Post Your Poetry Here!

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Instead of having individual threads for poetry we write,
let's post the poetry we write into only one thread.

I'll start.

Skeleton Part One

Here he is sprawled on a couch watching television
A tall, undernourished, pale human is he
Shackled at the elbows and ankles, his movement is limited
To no more than sitting, standing, or reclining
Eating, drinking, or reliving himself is a challenge
Showering is a challenge as well
The skeleton is allowed no more than 10 minutes in the shower
For the skeleton, exercising is prohibited
He is only allowed the daily newspaper for reading
And only three books for one week
No telephone, no email, no outside correspondence is allowed
For amusement, two DVDs for one week
His post-secondary academics are only computer-based.
Who is this skeleton we are observing?

He is a skeleton in his own house
His family bullies him to do their bidding
And their bidding only
If he fights back, the skeleton will be made homeless
Into a world he is not prepared to manage
A world where he will be rejected with glee
A world where he has been fed propaganda by family
He has been supplied with half truths and hypocrisy
However, sophistication runs surprisingly high
For one who was treated like a hostage by his own family
The main ransom is freedom
As he craves liberty and independence.


Running he does, happening upon the main region of the neighborhood.
A library, a restaurant, and a coffee shop he sees.
Where will he go?
Drained from running, a bench is our skeleton’s relaxation.
Or is it a hallucination?

Why is it that I didn't trust anyone, for so long?
That I'd rather ingest poison, and be numb
Throw away, no escape, more delay, and pain's most strong
Had my fill, of blackness distilled, the instance gone
To an age when, I'm ancient, had to get killed, to live on
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I liked your poem. I can relate. I wrote this one after I had gotten past the described stage, last year.

_________________
Turn away from all the things of men- Turn away from the old deeds of sin- Turn away (,follow me,) ta never feed what's been- Turn away -- Jesus
the five senses are overrated
So, what is this relating thing you speak of?

A Cute Poem For Billy Idol
When I think of you
I Can`t help but quiver
When I look at you
I get chills and I shiver
You make me so jubilant
So giddy and wild
So peppy and crazy
With laughter and smiles
Nobody holds
A candle to you
You make me feel
So fresh and new
You have a billion watt smile
That can light up the whole town
The city of LA
And all that surrounds
Even though I`m 3,000 miles away
You still turn my frown
Upside down
You make me want to go wild
Like jump on the bed
Run all around
Skip down the street
And scream really loud
Sing
Dance
Even dance in the rain
Parachute out
Of a very high plane
Stand on the rooftop
And scream to the heavens
“I`ll LOVE BILLY IDOL
ALWAYS AND FOREVER!! !! !”



Billy Idol: The Man
This is for the man
Who is the wind beneath my wings
Billy Idol
Not just something
But Everything
I don`t mean to be repetitive
But I can never say enough
Because this is Billy Idol
The man I love so much
Billy Idol is a ray of sunshine
That penetrated the shadows of a life
That was once a black hole of sadness
Until the moment I first heard his voice
And laid eyes on him
It then became a life
That I knew would get better right then
This is the man
Who gave me direction
When I lost my way
And for that
I thank him everyday

I am a meerkat
Imagine that!
I am really quite the sophisti-kat
I run around and stick my tail in the air
I strut my stuff with flair
I'm flamboyant
I'm a star
People say that I am really cute
Oh right they are
I'm also really tiny
But I don't care
Because I know my friends are always there
We look out for each other
We're a team
Always together
Even in our dreams

The Rabbit and the Summer Rain
What if you were a desert rabbit,
Waiting for a shower.
You'd search until you found a divot
Filled by trickled rain that hour.
To recharge your life inside you'd lap it
Blissful dash with power tear it.

@ DMSI: Thanks.

Apple Tree

Oh how I have an apple tree
Big and tall, a giant with round fresh apples
Ready to fall into a waiting basket
At any moment
It will rain red and green.

I will catch as many apples as possible
All organic, without impurities
The apples will then be either
Eaten, sold, or used in cooking.
Now the rain of apples begin
First a wave of red
Parachutes down without parachutes
Some into baskets
Some into my hands
Or my stretched-out shirt as a landing

I don’t like the classic red apples
They have a tendency to rot as
They are being eaten
I advise you to not use
The red apples in making apple pies
Your apple pie will taste strange.

Then a wave of green
Green is a great color
All apples with different shades of green fall
Some take a hard ground landing
Some don’t bother letting go
Because some apples are not ready for the push
Down into baskets ready to catch them.

However, I like apples that are
Neither red or green.
Apples are apples.
You can’t count apples and oranges.
As more apples make their fall,
I am pleased by the beauty of the apple.

More like spoken word poetry since it doesn't really seem well unless I act it out.
Written for an open poetry event around Martin Luther King day. My sister is the family poet; I just write these when I get dragged along. I literally only have 5 poems, but somehow they come out so great; I can't believe I wrote them whe nI read them later.
I was thinking I would approach diversity more than freedom as the topic; and somehow it got to social Darwinism.
If someone can help edit the spider's section that is where I obviously tire out.
Please praise me if you liked it! I need the confidence booster!


TITLE:
________________

True survival is;

but Natural Selection,

verse diversity

_______________________________________________________





POEM:

What is Evolution; but the natural selection of an unlucky few,

And the survival of the lucky others.



Where alpha dogs sing "I am fitness; relate to me"

Lost in narcissism, blind to his subliminal bigotry.

Where survival is arrival. I made it, all hail me.

No, it the path that had led you to him, to her, to me.



There is a rat race; my brothers; to sanctuary;

And it is not the predators we run away from;

for they have been, ready, unforeseen; their fangs bared; ahead.

And it is not where we run to either; for sanctuary is where?

where?

where?



Do still run nevertheless, for not all predators are prepared, planned out, found plump at their station.

It does better to run; than be predictable in one location.

But don't run like the sheep we seem as; for we are all wolves under the seams.

And wolves work together; though dynamic in situations; they keep to a pack.

As a pack, we can win survive!!



Nie Nie Nie, Nay Nay Nay.

Nay, for wolves would have starved stalled at the river mate.

Having eaten everything on its way; and stalled, ate everything at the river point.

The gazelle you have damned, the rodents you have damned, the insects you have damned.

Game over wolves; you didn't just die, you have screwed the race.



For here-
The pace of the race, was the pace of...

the rodent; if left undead.

Will build a damn that doubles as the fortifications to their beds.



Assume, we-caravan, trampled, the rivers damned damns and got ahead.

Night comes with little or no light.

The anxious prance.

And the fireflies offer to start their moon dance.

Hoping to make everyone safer from their vision-less ways.

Singing now their lyrics of praise, for their light source; Luciferase.

Quickly enmity is raised, and the fireflies are braised.

By a twisted amenity by a faith; of wanting to hide within Night's anonymity.

And continuing the path away.



Then along comes a spider, dropping like rain.

With its tetrachromatic vision, its hairy mane.

It harvests and laps the sweet vitality, from those branded by its networked preemptive.

And all that remain are the still and helpless.
.
.
.
What would have happened if they had not treated their parading partners with revulsion

Would the spider had had the same audacity?

And hear comes the true reality.



There is a rat race; my brothers; to sanctuary

And it is not the predators we run away from;

for they have been, ready, unforeseen; their fangs bared; ahead.

And it is not where we run to either; for sanctuary is where?

where?

Survival lies not in destiny; but with a path filled with unjudged diversity.

I wrote this when I was twenty:

My life a bottled fly...
A wealth of information
But nobody likes a smartass