Last Viewed Poems (34,328)

We sit and we type, and we stare at our screens
We all have to wonder, what this possibly means.

With our mouse we roam, through the rooms in a maze
Looking for something or someone, as we sit in a daze.

We chat with each other, we type all our woes
Small groups we do form, and gang up on our foes.

We wait for somebody, to type out our name
We want recognition, but it is always the same.

We give kisses and hugs, and sometimes flirt
In IMs we chat deeply, and reveal why we hurt.

We do form friendships - but - why we don't know
But some of these friendships, will flourish and grow.

Why is it on screen, we can be so bold
Telling our secrets, that have never been told.

Why is it we share, the thoughts in our mind
With those we can't see, as though we were blind.

The answer is simple, it is as clear as a bell.
We all have our problems, and need someone to tell.

We can't tell real people, but tell someone we must
So we turn to the 'puter, and to those we can trust.

Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains
They are Friends Without Faces, and odd little names.

It was a bright day, and the birds- they did sing,
And I was just resting when I heard the ring
Which came from the door-bell; I opened the door:
There was a pale man- just two feet off the floor.

He flashed me a bony and chilling cold smile,
And said “Hi, my friend- I will leave in a while-
I’ve just got a question- I’m sorry to say
That with all the traffic, I just lost my way…”

He put down the scythe which he’d held in one hand
And showed me a book: “I’ve got every land
That exists neatly listed- with every name
of every person alive--what a shame!”

He took a cold breath. “Could you show me the way?
This man is the one I am searching for…Say,
Would you perhaps know in which place he does live?”
I saw my own name- and my limbs, they went stiff…

“Let’s see now”, I mumbled. “Down there”, so I said-
Explaining without even just going red—
“…And then take a turn to your left and go on
for another ten miles, up the hill, past the lawn.

When you come to the crossroads, just keep to your right-
And another ten miles past the red traffic-light—
Don’t mind that, it’s broken—then over the bridge
And past the old building you’ll see on the ridge…”

He did interrupt. “Thanks a lot, I’m confused…
So maybe I’ll ask someone else. I am used
To losing my way; so I just will head on…”
So far I’ve not seen him again. Must be gone…

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Not Shallow But Deep
Inside Glowing and Breathing
Love And Life To All

i can take the pain
i can take the pain
i can take the pain of living it again

i can take my mind through the dark and tell
i can kill my soul for all the times i fell

i can take my blood
and use for my tears
leaving childhood
as the most severe

i can take my heart
and feed it to the starved
i can take my skin
and give it to your scares

but i can't make myself
Smile

monkey

and think of things that might've been

I noticed the monkey may have the key

but that is better than green.

Today I sat and read
All those words we wrote before
And I came to realize
It was a mirage
And not a door.

Where did I go wrong?
What was it I saw?
Was it just the past
I saw through the eyes
Of that teenage girl in love?

Then I read the words
You sent to me the last
And I feel a chill
When even the mirage
Splinters like a glass.

As I say goodbye
To that boy and girl that was
I wipe away a silent tear
And wish you
Happiness and love.

There's someone out there He's my ghost.

My being knows him, He was my whole life in my past life.

This life is getting shorter and I sometimes feel like I will miss Him.

But my beautiful Ghost I am here and if we need to wait another lifetime to feel what we have, I am good with that.

Until then let's make memories and live.

There's doubtless beauty in plain truth,
gold spun above the stars own roof,
serving thus, make false words uncouth
that web of conceit, lace woven guile aloof,
Truth bows not down to manipulated lies,
'tis but pen scribed, by timeless poetic laws,
embodies the stoic heart, straight limb applies,
antique written, unblemished without flaws,
oft by pomposity called naive simplicity,
yet dignifies love for mans own common good,
nurturing fond realms of strong brotherhood,
illustrates well,virtues simplistic integrity,

Truths own truth, sacred, incalculable,
free life's shackles by love unquestionable

Thinking
Remembering
Placing all the
Past
Into one moment
Present
Compressing
Love
To fit a small
Complicated
Jigsaw.
Will love explode?
Will this
Jigsaw ever be
Completed?