but gaped,
In that grin of glee, mischief and devilish thoughts,
My eyes nothing but dancing dots.
Every day, if the fog lifted, or the sun shone,
I ran around, voice ringing like a phone.
I'd race, faster than any lad,
Giving running all the zest I had.
I swung from branches and ran across the ground,
Jumping, spinning and racing around.
I'd sit on my haunches and build things from leaves,
I'd chase off all the mean and wild thieves.
The coyotes feared, loathed and ran from me,
The wolves would see me and began to flea.
I was wild and pure,
Confident and sure,
That a great life lay ahead,
And that before I was dead,
I would do something cool,
And not be just a gorilla ghoul.
After a year of life in the wild,
I underwent something unheard of in a child.
I transformed into a fetus ready to be born,
And with a whistle that sounded a lot like a horn,
I waved to the forest, said goodbye,
And promised it my wildness would never die.
I was born to the parents I have now,
Who cannot tell me exactly how,
They were entrusted with a wild thing,
A wild gorilla-ling.
My female gorilla friend was transformed into a grown-up,
And now she has finally owned up,
That she knew me in my past life,
That she happened to be the wife,
Of a male gorilla whose herd left without her,
Because they may have grown to doubt her.
This gorilla and I are now friends,
And though our wildness twists and bends,
We are still pure of heart,
For once it has managed to start,
The purity remains the most special part,
Of who you are.
We love, care, help and teach,
We read, write, sing and reach.
We talk of passion and protection of others,
Not just your family; sisters and brothers.
Our lives in the forest,
Have paved the smooth way for us.
For we understand humans and how they live,
We know exactly what they have to give.
And we know what we can do,
We know how we can help you.
By being ourselves, by being wild,
We share the love that has been piled,
In our hearts to keep
And, when the time arises,
To drop out into the world so deep.
Beauty is of little worth,
Instead, concentrate on the people on Earth.
How much they offer,
How much they can share,
How much they can teach,
If you only dare,
To look into their hearts, minds and souls.
Wow Caitlin! Good poem! I don't think I have ever posted a poem with such a good message. Awesome job!
I had a dream, oncewhen I was a child,
a dream so gentle and mild.
Without worry or care,
I floated, lighter than air.
I floated low and high,
all through the sky.
I flowed along, filled with happiness and mirth,
till once again I woke, bound to the earth.
For the next several nights, the dream was the same,
but then it left me, as suddenly as it came.
When I knew the dream would come no more, I felt sorely depressed,
But of all the dreams I will ever have, this will forever remain the best.
wonderwoman
I had the idea to write about that dream when I was reading this topic last night, but it wasn't till a little while ago that the words started coming.
wonderwoman
I like the poetry I've read here so far. It's great to see creativity. Keep the poems coming. I write poetry. I'll share one with you.
Wherever you go, whatever you do,
always remember, I'll be loving you!
Day or night, rain or shine,
I just want you to be mine.
You make my day in a special way,
now I want you please to stay.
Through all the good and all the bad,
I'll be the best you've ever had.
So, won't you spend your time with me?
You won't regret it, just wait and see.
I wrote that poem a long time ago.
Wow, you all can write so good poems!! I could barely do it in German!!
Wow awesome poems y'all! For those of you who haven't seen them, I have a buncha poems and songs on the Writers' Block board. Go check 'em out! Once again great job!
Future
Chelsea Armstrong
My door is like
a fire in a fireplace
Burning brightly.
With red words
Written all over it.
“Enter,”
it says,
“and see what lies beyond
the forbidden door.”
Sad, sober, and solid
Is my door.
With the sign
Of loneliness
Written all over it.
With words that invite
College bound students
To enter
in to a new world
Of
Wonder and discovery.
So I say,
let us open
This mysterious door,
and go through the door
On to college,
Where we will begin our future
As college bound
students.
here we go again, depressing poetry all the way. Poetry is so much better when it's depressing don't you think. I wrote this one for a special someone.
One last time:
As the seconds turn to hours, days turn to minutes,
we grasp desperately with the will of the mind.
praying, begging and pleeding from this world,
to forbid, just once, the passage of time.
moments of bliss, fleeting glimpses of a world,
that was destined never to occur.
engraving impressions, feelings and sensations,
to someday relive what I once thought they were.
wind howling, clothes pressing, the warmpth of skin on skin,
one notices much more of location.
when it's known that something beautiful is dieing,
there is silence, only unspoken sensation.
reluctant movement after movement, we pull away,
each craving the touch of the other.
And only then could I find the words I needed to say,
only then, could I say I loved her.
no fair, i can't write poetry mine's terrible but there are good poems here.
there sure are. some people can just keep coming up with them all the time, but they just don't come to me that often.
wonderwoman
I liked the one about the computer you wrote on writers block. :)
thanks Alison, computers are jussst cranky enough to talk mean to us if they could. computers are like electronic people, lol.
wonderwoman