Poets Corner

Welcome to the Corner Uksteve1948
Thanks for sharing "That's my Lady"
regards...JB

 

In this sleepy part of town
The roads are starched white
The townfolks gossiping
In this sleepy part of town
I watch with a frown.

In this town where stores open late
Each meal is delayed
Or served too early
In this town where stores open late
I watch with distaste.

In a town where stories are given a new twist
What was the story is either added
Or it is lacking
In this town where stories get new twists
I curl my hands into fists.

And the strength that has led me here
will be the strength to lead me away.

 

Nice one Kyliegriffin, hope more will follow best wishes ....JB

 

Just read read this one.......THE TONGUE
"The boneless tongue,so small and weak
can crush and kill declares the Greek"
"The tongue destroys a greater hoard" the Turks asserts, "than the sword"
A Persian proverb wisely saith "A lenghty tongue-an early death";
Or sometimes takes this form instead "Don't let your tongue cut off your head"
"The tongue can speak a word whose speed" the Chinese say,"outstrips the steed;"
While Arab sages this impart, "The tongue's great storehouse is the heart."
From the Hebrew wit this maxim sprung, "Though feet should slip,never let the tongue."
The sacred writer crowns the whole,"Who keeps his tongue doth keep his soul"

Proverbs13:3 (NIV)

 

John Boy it’s good to be back!

Every time I read verses like this, I come to wonder how this people put those words into phrases that are so soothing.
Probably the answer is … PASSION.
In those times, there were no electric, or this e-phenomenon. So it was all nature, people, feelings, ideas rolled into poetry.
So now, the passion on e-phenomenon is an explosion and it might kill Poetry along…

GO POETS! post it –


POETS gone but they never go to HELL. They just hide between pages.



Blame The Boy

Growing fast
His boyhood wanes
In the curtain of his face
In the texture of his skin
His cheek used to be a pinch
Between forefinger and thumb
Everybody could shrink voices
By his boyhood charm

His first cry was sworn to angel
For sure nothing to struggle
Seeking entourage
Of his bright future
He is full of love a boy can seek
And never an inch of stick
Made him scolded sick

But society has its crime
Dark guru poisons blood
Powdery smoke invades soul
And a life, like a toy car
Lying crumpled on the wall

I want to blame the boy
But what about the tormentor
I want to blame authorities
But what about the generals
I want to blame the parents
But what about the society
Now… My boy, too many

 

Poets corner

There once was a guy name Rhoody
Who lived in Dumaguete
He like to drink Beer
Whoop, hollar and cheer,
And now he's wobbly as spaghetti

A true masterpiece
2 blackbelts

 

[Roo-dee]


Shooting out from Germany
Not as missile.
Cause war was over
Bullets fly but gods collect them
Out in the sky
Turning them into tanks
And breathing stuff
To send his message under the seas
To tell tales of corals and fishes
And goodwill and peace
Shooting out from Germany
A shooting star smashed at Villa Alegre
Star of DI, it has to be
His name’s Rhoody

 

hahaha.......Just keep then coming who knows even Rhoody might come up with one......greetings from a Cold Winters Day.

 

His first entry would have a title - "Beer O Beer"

 

hehe you tiggled me, so here you go....

I

Could freeze my @ss of in England or be grumpy at home
Could drive with a camper through Holland, pray for forgiveness in Rome
Could live in the wild in Alaska, work on a vessel abroad
prefer insulting people, on DI that’s my Board

could work my @ss off until I’m 60 with sore back, joints and knees
could be a slave of the first world, pay taxes and fees
could buy a lot in Valencia with all relatives in tow
prefer having nothing but thousands of islands to go....

could spend my life in an office, work from nine until five
could be stuffed with money three kids and a wife
could have big house and a garden ,two weeks vacation a year
prefer beer, chicks and great diving, that’s why I am here....