Poems About Reading Seeking Friendly Advice
#reading
Your Poem made me Cry
the blood from your broken heart
ink to the poem of lost love
your heartache tattooed in verses
sent dusts into my eyes
lost in time etched in memories
of a love that once embraced
your spirit, your soul, your mortality
only for him to leave
before you kissed the dawn
My tears fell for your pain
for your memories that ended
with a rose on a grave stone
and you stepping back alone
you are strong, indeed stronger
the pain like a forge to your spirit
screaming and crying to God
"Why did you...
ink to the poem of lost love
your heartache tattooed in verses
sent dusts into my eyes
lost in time etched in memories
of a love that once embraced
your spirit, your soul, your mortality
only for him to leave
before you kissed the dawn
My tears fell for your pain
for your memories that ended
with a rose on a grave stone
and you stepping back alone
you are strong, indeed stronger
the pain like a forge to your spirit
screaming and crying to God
"Why did you...
#WritingPoetry
#reading
106 reads
11 Comments
Good Endings
There's always an ache when I finish a good book.
My heart feels full, my mind satiated.
Yet, there's a longing.
A hope that the story never ends.
Sure, good things don’t last.
But can we pretend,
just for a while,
That they do?
My heart feels full, my mind satiated.
Yet, there's a longing.
A hope that the story never ends.
Sure, good things don’t last.
But can we pretend,
just for a while,
That they do?
#love
#romantic
#books
#WritingPoetry
#reading
125 reads
0 Comments
writings in books
Little girl curled up with her maroon poetry book
Small dog eared pages pinched with care
Tear stained paper from nights that haunt
The faint names barely legible because she
Gently and with the softest precision in pencil
Wrote names by the ones that were inspiring
Poetry the only way to find the words
Poetry was the only way out of her mind
Small dog eared pages pinched with care
Tear stained paper from nights that haunt
The faint names barely legible because she
Gently and with the softest precision in pencil
Wrote names by the ones that were inspiring
Poetry the only way to find the words
Poetry was the only way out of her mind
#teens
#MyInspiration
#WritingPoetry #reading
#WritingPoetry #reading
265 reads
8 Comments
a small lake
A small lake
There was a lake not far from the white-washed hamlet
in the interior of the Algarve; on hot summer days, witnessed
by my dog, which shuddered at the thought.
It was a small lake surrounded by hillsides, modest
almost unobstructed, just water, no big deal
One day when driving past the lake had disappeared
a dent in the ground full of thistles and tine of tunny
Oh, come think of it, a rowing boat that once had been
optimistically blue, but now sad dried teardrops.
The plane between the hill where the lake lived
is a centre...
There was a lake not far from the white-washed hamlet
in the interior of the Algarve; on hot summer days, witnessed
by my dog, which shuddered at the thought.
It was a small lake surrounded by hillsides, modest
almost unobstructed, just water, no big deal
One day when driving past the lake had disappeared
a dent in the ground full of thistles and tine of tunny
Oh, come think of it, a rowing boat that once had been
optimistically blue, but now sad dried teardrops.
The plane between the hill where the lake lived
is a centre...
#books
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
#passion
#reading
114 reads
1 Comment
the importance of the small things
The importance of the small things
Out of a crack at the foot of a wall, a tiny baby mouse
blinded by the brightness of this autumnal day
I picked up the new life and put it in the palm of my hand
sensing the warmth, the baby curled up and slept.
To think this tiny animal had a heart, lungs, liver and
so, just like me; living in a world too immense to
grasp other than an outline of space and time.
In less than a week, the baby mouse will be an adult
and since mice do not go for higher education, one
can assume it will not take an...
Out of a crack at the foot of a wall, a tiny baby mouse
blinded by the brightness of this autumnal day
I picked up the new life and put it in the palm of my hand
sensing the warmth, the baby curled up and slept.
To think this tiny animal had a heart, lungs, liver and
so, just like me; living in a world too immense to
grasp other than an outline of space and time.
In less than a week, the baby mouse will be an adult
and since mice do not go for higher education, one
can assume it will not take an...
#freedom
#meditation
#responsibility
#passion
#reading
147 reads
0 Comments
clouds and a moment
Clouds and a moment
When a cloud rolled over lake Michigan
cast an eerie spell of otherness over the lake
the stillness was profound when a bird
shrieked in horror.
When the cloud disappeared up yonder
a ferry crossed the lake's undulating water
reached the shore as a wet handshake
of monotony.
When a cloud rolled over lake Michigan
cast an eerie spell of otherness over the lake
the stillness was profound when a bird
shrieked in horror.
When the cloud disappeared up yonder
a ferry crossed the lake's undulating water
reached the shore as a wet handshake
of monotony.
#books
#LifeAsAWriter
#MyInspiration
#passion
#reading
222 reads
0 Comments
This is a Newsletter Poll
Do any poets out there have a real following that generates an income for them? I ask because then if I do start a newsletter this would facilitate readers to continue and give a new source of income.
I'm dubious right now. Reason being i have only a small readership to produce for on Medium. I am trying to get consistent but am flagging. I am just tired. Physically and emotionally. I guess i need a vacation from the internet as well. Its time. I've been super consistent for a couple decades, more or less. That is a long azz time!!!
Newsletters are a nice idea if you are a...
I'm dubious right now. Reason being i have only a small readership to produce for on Medium. I am trying to get consistent but am flagging. I am just tired. Physically and emotionally. I guess i need a vacation from the internet as well. Its time. I've been super consistent for a couple decades, more or less. That is a long azz time!!!
Newsletters are a nice idea if you are a...
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#reading #DeepUndergroundPoetry
#reading #DeepUndergroundPoetry
169 reads
4 Comments
Cool Swimming Pool
Tingles on my heart and skin
Wondering if I should jump in
Where I skim my toes
Checking the temperature
My Cool Swimming Pool
Filled with sharks and ink
Primed for a leap into magic
From the high dive
For a few moments to feel alive
Where I get lost for a while
Seduced by your words
And sharp teeth beneath
I take the plunge
Feeling you stalk and circle
Slipping around my legs
Pulling on my yellow bikini strings
With your shark teeth
Carful not to scar or...
Wondering if I should jump in
Where I skim my toes
Checking the temperature
My Cool Swimming Pool
Filled with sharks and ink
Primed for a leap into magic
From the high dive
For a few moments to feel alive
Where I get lost for a while
Seduced by your words
And sharp teeth beneath
I take the plunge
Feeling you stalk and circle
Slipping around my legs
Pulling on my yellow bikini strings
With your shark teeth
Carful not to scar or...
#magic
#reading
521 reads
26 Comments
a haughty nation
Haughty Nation
“They crap in our forest”, a young man yelled
the Roma people had pitched a tent near the woods
where people of this tolerant nation go hunting.
They came here the people from afar to seek work
but are usually met with contempt and mistrust.
They came in the hope of getting a share
in this nations’ largesse, but ran into racism
unbecoming pride like it was their cleverness
that brought up oil from the bottom of the sea.
Now, instead of being unassuming, they became
reactionaries giving pompous advice to less ...
“They crap in our forest”, a young man yelled
the Roma people had pitched a tent near the woods
where people of this tolerant nation go hunting.
They came here the people from afar to seek work
but are usually met with contempt and mistrust.
They came in the hope of getting a share
in this nations’ largesse, but ran into racism
unbecoming pride like it was their cleverness
that brought up oil from the bottom of the sea.
Now, instead of being unassuming, they became
reactionaries giving pompous advice to less ...
#travel
#art
#meditation
#passion
#reading
155 reads
0 Comments
the tripping
Tour 1
A man with blue-rinsed hair was the tour’s leader
we stopped outside Edith Piaf’s former home where she was born
The house is still the dwellings steps into the house
were well-trod.
Our leader held up a picture of the lady, a photo I had seen
on YouTube, he told us a fairy tale about her goodness
for a moment, I thought he was talking about a saint.
We retired to a café where he sang, “La vie en rose” and forever
Destroyed the most beautiful of songs.
Tour 2
Fighting my way through the metro and jostling with rude commuters ...
A man with blue-rinsed hair was the tour’s leader
we stopped outside Edith Piaf’s former home where she was born
The house is still the dwellings steps into the house
were well-trod.
Our leader held up a picture of the lady, a photo I had seen
on YouTube, he told us a fairy tale about her goodness
for a moment, I thought he was talking about a saint.
We retired to a café where he sang, “La vie en rose” and forever
Destroyed the most beautiful of songs.
Tour 2
Fighting my way through the metro and jostling with rude commuters ...
#freedom
#art
#reading
185 reads
0 Comments
unwritten page
Unwritten page
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
A blank page on the word processor I ought to leave it this way
just look at it and dream what I could have written.
If I delete the words written, it will be a blank page again.
No history on a crumpled-up sheet of paper in a wastebasket.
For now, it is too late, but I might erase the page written
if I so choose.
All poems are if written with passion, great poems
if not by the readers but by the poet, who boarded the wrong bus
as my wife did in Johannesburg many years ago
great was her consternation when stopping an...
#music
#meditation
#passion
#reading
#guitars
391 reads
0 Comments
A Good Book
No matter how hard I try
there’s always nights of
which can never be said
is slept without having
raised from a most
comfortable bed
searching for something
to help me sleep
when mother said
“it’s all in your head!”
so I tried just that
even went to
the library
and read
and read
cus a good book will do that
help me relax
so there every day
I’d find a corner and sat
going through
stories of castles and queens
of lost children and giants
even scary dreams
now I...
there’s always nights of
which can never be said
is slept without having
raised from a most
comfortable bed
searching for something
to help me sleep
when mother said
“it’s all in your head!”
so I tried just that
even went to
the library
and read
and read
cus a good book will do that
help me relax
so there every day
I’d find a corner and sat
going through
stories of castles and queens
of lost children and giants
even scary dreams
now I...
#happiness
#love
#motivational
#inspirational
#reading
278 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Poems About Reading Seeking Friendly Advice