How's that Ashu, dark enough for ya, buddy?

I wish we had an edit button... OK to make a little change?

My Verse:

Poised there in free-flight splendor
I come unbound to thought
sensate rapture has me caught
on nature's gossamer breath I soar ...

Good going guys! I wonder if there are enough poets in here to end it? Maybe by the end of Jan 03

Kim, yo-yo home girl...keep on wrappin'!

Another Angela pwem (written earlier this year) to throw into the pot...

***************************************************************

Titled, "If only I could heal the world"

There are too many hearts left alone in the universe

So many kind words that are too often left unspoken

Precious, innocent children with no one to depend on

Yet they manage to survive without their spirits being broken.



People living day to day behind cold isolating walls

Sometimes dreaming sometimes screaming down their echoing halls

Wishing someone could just care…to just be aware

That they exist, that they’re worthwhile, that they are there.



There’s an old man sitting in his tattered chair staring off into space

So much pain etched into his sad and yet kindly, well worn, wrinkled face

By himself he faces without friend or family his very last breath

One tear trickles down his cheek as he succumbs to his death.



Little girl sings swinging on a tire swing with a winsome smile on her face

She goes higher, blocking out the sun with her feet, imagining outer space

She shuts her eyes tightly as she dreams of a somehow and of some way

When she can escape the abuse that her tiny body suffers every day…



Johnny goes through life wounded inside, a troubled teen without direction

He grew up in a household of drugs and violence without love, without affection

Bullies tease him at school each day, if only they could just hear Johnny pray

It’s all too much; he gets his father’s gun and finally ends his life in his mental fray.



A woman crouches in the dark calling for help, shakily clutching her phone

Bruises and welts tattoo her body, glimpsed only by the moonlight that shone

She whispers a cry but her throat has gone dry and she’s bleeding much too much

Curling into a fetal position she passes out…the phone still in her clutch.



If only I could heal the world

If only I just could

If only I could sacrifice myself

For the greater good



If only I could heal the world

If I could take away all the pain

I’d make the world a better place

Where people were happy again…



If only…but I DO feel

You are real

Wish I could heal…

And take away your hurt…

*************************************************************************


Hmmm. Ashu, come to think of it...most of my poems are usually on the downer side! I've been writing poetry since I was 13 and I guess it I always used it as a way to get in touch with my feelings that I usually kept hidden. No wonder I hardly write poetry when I'm in a good mood.

Jam,...one of my favorites from The Eagles:

"The Last Resort"

She came from Providence,
the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang
heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea

She heard about a place people were smilin'
They spoke about the red man's way,
and how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand
or a place to hide

Down in the crowded bars,
out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
what it's like up there
And they called it paradise
I don't know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
while the town got high

Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
through the canyons of the coast, to
the Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
hungry for power
to light their neon way
and give them things to do

Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
people bought 'em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea

You can leave it all behind
and sail to Lahaina
just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: "Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down
Brought the white man's reign

Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny and the name
of God

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it's like up there
They call it paradise
I don't know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye

I need some Fuzzy Logic hugs

Thanks Jam. Sorry AngEla_27, it was not meant to make you sad. Mostly, it is a lyric that makes one think. Please don't be sad.

Dorante is persistent, if nothing else.

Motion...((((HUG)))) You and your post didn't make me sad...

Ashu, I wholeheartedly agree with your assessment...I also think every man/woman can be an artist too...just a lil' practice is all...

To me, creativity is the ability to let oneself go and go and oops...dang...almost fell off the cliff. he-he

Here is one from a friend of mine...she will probably slap me upside the head for this but...

Master Of The Night

"On wings of blue the sun slinks
down the western sky.
Its rays spread around the day
to draw it in to die.
Silence surrounds the world
that mourns the day's eve,
As a proud moon appers concerned
with its birth you recieve.
The dark, bleak coldness broke
only by rays of silver light
Tell all it is the master
of the dark, sullen night."

Angel_Wings gives more hugs to elvee for contributing to the grandest of all poetry threads started by our beloved, Ashu!

Angel_Wings chases elvee and tickles him until tears roll down his eyes!

Angel_Wings thinks JM just wrote something ever so lovely! (((HUG)))