Connecting Singles^® Forums100% Free Online Dating

Where are you all the poets ,have i mist the link somewhere?


Write me words to fire my imagination-------------

Roses are red... finish!

Have you been away? I just came back a few months ago after begin gone for a long time.

I had a dog named Rover.











When he died, he died all over.




















Hey, it's late.... but maybe it'll inspire ya a little.

there are too few people on this site that appreciate poetry which is why I dont post any more of my poems here.
Sad but true

it seems no poets, --------------------------sad.

There are some very good ones here - actually, three people come to mind.

For me..."Jack and Jill went up the hill...."

any miny mighty mo.
that is all there is
cause there ain't no mo.

to above message--or any poet, what happened to inspiration? dont bare yur soul if u dont want, inspire others then. Emotion is all.

If no poets --no artists--we all lost-------------------.


I am out of here , no human emoition. Be happy everyone.

Someday I'll get the nerve up to post something I wrote in college....and I'm not a writer by any means, but the Prof called me at home 1 night around 10:00 p.m. and asked me if it was plagurised. Hell, I took it as a compliment.

Uh, let's see -

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To 'fetch a pail of water.'
(But Jill forgot to take the pill
And now they've got a daughter!)

Is that the one you were thinking of, Bob?

To the O.P.:

I'm not in the habit of posting my 'real' poetry in here, but have done so on rare occasions. (I'm just not feeling very poetic tonight.)

Jack and Jill went up the hill.
each had a dollar and a quarter.
Jill came down with two and a half.
Do you think they went after water.

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Uh, was by another Robert.

From yet another 'Robert' (W. Service)

When I was daft, as urchins are
And full of fairy lore
I shot an arrow at a star
And hit - the barnyard door!

I've shot at heaps of stars since then
And always it's the same;
A barnyard door has mocked me when
Uranus was my aim.

But I'll shoot starward, as before
And tho' wide my arrows fall
I think I'd rather hit a big barn door,
Than never to have aimed at all.

(This was just one of many of the poems of Robert W. Service that have provided much inspiration in times of doubt.)

I am not sure if you can list threads by poetry, but you could try.

One of my favorites here, who writes beautifully is BajanBlue.

I am not a poet
Living is the poem

I am am not a singer
I am in the song

I have got a story
that I can not write down

I'm with you
But I'll always be alone.

I may not be right,
But I don't think that I am wrong

Could someone explain to my satisfaction
How a man can strip naked and be paid for this action
Who pulled this stunt first claiming it was a dance
Men are arrested everyday for taking off their pants
And by all means correct me if I'm wrong
But balls don't belong on the other side of a thong
And I believe every man should eat a bullet
That charges five bucks to tug on his mullet
Don't get me wrong, I like sleeveless rayon
But gold chains and cutt-offs were meant to stay on
Now this is a double standard that women will trash
But male plus giration should not equal cash
But if they're still tipping and women are whores
Then grease me up Rico cause I'm dropping my drawers

I lived in a land of fairy tale
Castle hopped and circle crop
Skies I dove
Like air plane drops

I walked glacier plains
And their hues of blues
Mountain tops
From a worldly view

I planed the Prairies
Harvest abound and pretty sounds
Songs and dance
In the land of crowns

Then came this day
Home and alone
I've seen and scenes
Of what I have sown...

P.S. The top three were the loves of my life. It happens to be that I am at stanza four....

Second postscript.......©Stonesongs