Poetry
From Poetry
'Wikia Poetry'
- Call For Participants: We are currently looking for participants. Come and discuss how this project should run. Whoever you are, whatever your level of writing experience, your input is valued. And we hope you will find this a rewarding experience.
Contents |
[edit] News
- New News:American Mohawk is now available 100% free as a google search inside the book - at http://www.americanmohawk.com - Further updates to this site will take time, but will eventually be implemented. Please make use of it.
- New News:Harmonies From Within The Maze Chapter 4 of American Mohawk is complete. And it will take some time to read! So start today! --ChrisBradley 08:05, 14 November 2006 (UTC)
- New News: Just completed indexing Chapter 2 Black Operations and Chapter 3 The Tail of The Dragon of American Mohawk. 4 More chapters to go! --ChrisBradley 02:06, 14 November 2006 (UTC)
- New News: I just indexed American Mohawk Chapter 1 The World Before Latin. Feel free to read and comment. More to come! --ChrisBradley 21:16, 12 November 2006 (UTC)
- New News: We now have a mascot Icon stolen from the Pen dept. of Wikipedia. Don't worry, it was GFDL. So if you want to include it on your pages, go for it! Talk to you soon!
- New News: From today forward we will be following the rules of Constructive criticism as outlined in the Poetry:FAQ.
- --ChrisBradley 12:45, 10 November 2006 (UTC)
- New News: Join The CircleGuild! Add the [[Category:CircleGuild]] tag to your User Page and you will be easily grouped into membership of the Circle, so that we can all find each other with a couple of clicks.
[edit] Circle
From Poetry
Please place a link to your incoming poems in Inflow.
- Welcome to the Circle. This is where we should gather and discuss poems that have been uploaded to poetry.wikia.com and consider writing technique and style and how to progress our careers as writers. Criticism should be constructive - not destructive.
- Treat others as you would expect to be treated yourself. If being polite isn't what you are up for, this might not be the place for your input. That doesn't necessarily mean you need to pull punches, but it does mean that you have to have a modicum of respect for your fellow writers and plan to live peacibly with them here.
- Anyone interested in debating the use of the Circle the floor is yours.
- We already have several poems up for discussion, and value your input!
[edit] ADD A POEM!
CATEGORIES
NEW POEMS: My Lusmagh IRISH DANCE HALLS
[edit] Dancing Over The Fury
- (111 Poems) by ChrisBradley with Edits by Schiste
- The poems in this index have been wikified with links to wikipedia. So, if you want to - You can point and click your way into oblivion!
Alpha Zulu 1500 (110 Poems) by ChrisBradley
[edit] My Lusmagh (Where Heaven Blooms on Earth)
by Anthony Sullivan
- Where heaven blooms on earth
- And healing herbs abound
- All senses soar to dwell upon
- The Shannon's softer sound
- As it's melody in the mind restores
- A calm truth always brings
- While once more the world turns true
- And dreams regain their wings
- Where heaven blooms on earth
- And winter rivers rise
- Songbirds sing through nightfall
- Soul-soothing lullabies
- That ease the heart of suffering
- As rapture wraps the sky
- In colours wild and blazing
- All healing to the eye
- Where heaven blooms on earth
- And seraph spirits shield
- The soil's most solemn secrets
- In each Elaysian field
- Where grows the green of legend
- And gentle creatures roam
- In a land of natural beauty
- My Lusmagh, a paradise..., my home.
[edit] From Painkiller Supreme
All you poets, bright and smart,
Please continue this work of art:
Behind the house beside the tree
I saw a light, what could it be?
-
The light was bright, and flickering,
It had a pale hue and did bring
Me to see it, and while I observed,
The light, it grew, to size absurd.
It was a fire; my shed was burning,
And fires spread, as I was learning.
Nearby, there were several birds
Waiting for a meal; they were vultures.
(Added by the user: Painkiller Supreme)
My souls, I thought, in flesh and blood
The beings of which I was comprised
The part of me that shrunk away
From that horrid sight of smoke and blaze
But too, that part that stood amazed
At that bright power that rose to heaven
At that heat and light and sign
Of nature's power and that of man.
I didn't start the blaze that day
And yet the birds, that night, that fire
Reminded me of who I am
Reminded me of heat and power
Of what I need, what I desire,
And more, what I don't know I know
Of life and of this very hour.
(Added by poetprof from Cincinnati)
[edit] The Sleeping Beauty and The Sorry Prince
•
Tomas O Carthaigh •
•
Arise from the eternal dream
Allbeit one of bliss
And walk the world of today
Said the prince with a kiss
The fair maiden with beary eyes
Slowly and mumbling awoke
"A prince whose mine and beautiful!"
Were the first words she spoke.
"I have been asleep", she said
"For over eight hundred years,
And I am both hungry and thirsty"
Said she through grateful tears.
The prince brought her for breakfast
And great was her surprise
The world she saw she did not recognise
That opened before her eyes.
Cars and planes and lorries
She found herself sort of choke
A headache from the noise
And caughing with the smoke.
Nowhere could she find comfort
Wherever she did look or where peace she did seek
So she gave the price a hard kick in the privates
For kissing her and not letting her sleep.
[edit] I. The philosophical coffee machine
•
--Wikipoet 11:51, 26 Oct 2005 (UTC) •
•
The life is like coffee grains in the grinder:
one is in front, one is after and another one a little bit after,
all, however, go to the same future.
Often they move or they push themselves,
the large one and the small one,
gathering all at the entry.
And so living,
mixed by the hand of the fate,
we spin when a button release,
if we are weak or if we are strong,
president or tramp,
without understanding it,
we go down and sink,
to drop in the cup of the death.
