Last Commented About CS Poems (263)

A string of pearls snatched off a table,
ripped appart and scattered over an old floor,
tears fall and bruises form over the hearts of many.

A Poet comes here and picks up a pearl,
She writes with it and it becomes a rose.
A Poet comes here and picks up a pearl,
He writes with it and it becomes a kiss.

And soon all the pearls of hurt from all over the world
are slowly changed into roses and kisses, hugs and love.

The poets are a gentle race who change the world by loving it.

Am sending Xmas Hugs to each of the most precious poets in this place.
every one of you have taken one of my pearls and changed it for me over this year, and Michael took a silver sting and thread my pearls together again.

To each and every valued member of Poetry corner,
Life is sweeter and bearable because of you,
Sharing and commenting our hearts and joy,
smiling and crying at every turn,

somedays are nice,
and others are blue,
Let our expressions fly,
with passion and dread never dies.

We have our differences,
We even had dreams and seasons,
Nothin is always the same,
Only our memories and names.

This is for each and every poet,
from land near and mystic far,
whether single or co-ed,
Within this familiar poetry bar.

Time is short and limited,
being among the most talented,
Foggy skies lies over my horizon,
You are the stars of Orion.

Thank you for being there,
No matter when,how or where,
One day I shall return here,
To where my heart hold dear.

I've joined a dedicated site last month,called gotpoetry.com,and entered a competition called a Slam.

It's a five round and ends 26-11-13,
And its my first time. . . as beginner luck would have it. . . . Im in the final and would like to invite my fellow poets to join me in this last round.

its not national,nor a big competition,just a simple one but special coz its my first, and i reached there by the votes of fellow peers and i did not invite earlier coz i never thought I'll last to the end. . .

This is my home, where my first born is posted and where i also give birth to my creative sights and colours.
Join in my hour of excitement,weather i failed or win this insignificant slam,it does not matter,what matters is SHARING the moment with you.

will you come and take a peek?
and i think non -members can also vote. . . that's up to you, this is the link from Round One coz you should see where it started and how close i was. . .





It means a lot, that you come,not for your votes but your support and sharing
this feeling, like am anxious first time father. . .

there is many more slams i am joining,
but now i just want to share this with you.
Thank you, one and all

I really am a real guy.I really do exist.I messaged you with no response,yet I continue to persist.By not responding to the guys who have read your profile views,you make this out to be a game where you and us will lose. A game in which I cannot win but still will always try.What is so hard about messaging back to simply just say hi? These free dating websites are only just a game, for many different people to play, who all are quite the same.They have many issues that might all be solved,but the ones who can do it just won`t get involved. We all have been stiffed. We`ve been cribbled and burned, some people have even been sued. For most of them they still have`nt learned it was caused by their own attitude. I decided why not? I`ll just take a chance. After all, this whole website is free. But what everyone knows is the way that it goes there`s simply no guarantee. When responses are made, words go in a box which is only a square of containment. What the words then reveal is just not really real,only just cheap entertainment. Women`s profiles indeed, might list just what they need in hopes that some guy will just take`em. And once they`re acquainted, should the acquaintment get tainted, remember that`s just how they make`em.

"One, two, Devil 's comin' for you.

Three, four, you'd better pray your Lord.

Five, six, confesses your sins.

Seven, eight, never doubt your faith.

Nine, ten... better pray again."

If I were a on an isle
Id bring a croc from the nile
One who showed all sixty nine teeth when it smiled
Then Id bring a ton of veggies and beans
By the boatloads you see
And a woman named Alice to cook them for me
You see gizmos and gadgets may be useless to me
Unless I was building a house then Id have all that I need
But two people on this island alone for ten years
I wonder after five would I wish Mr Wilson was here
Would she be my lover, my friend, or a even my foe
Would she be one of three things I would send back on a boat
But instead of saying " One of these days, POW ! right in the kisser !"
I would feed her to Nelly my croc, so surely Id miss her
My belly too would be fat but not from eating tree bark and all that
Stuff that you learn from that Bear Grylls Survivor cat
But after ten years I would leave this island in style
With luggage and shoes I made from my croc of the nile

With only Me ,Myself, and I ,
Stranded on a deserted isle,
Nobody for miles and miles,
I am sure Me is all I'd need,
To keep Myself company,
We'd build a hut for only us,
Myself the only one I trust,
Meals I'd cook for only Me,
See I'd do fine with just us three,
Id gather roots ,fruits,nuts, and berries ,
That only Me myself and I'd be sharing,
One little fire and We'd be warm,
Telling each other stories till early morn,
Whiling away the hours time would fly,
Id spend ten years with Me, Myself, and I.

I would like to write a person’s name
But to do that would be so unfair
For more than one are all the same
And to hurt someone I could not bear

One might write about going home
While another is quick to yell ‘reserve’
Now as I let my mind freely roam
I think of more this honour deserve

So sadly I say no name I can give
For daily my list is growing
So with hat in hand I beg forgive
And my gratitude I’ll be showing

Why is it when a poem you craft
And words so carefully chosen
The thing you write is a part of you
Whether real or imagined

There are times when words on paper flow
Like a river’s bursting it’s banks
You look and ponder, not a word you change
Yet other times the birth’s so traumatic

You labour and sweat, words you change
Then finally the light turns green
Next it feels like a load is gone
Til the pen starts writing again

So what, I ask, gives you the right
To criticize my writing
Telling me what words to use
They want to change the meaning

Why is it that each line you begin
A capital is most confusing
I hate to tell you this my ‘friend’
Many famous poets do it

Just because you’re stuck in a rut
You think you know all the answers
So many different ways to write
Maybe some not even invented

So I will be ever so polite
About you and your criticism
May the Bird of Paradise sit on your shoulders
And peck your ears to pieces

May he fertilise your shoulder blades
And set up a din most raucous
May all your demons come at night
And haunt your sleeping moments

There was grace filling the air
There was justice and love kissing their hearts
There was a sky with no thunders
There was passion and courage
There was darkness with no tears...

There is a stone that cuts and builds
There is a river that twists and unites
There is a flower that shines for its scent
There is a lamb that purify
There is honesty and hope
There is a simple desire of life

There will be a future
What the future will be?
...it's time for a smile