A case of the fears - poetry
Chicken Soup is good for a cold
Sleep is good for the Flu
When I get a case of the Fears
What is a being to do?
It is not bacteria
Although it can eat away my soul
It is not a virus
Yet, it can keep me from air whole
I know what will do the trick,
What will put me back on top,
A great big bowl of Ice Cream
Will exceedingly hit the spot
That was great and now I am done
One bowl just won't do
If one is good, then more is great
And now I have eaten two.
Bowls three, four, five and six
Came and then they went
I think my case of the fears are fixed
Look at how my time was spent
I am being paid sleepy
It is time to go to bed
My fears are no longer in my stomach
Now they are in my head
I close my eyes and I can see
The Fears I want to kill
I will do, doesn't matter what it takes
To keep the monsters still.
When I rise to greet the day
My fears are rising too
I know I need a ally right now
Whatever will I do?
I walk into the kitchen
And Open the freezer door
I stop for my part and think real hard
I have been here once before.
I grab a seat in my comfy chair
And reach over for the phone
What will I say, if you are there?
I can hear a dial tone.
I enter all your numbers
You key right away
You sit and listen, as I speak
You said I would be ok.
We say good-bye and I start my day
I knew I had been wrong
I start to read and then to pray
To keep me air strong.
If you are like me then you will see
That the fears, they come and go
Be the character you were meant to be
Let your feelings show.
http://www. reflectingrace. com
Live For Today...
Isn't that what they say?But what does that mean?There's no characterization that mayanswer that question..
Give Me a Lily Pad & The Continuum [two Poems]
What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin? I gave up demanding to win the hearts of the many-. Throw the meat-balls aligned with the wall, stop, stop!! Trying to make them spin, like God did in the heavens!Sexual longings-a corridor to anger and rage- Turn the page to the cheap hotels, turn the page Give it a lane to run, tell your friends, they've won.
Anne Bradstreet, To My Dear and Loving Husband, A Discussion
"To My Dear and Loving Husband" was in black and white by America's first female poet, the Puritan, Anne Bradstreet. In fact, Anne Bradstreet is one of only a handful of female American poets at some point in the first 200 years of America's history.
AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an antiquated civilization the civilization of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the conversation drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your eternal minstrels have i not heard of your vacillation hips! i have heard a sufficient amount and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your sweet tongues the assorted tongues of your honest menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the look after earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the antique dynasty the antique family of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop.
Opposites Do Catch the attention of Quite Well
When I am climbing up, you are stepping down. When I wear a smile, you wear a frown.
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
Learn about love by conception poetry by a long dead poet named Rumi. No need to look for antediluvian texts concealed in caves.
Song of the Great Zimbabwe, and Silver and Inca Blood [Poems and notes]
"Song of the Great Zimbabwe"Across the African, winter's skyIn the Southern edge of Zimbabwe Looking down from the Hill ComplexFrom on top, of an Antediluvian Rock O'er the mountains steep-:A, vista I've longed to see, residesA site, I've longed to meet-; Thus, dwells, inside this African Valley,Among the maximum of man's feats? The great, Great Zimbabwe (Enclosure).A million-stones, built these antediluvian wallsSome twelve-fathoms, fathoms high That seems to reach unto the sky;Some say: a fortress, and palace, it is; And perhaps-, the legendary 'Ophir!'#747 7/2/05Silver and Inca BloodIn the Great Silver mines of Potosi-(Inca Indians) Conscripted mine workersCarry Quotas of ore-up hundreds of feetOf rope laddered-steps For don Francisco de ToledoAnd King Philip II, of Spain-;A farcified apparition to becomeRich-off Inca blood, In the year-1571?#744 7/1/05Notes: (The Inca Empire): the guess is often that the Inca Empire was a large venture of its self; a communal confuse at best; difficult for sure; but for the most part, the Inca Empire was comprised of ethnic groups who were dominated into the Inca Empire, alike to the Roman, which was a city inhabitants [Empire] you might say, who dominated the whole world into its Roman Empire; likewise, so did the Incas of South America.
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a grate afire.I never met a man, who could smile so easy, real honest.
Write Your Way to Fame
Have you ever brain wave about how nice it would be to see your poem discussed in the New York Times? Think you have what it takes to befall a illustrious poet? Well the adverse truth is that no one has what it takes to be a eminent poet. Here's a a small amount exercise: Name the most eminent contemporary poet you can think of.
"I heard what you said, Red. Yet, I have to disagree.
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
In this current age of technology, busy lifestyles, and obsession with consumerism have taken a lot of the romance and love out of our lives. The Internet has befit a average to fix with associates as each is judgment it a lot harder to meet one a further in the 'real' world.
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's admire the poet to his Hell and heaven! Count his Ghosts and dilemma's?Reach out to touch his Stretched-out skies; let's follow The poet to see where he lays.Let's admire the poet to his end; To see if he can?whatever He wants to do, do over again?.
The Poets Bend [Three Poems with a review]
The Poet's Corner [Three poem/ see analysis of poetry under the poems]The Poets CondorThe condor fly's Amongst the hillsIn open skies Of San Jerrónimo, Near Huancayo?Forbidding any To near his path-Lest he dare To risk a attack, Near Huancayo!..
A Hundred and Fifty Dead [Korean War--l952]
There I sat, ninety-five extent weatherOutside; the bookstore café, was cool.An Old Timer stood by me, explaining:"There were two-hundred of us on the Island,Near North Korea, back in '52-We guarded 16,000-prisners?"All of a sudden, all hell broke looseThree-hundred North Koreans cameOver the bob-wired fence, in pursuit"It all happened in a be important of secondsThe machineguns killed 150-of themThat's all I saw in the war of '52.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and common conversations with the public,one of the most challenging questions for me to answer(timely and thoroughly) is,"Why do you enjoy writing"?So due to the challenge manifested in such a question,I pondered on creating an answer. Many reasons came to mind,but after digesting much"time for thought",I managed to condense my rejoinder to three items.
Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]
Cesar Vallejo: Black RosesBow down your head ol' poet- To face God's grace ahead There are no more trenchesTo dig today? In the plant of your head,So-: Bow down, bow down,Ol' barbaric poet! Death rides the horse ahead I hear the crackling of a whip See the wild eyes of death.He directive you to his den- The devil and his wind,So-: Bow down, bow down Your blood discolored brows He will take you to the edge.
You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more..
Ballade of an Inca King
Ah! Leave the gold, wealth and landSays the Inca King?; In Spain, they leave the active streets, For sail to Peruvian shores;The mumble of the gold is sweet,It glows and glistens like the sun A mountain of gold, or the grave Awaits the human, Inca-god?!Spaniards sing their songs of victoryWhere breaks the green Peruvian sea; Who now, worships the Inca King (?) Guarded after prisons doors-?They gossip about his fair-haired ringsThey watch the winds cross the shores? They count the days that idle by, For gold they worship and will die.Envoy.
Poetry in a Nutshell
Poetry is more than just rhyming and prose that is in meters and verse. It is an art form.
Five Poems from Home [And a view on the globe vs. the poet]
Five Poems from Home1) Remembering: Dorothy Parker [Dedicated to the 1920s Poetess]Let it be said, Dorothy Parker lies dead, cremated to ash and poetry; thus, she died at the ripe old age of seventy-three-.The tiny woman with a big mouth, who got fixed in the rain and couldn't get out: continued to play the game, all the same, like drops of rain upon a pane.
|home | site map|
|goldenarticles.net © 2018|