Tall Babes » Poetry

Shades of Blue Longer extended Version. Please read and critique?

admin — Thu, 16 Dec 2010 19:13:09 +0000

§ Baby’s Blues § asked:

Two soft blue eyes stare at the skies
She stands two feet tall in denims
Her blonde locks falling in her eyes
Innocence untouched by venom

Sweet little girl, her smiles so shy
World; her oyster to explore in
Looking puzzled, simply asks “why?”
You simply don’t … where to begin

“Why did my daddy have to die?”
You cannot find the words, they’re spent
The calmness on your face belies
The thoughts the visions you resent

Wrapped in your arms she softly cries
The empty living room awaits
You’ll look at photos, fantasize
Your feelings reconciliate

Tomorrow comes the numbness fades
Sun shines again upon her face
Blues come in many different shades
Within a scar, will ne’er erase
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memories of a man dressed in blue
Who used to tuck her in at night,
The memories sharp but very few
Now fast asleep a peaceful sight

Upon her dresser in wooden frame
A handsome man in uniform
Her daddy’s picture with his name
And next to it a unicorn

Life carries on for little girls
The pain of loss gets pushed aside
A short chic cut replaces curls
As girl meets boy and worlds collide

A house sits in a field of green
An older woman sits in the swing
Recalling life now scene for scene
Some joyful, some with bitter sting

A man approaches, takes her hand
A car drives up the dusty lane
He helps her they together stand
She leans on him and holds a cane

Striking couple with, **** in arms
With eyes so blue yet vaguely green
He has his grandpa’s name and charms
I end this poem with this scene

What do you think of my poems?

admin — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 11:30:12 +0000

LuvULuLu asked:

Okay now before you read this do keep in mind im here asking because i know that my poems are not up to standard i want you to crisize me nicely you dont have to be a **** about it. And i am only 17 so if i wright about “teenage fluff” its cuz well i am still a teenager. Thanks

ONE LAST DAY
one last day
say goodbye
make it count
don’t even cry
this is your fault
you didn’t try
you screwed up
its time to fly
don’t worry you’ll be back
someday far away
your leaving soon
so make today the day
put on a smile
not a frown
don’t let them know
you’ve let them down
later on you can cry
but for now stand tall
pretend it doesn’t hurt
not at all

EVEN THOUGH
Dont say I love you
Even though I do
Don’t lean in close to feel you against me
Even though I want to
Don’t put my hand in yours
Even though they are the perfect size
Don’t look deep into your gorgeous eyes
Even though they tell no lies
Don’t kiss your lips
Even though they move the perfect way
Don’t even think about being with you
Because then my heart is the one that will have to pay

MAKE UP YOUR MIND
It really is confusing,
the way you talk to me.
Sometimes I think you understand,
almost like its ment to be.
But then you change your mind.
You saysay she’s your one and only.
Its her you love,
and Im left lonly.

YOU SAID
Yesterday, in my car
you told me that you loved me more.
But you lied
you chose that *****.

IM DONE
Im done trying to writeout the words to discribe what you mean to me.
Im tierd of trying to show you how much i care about you.
Im sick of trying to tell you that we’re perfect for eachother.
Im finished giving you my all.
Im not going to drop any more hints.
I am going to drop this dream of us.
Im done.

SHE LOVES HIM
She is the girl you sit by in class.
You dont know her name and you dont ask.
She’s nothing special but you’ll find
there is only one thing on her mind.
Its her best friend that has her heart
but she has to play it smart.
She tells him about it all.
When somethings wrong he’s the first she calls.
But one secret she can not tell
Its about how hard she fell.
She knows he doesn’t feel that way
but she lives ith it every day.
Because she can’t let him go
she pretends she doesnt love him so.

MY SPECIAL GIFT
Come take a look baby,
I’ve got something special for you.
Ibought us a gun
and bullets too.
There is one for you,
and another for me.
Take a look ****
at how beautiful it’ll be.
We can die together,
in our own time.
Dont worry honey,
its going to be fine.
So stand with me darlin
and lets tell them all,
that we love eachother
and how together we’ll fall.
When this is all over
no one will be able to get to us.
So dont freak out
dont make a fus.
So we’re ready now
all thats left to see
whos heart will stop beating first
will it be you or me?

YOUR PRETTY MASK
Im not wierd
I just have a different idea or what normal is
Just because I dont act like you
doesnt make me odd
You cover us who you are
and you put on an act
But I dont care anymore
what you think of me
Because I dont have to pretend
I get to act like me
Your friends dont really like you
but they love your pretty mask
I can be myself
and my friends are still my friends
They love me or who I am
Mot what I think they want me to be
So I feel really sorry
for all of you that think your better than me
Because my friends are true
and yours are fake as can be.
oh and what one(s) do you like best?
oh and what one(s) do you like best?

What do you think of my poems?

admin — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 19:46:06 +0000

LuvULuLu asked:

YOU SAID
Yesterday, in my car
you told me that you loved me more.
But you lied
you chose that *****.

Read my poem. do you like it?

admin — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 10:25:22 +0000

Alex Musetta. asked:

Just curious.

Helpless.

If I lose you,
If I lose myself along the way as well,
If I lose my strength and courage and faith,
I swear on this that I will never be helpless.

I swear on my child’s face and on my pen,
On the gentle ink curve of music notes,
On the schoolgirl’s silly smile brought forth by the love note she hugs close.

Sometimes I wonder why I prolong the inevitable,
Sometimes the pain in waiting is unbearable,
Because I know,
If it isn’t today, it’s tomorrow.
What’s another two months?

But you will never need to hold me,
Save me,
Caress me back to sleep like a newborn ****.
You will never have to help me walk,
Or help me bathe,
Or carry trays to and from my bedroom,
Our bedroom,
Loaded with food I will not eat.

If my dignity dies before I do,
I swear on this that I will remain tall,
Even bedridden.
Even dying.
Even now.
I swear that I will never need you,
I will never take away your life.

I will walk until my legs give out,
I will teach until my knowledge evaporates,
I will fight until my hands won’t form a fist,
I will dance until I cannot hear the music,
I will sing until my lungs don’t draw breath.

And I will love until I can’t remember,
And I will be strong,
Brave,
Good.

And I will not accept a helping hand,
Not even Death’s herself.
Because though she will try to tug me from your embrace,
I will hold on.
And I will not be helpless.

How about a, from the mouth of babes, poem?

admin — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 19:06:39 +0000

BC’n ya asked:

He yanked open
The refrigerator door.

Standing tall on his little feet,
Looking about for something to eat.

He said, Mom.
She said, Yes.
He said, I know how to spell A-1.
She said, How?
He said, A-1.
She said, You’re such a smart big boy.

And with that
He closed the door
Roamed about
Looking for more.

He found the camera
And said, Mom
She said, Yes
He said, Where’s the cheese button?

Thoughts on this piece? It’s a rough draft of a prosaic story that came to my mind upon awakening this morning?

admin — Mon, 24 May 2010 07:56:42 +0000

Faust asked:

What cruel fate, madness!
Twining seductively about the human soul,
sinister to the ears, so hark!
A story told, of long, long ago,
of two brothers, estranged.

Emperors of men, husbands of wives,
fathers of children, priests of wisdom, passed.
Two ***** born unto the world,
and upon their brows, marks,
one of serenity, and the other – of downfall.

Puzzled were the sages, the magi and wise men.
Who were these babes, that they bore the mark of heavenly make?
One, with the air of wisdom, of pride,
the other – fallen from some future grace,
to live shamed, disgraced.

And so the seers spoke as one:
“When Utopia is grasped,
tragedy befalls those in search
of further want.”

As one, these brothers aged,
through the times as a single soul,
wise beyond their years.
One was named Arubus,
the other, Hectarin.

The professors wondered aloud,
“Who are these boys,
that they speak prophecy?
Do they not know Hell,
and the treachery therein?

And the boys knew not of Hell,
but of war and teachings,
chess and strategy,
compassion and pleasure,
poetry and philosophy.

Of Arubus, he was fair!
His youth blossomed,
as he ascended to that of a man,
and he grew tall, and was handsome.
The ladies swooned, and the strength of Hercules rested in his palms.

Oft would be the time,
when he would venture out from his father’s kingdom,
and topple the trees of the valley,
and bore them back upon his golden shoulders,
and the people would ring out with rejoicing, praising him -

a god amongst men.
Intellect rested humbly upon his bronze brow,
and his regality was borne with grace,
so that no wretch could look on him,
and resent.

Arubus was praised, he was the first to be born
from his mother’s birth throes – the first expelled from the womb,
but oft the people would whisper, that Hectarin – in a sudden seizure
of immense jealosy – seized upon his brother’s ankle,
and followed on his shadow, not to be outdone.

And so of Hectarin, the land would wonder,
“Who is this man, that he burst forth
on his brother’s will for life?
Is he a devil, perhaps? He is indeed quick of wit,
and sly with his cloven tongue.”

For Hectarin loved with all his heart
the people in his father’s keep,
yet the people loved Hectarin not,
but rather held him in their deepest respects, warily.
And Hectarin knew of this, and grew resentful of Arubus.

And his soul grew darkened,
and the light of his face, once golden as the gates of Olympus,
paled, and in his eyes shone a fey light.
Yet his love for his father’s hand remained unabated,
and fixated he remained, desperate for a favorable hand.
_________________________________

Thoughts?
Consider this final stanza the last installment for this part of the story:

No such hand came, and Hectarin despaired,
for he was still – though aged to that of a fine man -
in need of some praise from the seed which gave him breath.
And with a cry he proclaimed,
“Who is loving you, that you give me none in return?”

poem-colors?

admin — Fri, 21 May 2010 19:14:12 +0000

Antony C asked:

Colors are like people
There’s more than meets the eye
No two are quite the same
It’s own rhythm each lives by

Red a blazing fire
Or Juicy apples in July
Mobs on overcast days
A newborn babe’s first cry

Orange a spark of hope
A simple act of gratitude
The fresh scent of peeled fruit
Fish with a gleeful attitude

Yellow is the sun’s energy
The happiness of two friend
Warmth a smile always brings
Daffodils in summer winds

Green is life born anew
A tree so proud and tall
A young deer grazing peacefully
Soft rain finishing it’s fall

Blue is a gurgling stream
Birds soaring in a cloudless sky
The peace endless oceans bring
A tear that will not dry

Purple an ultraviolet light
Twinkling stars where bats fly
A bruise from a clumsy stumble
Violets swaying under a gorgeous sky

Our differences may seem grand
Yet we’re all important in life’s game
For what would a rainbow be
If each color were the same?

help interpret these poems?

admin — Thu, 13 May 2010 10:44:55 +0000

somebody on earth asked:

can someone like help me interpret these poems?

In Hardwood Groves

The same leaves over and over again!
They fall from giving shade above
To make one texture of faded brown
And fit the earth like a leather glove.

Before the leaves can mount again
To fill the trees with another shade,
They must go down past things coming up.
They must go down into the dark decayed.

They must be pierced by flowers and put
Beneath the feet of dancing flowers.
However it is in some other world
I know that this is way in ours.

Revelation

We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated hear
Till someone really find us out.

‘Tis pity if the case require
(Or so we say) that in the end
We speak the literal to inspire
The understanding of a friend.

But so with all, from ***** that play
At hid-and-seek to God afar,
So all who hide too well away
Must speak and tell us where they are.

Stars

How countlessly they congregate
O’er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!–

As if with keeness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,–

And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those starts like some snow-white
Minerva’s snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.

A Peck of Gold

Dust always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.

All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like god in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.

Such was life in the Golden Gate:
Gold dusted all we drank and ate,
And I was one of the children told,
‘We all must eat our peck of gold.’

Riders

The surest thing there is is we are riders,
And though none too successful at it, guiders,
Through everything presented, land and tide
And now the very air, of what we ride.

What is this talked-of mystery of birth
But being mounted ******** on the earth?
We can just see the infant up astride,
His small fist buried in the bushy hide.

There is our wildest mount–a headless horse.
But though it runs unbridled off its course,
And all our blandishments would seem defied,
We have ideas yet that we haven’t tried.

Opinions please?

admin — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 21:42:33 +0000

Dee S asked:

Mountains
I dream of the mountains
And with my mind’s eye I see
The sky etched in snow.
It falls so gently, so softly
And strikes the hills with a sigh
Like a newborn babe’s.
The trees stand tall and proud
Throwing faint shadows upon
The silk-like ice which flows across the land.
Animals creep in and out
Of the wooded areas like shy, careful ghosts
And the mountain sleeps until the spring.

“My Father Danced” This poem is a rewrite from 2007, comments please?

admin — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 18:51:11 +0000

jenny asked:

Thanks to Neon, I feel it is quite improved, and now says what I wanted it to say.

My Father Danced

In nineteen and thirteen
my Father met my Mother
at a dance hall called
“Happy Jack’s”
My Father danced me
in his arms when I was a babe,
I learned to walk
he danced me on top his feet,
just as he did my sisters,three
before he danced with me,
When I grew tall he danced me ’round
many ball room floors,
Once I over heard a woman say,
“look at that short sugar daddy,
with that tall young pretty girl!”
we laughed and spun around.
My Father danced me as a bride
to “I’ll See You In My Dreams”
My Father danced my daughter
in his arms and on top his feet.
And then at eighty two,
his head upon death’s pillow,
I whispered, “Do you know that I love you”
he answered, “Yes I know,
you told me on the dance floor
a long, long time ago”