One for Andy
Loved your poem about those
carefully-prepared but slightly
mis-timed, Famous Last W...
but as Lazarus said, there's always
the replay factor.. though not many of us
get to check back on our timing
or so we might think but then who knows
but the audience, they have
to live with it: a farmer friend
saw to the cattle, came back in,
had his supper, suddenly said to her
I've got to go m'dear
she said oh won't you stay for a cuppertea
he said no I've got to go
and dropped down dead
she remembers the conversation all too clearly
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
My Dear Friend
you have been there for me no matter what
you have pick me up when i fall down
my dear friend
you are the reason why i am still alive
you are the reason why i can love again
because of you i have the strength to fight against enemies
you understand the pain i'm going through
you make me stand up on my feet
my dear friend
you have always there waiting for my call
you have always put a smile on my face when i feel sad
my dear friend
what would i do without you
who would i be without you
you never avoided me like everybody else
god drift us apart
we no longer see each other face again
my dear friend
everything seems different and harder when you're here
my tears are like waterfall
they keep on falling
my dear friend
please come back into my life
holding hands in the darkness
sing our favorite song until we fall asleep
my dear friend
let finish what we has started together
alone it will take years
my dear friend
you fight my fight
you got my back
my dear friend
how could i thank you
what should i do to please you
oh my dear, dear friend
it is a pleasure to have you as a friend
thank you my dear, dear friend
poem by Guenael Oristel
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A comment on contemporary poetry
Not a true poem, to former minds;
but a poem that remembers truth;
not a good poem, to former minds;
but a poem that remembers goodness;
not a beautiful poem, to former minds;
but a poem that remembers beauty;
myself, as blissful
as a stretching cat.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Im Going Slightly Mad
Words and music by queen
When the outside temperature rises
And the meaning is oh so clear
One thousand and one yellow daffodils
Begin to dance in front of you - oh dear
Are they trying to tell you something
Youre missing that one final screw
Youre simply not in the pink my dear
To be honest you havent got a clue
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - ooh oh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear
Im one card short of a full deck
Im not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
Im not my usual top billing
Im coming down with a fever
Im really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think Im a banana tree
Oh dear
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - uh huh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear
Ooh ooh ah ah
Ooh ooh ah ah
Im knitting with only one needle
Unravelling fast its true
Im driving only three wheels these days
But my dear how about you
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened
It finally happened - oh yes
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Just very slightly mad
And there you have it
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Running All Day
I see him on TV and everyday you can see me
getting more wound up by the fact that he's loved
You dont know who he is, I was once that kid
Fans screaming my name but now there not.
And I know who's to blame.
He took it all from me everything that I own
Left me with nothing broke and unknown
If theres one thing I know im gonna take it all back
The gloves are off and anyway that I can
rip him down from ontop of that thrown
Then we'll see whos really unknown
standing toe to toe he doesn; 't stand a chance
He's gonna learn the hard way what it means to be a man.
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to give your own life.
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to take another mans life.
Knocked down once, get up again
Knocked down twice see the other man dead.
Led to war by the skin of our teeth
Friends and enemies share the same seats.
They're sweet together cos they know what its like
To live this life that takes you by suprise.
Anytime, day or night, priority one just to stay alive.
And that's what you just cant see
The fact that your just not me
You cant ask questions bout living this life, only ones that know already those that died.
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to give your own life.
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to take another mans life.
But this is it no place left to go
your gonna hand it back everything that you stole
and now we're patiently gonna wait and see
what the world has to say bout you and me
If they'll take you side after all this time
and believe the lies that you drove inside
but I still have faith that its not a dead end race
and I place my life in the hands of the good lords grace
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to give your own life.
Running all day
Gunning all night
Be prepared to take another mans life.
poem by Paul Daniel
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Consolation
Dear,
There is a poem for every audience
And an audience for every poem-
This may not be yours-audience, that is,
Or it may-
Poets are jealous creatures
And justifiably-
Self-absorption is not the same as selfishness
You can make a good case for it.
On line, as in life
People rarely get what they deserve.
Just as Truth is relative.
This I'm telling you, so you know.
Trust me, I'm a lawyer.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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You will love, the dead.
A friend I loved
a friend I wanted
a friend I needed
a friend I adored
but she never believed
a friend I respected most
a friend I cared most
a friend I believed most
a friend I trusted most
a friend I wrote to most
she is now the one I ignore most.
a friend I most thought about
a friend I wished for the best.
I will always never know the best
a friend whio turned to be the beast
in all my love like a predator in forest
I was harmless to her like a dove
I wish I could live as brave as a lion
the girl I gave a valentine day to run.
See she is furious on me like eagle.
She is as crue as death, to my life
she is fierce to me as a grave
all I know, if you come back
you hate me, only you will love me
when Iam dead,
poem by Samweli Butobi
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Thank God I Do
I've been famous...
Infamous, defamed and dismissed!
I've sat to be spat upon by a few,
To forget and forgive and then kissed!
And I've dropped to the bottom,
To crawl painfully back to the top!
And I've dropped to the bottom,
To crawl painfully back to the top!
In a monotonous cycle...
That have flipped flopped more than not!
Several times I've obtained possessions...
To discard or leave behind.
With many successes and regrets of regresses.
With lessons coming difficult...
Back to back some came sometimes!
And today I'm very proud to say,
How blessed I know I am!
My life could be a whole lot worse
Than those who curse theirs...
Not sharing or caring or giving a damn!
I thank God I do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Can I go Home Now
I just want to go home,
I want to go there
Where I was loved and cherished
To an extent I couldnt bare.
I want to go back home
To heath town and long ley
Theres nothing left for me here
Just pain cos thats all I see
I want to go back home
Cos I miss it there so much
I need to go back home
I need to get back in touch
Can I go back please
I miss it there a lot
Can I go back now please
The hurting become to much
I need to go back now
Just to stay sane
Thanks for everything
And thanks for all the pain
Bye London x
This poem is when I just moved to london and i really kinda didn't fit in after being so popular at my old school
To my dear friend, who brought me back from a terrible place
A dear friend lifts you up,
brings you back from a hellish life.
A dear friend makes you smile,
even as tears stream down your face.
A dear friend shows you that life has meaning,
that your worth something and you belong.
A dear friend tells you how they care,
let you know that you are important and priceless to them.
A dear friend loves you no matter what,
no matter your imperfections or you faults.
A dear friend is always there,
to make it all better, to make your crappy day go away.
A dear friend is what everyone needs,
what everyone deserves.
A dear friend is given from God,
the greatest gift the heavens could ever give.
Thank you Buddy!
poem by Angelic Warrior
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No No No
No No No"
Well im fozen in
like a soldier
don't know where it stays all over the place
time froze
like an ocean
don't know the taste of a never ending ache
[Chorus]
No No No
Why i hurry when im home
I hurry when im home
No No No
Why i hurry when im home
I go I'll go
Its really not bad not worse than you thought
He'll never come back hes the man you dropped
he'll never come back hes the man you loved
Its not that bad not worse than you thought
he'll never come back hes the man you dropped
he'll never come back hes the man you loved
I told her
I told her
I told her No No No
song performed by by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No No No
No No No"
Well im fozen in
like a soldier
don't know where it stays all over the place
time froze
like an ocean
don't know the taste of a never ending ache
[Chorus]
No No No
Why i hurry when im home
I hurry when im home
No No No
Why i hurry when im home
I go I'll go
Its really not bad not worse than you thought
He'll never come back hes the man you dropped
he'll never come back hes the man you loved
Its not that bad not worse than you thought
he'll never come back hes the man you dropped
he'll never come back hes the man you loved
I told her
I told her
I told her No No No
song performed by by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Most Famous I Am Poem
The most famous 'I Am' poem came from the pen of John Clare
When in Northampton mental asylum his type of person rare
Since when mentally unwell his best poems he did pen
One of the most amazing in his time of literary men.
The most famous 'I Am' poem of self does not boast
From the pen of one who to self never drunk a toast
A poor and mentally ill and near forgotten man
One close to the end of his tragic life span.
The most famous 'I Am' poem to it has a sad ring
'Tis not of the wonderful life it does sing
Now used as the anthem poem of the mentally ill
The most famous 'I Am' poem life's cup of dark sorrows does fill.
The most famous 'I Am' poem not a great song of life
But of one who had struggled with his inner strife
From the heart of a poor poet a cry of despair
The most famous 'I Am' poem from the pen of John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If You're Going To The Ball At All
If you're going to the ball at all,
Be prepared to be the topic of the week.
And,
Be the one prepared to leave...
Jaws dropped.
And people awed.
If you want to be the one at the ball,
To set the record straight and hear the boos...
You boo back at the ones doing it to you.
'Cause you are too far out in space.
Too ahead of time and first place in the race.
And you're too much! Too soon...
Delivering a taste people have yet to crave.
And too amazing to be dismissed as the next rage.
If you're going to the ball at all,
Be prepared to be the topic of the week.
And,
Be the one prepared to leave...
Jaws dropped.
And people awed by your technique that will be copied.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Please Come Back To Me
Sittin in the car
One spring break afternoon
Knowin u couldn't be far
And that I'd see you soon
Away from you
Is where I hate to be
But get a clue
And please come back to me
Please come back to me
I miss your crazy mind
I want you to be
Here so you'll find
You'll eventually see
So please come back to me
My life isn't the same
Without you here
I'd rather have you over all the fame
To the ground just dropped my tear
Away from you
Is where I hate to be
If you love me too
Then please come back to me
Please come back to me
I miss your crazy mind
I want you to be
Here so you'll find
You'll eventually see
So please come back to me
By now it's almost dark
As far as I can see
Now walkin alone in a park
So please come back to me
Please come back
Please come back
Please come back
I want you here with me
Please come back
Please come back
Please come back
Oh how lonely it can be
Please come back
Please come back
Please come back
Back here with me
Please come back
Please come back
Please come back
Come back and you'll see
So please come back to
Please come back to
Please come back to
Please come back to me
Please come back to
Please come back to
Please come back to
Please come back to me
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Christmas (Tuckerman sonnet)
(after A. E. Housman)
Home are the soldiers, they are home and free,
they are home from the far off battlefield
never to a man’s will again to yield
home with loved ones, some friends to see.
Home is the farmer from the working field
where many acres of land lies prepared,
he is at the place where he wants to be
safe under God’s almighty constant shield
free from all kinds of dark iniquity
tranquillity is in the open veldt,
the evening falls, twilight is at hand,
with his cattle all having being cared
and soldier’s dance with a happy band,
close the farmer’s wife is being held
[Reference: XXII “Home is the sailor, home from sea” by A. E. Housman.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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About the War Poem
This poem is about
The impossibility of writing
A poem about the war
Now don't go getting disappointed
You probably know everything
You really need to know
About the war
There's nothing more a poem could tell
Than what's in the lines of the dailies
That you read between so carefully
Nothing I could show you
That you haven't seen already
In your nightmare dreams or when
Your eyes are open
Nor could I shed enlightenment
On all the things we may not be
At liberty to mention
The silent tortured prisoners
Assassinations, smears and lies
And all the secret crimes
You know are passing by
There are some more events of war
Give me a minute to recall
I'm a little sleep-deprived
I learned with snakes and scorpions
Don't threaten them or step on them
It works with all kinds of people too
I know there is no other side
Everyone is born a child
The other side is only in the mind
I hear justice is on our side
It's somewhere here apparently
Check in your back pocket for me please
Well if it could, the poem would claim -
Before the subject's forced to change -
That peace is firmly on our side
Peace, well there's a useful thought.
I'm sure that we all could run with that.
This is no more a poem
About a poem about the war.
poem by Frank Bana
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Take Me Back
Take me back to see you smile again
And the love you had for your friends
Take me back for the times we had
When we joked and laughed take me back
'Cause I know you'll live forever
And I know we're still together
thru' your music and your love
Take me back, oh take me back, Oh take me back
You were proud and strong
You taught me right from wrong, what a friend!
Take me back for the words you spoke
always get me home to the end
'Cause I know you'll live forever
And I know we're still together
thru' your music and your love
Take me back, take me back.
Take me back to see you smile again
And the love you had for your friends
Take me back for the times we had
When we joked and laughed take me back
'cause I'm lonely If you only could take me back
Take me back, won't you take me
Oh take me back, won't you take me, take me back,
Won't you take me, oh take me back,
I love the life that you live and the things that you give
So won't you take me, oh take me back
Won't you take me, (oh) take me back,
You said the strong would survive,
Oh Lord, gotta try
So won't you take me, oh take me back,
Won't you take me, oh take me back
There's just one thing to say:
Brother, I love you!
Won't you take me back...
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus Saves
Some people find Jesus
In the back of a old country church
Some find Him
In an worn out bible book
But I found Jesus
In the heart of a dear old friend
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave back to me again
She told how He loved me
That He never walked away
For that's when I saw His love
In her eyes that very day
Oh how lucky I have been
To have a believer as a friend
For when I was lost and at my bitter end
She brought me back to Him
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave it back again
Now when people ask me
If there really is a God
I just look them in the eye
Give them a simple nod
For if it wasn't for my friend and God
I wouldn't be here today
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave it back that day
poem by David Kush
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An Almost Made Up Poem
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
I answered and never heard from you again.
you used to write insane poems about
ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you
knew famous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,
go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous
because we’ never met. we got close once in
New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never
touched. so you went with the famous and wrote
about the famous, and, of course, what you found out
is that the famous are worried about
their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed
with them, who gives them that, and then awakens
in the morning to write upper case poems about
ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told
us, but listening to you I wasn’ sure. maybe
it was the upper case. you were one of the
best female poets and I told the publishers,
editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’
magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,
but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder.
your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying
bench every night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never
heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide
3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you
I would probably have been unfair to you or you
to me. it was best like this.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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