Here is a list of Most Commented Quatrain Poems written by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Garden Just For You
I tilled the soil in ground so bare
Then planted seeds in a garden square
A place of wonder, a mountain to hold
Both pansies and posies in colors so bold
With rake in hand I spread with care
With roses galore, with beauty to share
A life so wonderful, these friends I behold
Then I give them love, cause friendship is gold
Deep here in thought, songs play in the air
then the butterflies linger alone or in pairs
Sometimes it grows way out of control
But as each year passes more beauty unfolds
I watch them wake up and take time to prepare
I watch them grow tall with Spring in the air
A garden forgotten as weeds take hold
It unleashes it’s fury, and tales are told
Knee deep in soil, I planted these seeds
I watered my garden and pulled out it’s weeds
With fragrance aplenty and flowers to view
I planted this garden, just for you.
Then planted seeds in a garden square
A place of wonder, a mountain to hold
Both pansies and posies in colors so bold
With rake in hand I spread with care
With roses galore, with beauty to share
A life so wonderful, these friends I behold
Then I give them love, cause friendship is gold
Deep here in thought, songs play in the air
then the butterflies linger alone or in pairs
Sometimes it grows way out of control
But as each year passes more beauty unfolds
I watch them wake up and take time to prepare
I watch them grow tall with Spring in the air
A garden forgotten as weeds take hold
It unleashes it’s fury, and tales are told
Knee deep in soil, I planted these seeds
I watered my garden and pulled out it’s weeds
With fragrance aplenty and flowers to view
I planted this garden, just for you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
I wrote this for my mother because she is in wheelchair and loves the garden, so every year I go out and plant her a small garden in the patio outside our front door, so she can sit in her chair and enjoy the perfume from the flowers.
dope DIDN'T kill ME but BEING a DOPE almost DID
DOPE DIDN’T KILL ME BUT BEING A DOPE WAS DOPEY
I smoked cheap cigars and played old guitars~
I even drove thirty-five year old cars~
I had reminders of dope dealing from all of my scars~
But my proclivity, I proclaimed, was for drinking at seedy bars~
The seedier the better it was for me in there
Because then I was in my element with nothing to fear
Walk down the street being me and you were taking a chance
I was shot at, choked, bludgeoned but no one ever used a lance
Old enemies never forgot, they simply waited by and by
Some hoped I had died and the others just prayed that I’d die
These people used to stand in neighborhoods they believed I would frequent
But s**t, I’ve been escaping enemies since I was a juvenile delinquent
I owed so many people money that it’s hard to recall
I just knew I must have owed something to all
Due to dollars…..dope…… dirty deals and the like
The only one wasn’t searching for me was busy with his finger in a dike
So I was diligent in my efforts to evade debts unpaid
The only thing I didn’t need a loan for was to get laid
Then one day I ran into Big Billy and Dangerous Dave
And I know how close I came to writing this missive from my grave
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
I smoked cheap cigars and played old guitars~
I even drove thirty-five year old cars~
I had reminders of dope dealing from all of my scars~
But my proclivity, I proclaimed, was for drinking at seedy bars~
The seedier the better it was for me in there
Because then I was in my element with nothing to fear
Walk down the street being me and you were taking a chance
I was shot at, choked, bludgeoned but no one ever used a lance
Old enemies never forgot, they simply waited by and by
Some hoped I had died and the others just prayed that I’d die
These people used to stand in neighborhoods they believed I would frequent
But s**t, I’ve been escaping enemies since I was a juvenile delinquent
I owed so many people money that it’s hard to recall
I just knew I must have owed something to all
Due to dollars…..dope…… dirty deals and the like
The only one wasn’t searching for me was busy with his finger in a dike
So I was diligent in my efforts to evade debts unpaid
The only thing I didn’t need a loan for was to get laid
Then one day I ran into Big Billy and Dangerous Dave
And I know how close I came to writing this missive from my grave
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
THIS IS THE REASON I CANNOT RETURN TO MY BELOVED NEW YORK CITY
Gone Fishing Part 1
A young man once asked a fisherman can you teach me how to fish?
Said the man, "Why, yes I can, if that is what you wish."
He set the boy to digging, after every storm
and told him "Come back and see me, when you've found the perfect worm.
After weeks of shoveling, and blisters on his hand
he still had not found one cause he didn't understand.
He wasn't searching for a worm, or some other piscine dish, but learning to be patient; you need that when you fish.
He came back to the jetty with a full bait pail,
and set it down at the mans feet as he began to wail.
The fisher glanced down at his feet and said "I guess this will do. Get yourself a rod from the shed, and bring one for me too."
The man waited patiently to see the ones he chose and asked him quite intensely, "What made you pick out those?"
The young man answered testily, "I want to catch big fish, so I got the largest ones I found, to help me with my wish."
"It's not about the size of pole, or quantity of bait,
it's about your patience and how long you sit and wait.
You see son, fishings much like dating, it can be done all wrong. Sometimes you just have to wait before the right one comes along.
Unless you have a great big boat from which you can go trolling, just drop your line into the brine, and continue with your lolling.
That's the end of the lesson, at least until much later. Come back and see me sometime, when you're a better sit-and-waiter."
For weeks the young man searched about for the perfect bait, thinking the whole entire time "I REFUSE to wait!"
Grubs and worms were gathered in, and anything else he found. In his over-frenzied search he turned a lot of ground.
He dove into reading about every kind of fishing
And practised with a rod and reel, and kept a fly a-swishing
One day he finished learning and stood up from his rock, to go looking for the fisherman out on his favorite dock.
Sure enough there he was with his familiar pole
the boy went stalking out to usurp his teaching role
As he walked up to the man he started to rehearse, everything he had read chapter, page and verse.
As he went on about the fishes and their favourite diet, the fisherman just sat and fished and wished that he'd be quiet.
When the boy was finally done and he had ceased to speak, the fisher turned himself around and gave his nose a tweak.
"So you think you've learned everything about worms and fish and bugs?
Pull up a stool and have a try."
The boy complies and shrugs.
Said the man, "Why, yes I can, if that is what you wish."
He set the boy to digging, after every storm
and told him "Come back and see me, when you've found the perfect worm.
After weeks of shoveling, and blisters on his hand
he still had not found one cause he didn't understand.
He wasn't searching for a worm, or some other piscine dish, but learning to be patient; you need that when you fish.
He came back to the jetty with a full bait pail,
and set it down at the mans feet as he began to wail.
The fisher glanced down at his feet and said "I guess this will do. Get yourself a rod from the shed, and bring one for me too."
The man waited patiently to see the ones he chose and asked him quite intensely, "What made you pick out those?"
The young man answered testily, "I want to catch big fish, so I got the largest ones I found, to help me with my wish."
"It's not about the size of pole, or quantity of bait,
it's about your patience and how long you sit and wait.
You see son, fishings much like dating, it can be done all wrong. Sometimes you just have to wait before the right one comes along.
Unless you have a great big boat from which you can go trolling, just drop your line into the brine, and continue with your lolling.
That's the end of the lesson, at least until much later. Come back and see me sometime, when you're a better sit-and-waiter."
For weeks the young man searched about for the perfect bait, thinking the whole entire time "I REFUSE to wait!"
Grubs and worms were gathered in, and anything else he found. In his over-frenzied search he turned a lot of ground.
He dove into reading about every kind of fishing
And practised with a rod and reel, and kept a fly a-swishing
One day he finished learning and stood up from his rock, to go looking for the fisherman out on his favorite dock.
Sure enough there he was with his familiar pole
the boy went stalking out to usurp his teaching role
As he walked up to the man he started to rehearse, everything he had read chapter, page and verse.
As he went on about the fishes and their favourite diet, the fisherman just sat and fished and wished that he'd be quiet.
When the boy was finally done and he had ceased to speak, the fisher turned himself around and gave his nose a tweak.
"So you think you've learned everything about worms and fish and bugs?
Pull up a stool and have a try."
The boy complies and shrugs.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
I wrote this to remind myself that sometimes a little patience is required before you find what you are looking for. :)Gone Fishing Part 2
He pulled out every trick he had learned from what others had been writing,
but no matter what he tried, the fish just were not biting.
He tried grubs and snails and rare Brazilian skinks; maggots,
salmon eggs, and every bait that stinks.
He finally shook his head and spoke, "That's everything I had
and not a nibble did I get, what say you, grandad?
The fisher looked at him and winked, said "You need to learn some more. Just remember there's a fine line between a fisherman, and an idiot on the shore. I told you once, now this is twice: come back and see me later. And next time don't bring along your voice, you little master baiter."
Third times the charm he thought, as he showed up on the dock
and sat down to wait the fisherman, on his favorite rock.
Two hours passed, and still he hadn't shown
the boy just sat and waited there, on the jetty all alone.
A passerby just shook his and said "Old Jed is gone. Reeled in by the greatest Fisher, been a week since he passed on.
He told me if I saw you, did my old pal Jed,
that he left you all the fishing gear that there was in his shed."
While the boy was trying cope with the fisher being dead,
his unheeding footsteps took him over to the shed.
His hands sought out a bamboo pole and a bobber made of cork,
and baited a worm upon the hook before his mind could work.
His sensibilities came to him with a little splash,
of sinker hitting water and the leaders flash.
He sat there contemplating Jed until the dawning light.
And as he sat there silently, the fish began to bite.
A lesson learned too late is still a lesson learned,
for Jed had taught the boy exactly that for which he yearned.
The fisherman is gone, no more for worldly strife,
but where he used to sit and fish, there's a new one, such is life.
but no matter what he tried, the fish just were not biting.
He tried grubs and snails and rare Brazilian skinks; maggots,
salmon eggs, and every bait that stinks.
He finally shook his head and spoke, "That's everything I had
and not a nibble did I get, what say you, grandad?
The fisher looked at him and winked, said "You need to learn some more. Just remember there's a fine line between a fisherman, and an idiot on the shore. I told you once, now this is twice: come back and see me later. And next time don't bring along your voice, you little master baiter."
Third times the charm he thought, as he showed up on the dock
and sat down to wait the fisherman, on his favorite rock.
Two hours passed, and still he hadn't shown
the boy just sat and waited there, on the jetty all alone.
A passerby just shook his and said "Old Jed is gone. Reeled in by the greatest Fisher, been a week since he passed on.
He told me if I saw you, did my old pal Jed,
that he left you all the fishing gear that there was in his shed."
While the boy was trying cope with the fisher being dead,
his unheeding footsteps took him over to the shed.
His hands sought out a bamboo pole and a bobber made of cork,
and baited a worm upon the hook before his mind could work.
His sensibilities came to him with a little splash,
of sinker hitting water and the leaders flash.
He sat there contemplating Jed until the dawning light.
And as he sat there silently, the fish began to bite.
A lesson learned too late is still a lesson learned,
for Jed had taught the boy exactly that for which he yearned.
The fisherman is gone, no more for worldly strife,
but where he used to sit and fish, there's a new one, such is life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
Part 2, since it was too big to post all at once.A STAR LOST LOVER
A STAR LOST LOVER
Swear I to you the following be true
Just like a year there are many seasons
Well if the truth be made known to you
I love you for a litany of reasons
The way you would play little game
Perhaps just to keep me on my toes
The very first time I saw you I would know thy name
And no matter what I dubbed thee “Rose”
For none so grand as red amongst green
And a bud which was made to bloom for fame
I beheld you Rose but would not disturb the scene
Because you are glorious and I would not chance the blame
I’ve never held your hand because fate is fickle indeed
nor have I ever been wrapped by the warmth and comfort of you
For thee my royal Rose I would weep and/or bleed
And as all star crossed lovers I’d do that which they are forced to do
I’d stand afar yet observe and grin at your grace
With your loveliness and the graceful way you grow upon the vine
I wouldst feel blessed were I to place a smile on your face
And believe me Rose, I weep because you’ll never be mine
© 2011...Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Swear I to you the following be true
Just like a year there are many seasons
Well if the truth be made known to you
I love you for a litany of reasons
The way you would play little game
Perhaps just to keep me on my toes
The very first time I saw you I would know thy name
And no matter what I dubbed thee “Rose”
For none so grand as red amongst green
And a bud which was made to bloom for fame
I beheld you Rose but would not disturb the scene
Because you are glorious and I would not chance the blame
I’ve never held your hand because fate is fickle indeed
nor have I ever been wrapped by the warmth and comfort of you
For thee my royal Rose I would weep and/or bleed
And as all star crossed lovers I’d do that which they are forced to do
I’d stand afar yet observe and grin at your grace
With your loveliness and the graceful way you grow upon the vine
I wouldst feel blessed were I to place a smile on your face
And believe me Rose, I weep because you’ll never be mine
© 2011...Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2011
About this poem:
THIS IS A POEMALIBIES AND ALIASES
ALIBIES AND ALIASES
I’ve been a whore, a bore, a thief and a brute
Of that there seems to be little dispute
I’ve been lost at a cost and found upon the ground
And there’s very little argument to where I am bound
I’ve done things a real man ain’t supposed to do
I’ve been a liar, a letch, a con-man and a wretch too
I’ve stolen with only one goal in mind
While I’ve been unfaithful and unilaterally unkind
I’ve gotten anything that felt good enough to get
But I couldn’t be righteous, not even on a bet
I’ve been a soul out of control and out of good luck
Because I never gave a damn and surely never gave a fu*k
I never gave a f*ck about who I’d f*ck next
And as for a library of falsehoods I composed the text
I’ve been a whore, a bore and a brute for sure
And for what ails me there surely ain’t no cure
©2011.…~free cee!~PHREEPOETREE
I’ve been a whore, a bore, a thief and a brute
Of that there seems to be little dispute
I’ve been lost at a cost and found upon the ground
And there’s very little argument to where I am bound
I’ve done things a real man ain’t supposed to do
I’ve been a liar, a letch, a con-man and a wretch too
I’ve stolen with only one goal in mind
While I’ve been unfaithful and unilaterally unkind
I’ve gotten anything that felt good enough to get
But I couldn’t be righteous, not even on a bet
I’ve been a soul out of control and out of good luck
Because I never gave a damn and surely never gave a fu*k
I never gave a f*ck about who I’d f*ck next
And as for a library of falsehoods I composed the text
I’ve been a whore, a bore and a brute for sure
And for what ails me there surely ain’t no cure
©2011.…~free cee!~PHREEPOETREE
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2011
About this poem:
THIS IS A POEM
you have to wonder, don't you?
It seems there are lonely people everywhere
looking for the one person to fulfill their life;
how many of you are genuine out there?
How many of us will find husband or wife?
If nothing else ever comes of this trial,
At least I can always say it was fun to look.
I’ve met and talked to men both funny and vile,
but hey, you have to at least try the book.
When all is said and done and I give up
this futile search and understand why I’m alone,
that’s the day my true love will show up
and it’ll be too late for us; I only hope I’m wrong.
But you have to wonder, don’t you?
And how will you know unless you try?
There isn’t much to lose but time and you
may just get lucky once before you have to die.
looking for the one person to fulfill their life;
how many of you are genuine out there?
How many of us will find husband or wife?
If nothing else ever comes of this trial,
At least I can always say it was fun to look.
I’ve met and talked to men both funny and vile,
but hey, you have to at least try the book.
When all is said and done and I give up
this futile search and understand why I’m alone,
that’s the day my true love will show up
and it’ll be too late for us; I only hope I’m wrong.
But you have to wonder, don’t you?
And how will you know unless you try?
There isn’t much to lose but time and you
may just get lucky once before you have to die.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2011
Post CommentNO MORE DADDY'S HANDS!
For Glory, who is more than I‘ll ever be, yet brings the best out in me….
NO MORE DADDY’S HANDS
Daddy has his demands
Especially at night
And oh the size of his great big hands
Yet Daddy was deemed delight
But it hurts me when the darkness rules
And onto my bed climbs pain and humiliation
It did no good to claim him king of fools
Because he had a need to fuel his fascination
"No daddy" I’d beg with blood in my voice
And a plea that would go unheard
As for a little girl i wasn’t offered a choice
And mommy wouldn’t have believed one solitary word
There were no words to ease my pain
While I imagined visiting foreign lands
I’d close my eyes as part of my soul was slain
“Oh no,” I’d silently plead, “no more daddy’s hands”
© 2011...Phreepoetreee ~free cee!~
NO MORE DADDY’S HANDS
Daddy has his demands
Especially at night
And oh the size of his great big hands
Yet Daddy was deemed delight
But it hurts me when the darkness rules
And onto my bed climbs pain and humiliation
It did no good to claim him king of fools
Because he had a need to fuel his fascination
"No daddy" I’d beg with blood in my voice
And a plea that would go unheard
As for a little girl i wasn’t offered a choice
And mommy wouldn’t have believed one solitary word
There were no words to ease my pain
While I imagined visiting foreign lands
I’d close my eyes as part of my soul was slain
“Oh no,” I’d silently plead, “no more daddy’s hands”
© 2011...Phreepoetreee ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2011
About this poem:
THIS IS A POEM REQUESTED BY A DELIGHT, A LADY AND A POET SUPREME!ONE BREATH OF KNOWLEDGE
ONE BREATH OF KNOWLEDGE
Baby tell me everything I need to know in one single breath
Describe to me having phun, having plans and having a child
Tell me in one long deep breath all about life and death
And how I should live with ease and stop living in the wild
In one solitary breath tell me to leave the forest for some tiny town
With one breath tell me precisely what it is I need to do
In one breath tell me to stop running around and to cool it and calm down
Take one oxygen granting breath and tell me all about the beauty of you
Simply lay down beside me and with only one breath begin to speak
Instruct me in what I need to finally and at last succeed
In one and only one breath teach me how to help the lame and the weak
Please baby, as naked as you are reveal all the meager things I really need
Don’t take another breath as you proscribe the way I should live
Tell me whether I’ll live or die if I don’t settle down somewhere
Describe to me the feeling if I stopped taking and learned how to give
Baby, in one soulful breath make everything I need to know crystalline clear
© 2011.…PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Baby tell me everything I need to know in one single breath
Describe to me having phun, having plans and having a child
Tell me in one long deep breath all about life and death
And how I should live with ease and stop living in the wild
In one solitary breath tell me to leave the forest for some tiny town
With one breath tell me precisely what it is I need to do
In one breath tell me to stop running around and to cool it and calm down
Take one oxygen granting breath and tell me all about the beauty of you
Simply lay down beside me and with only one breath begin to speak
Instruct me in what I need to finally and at last succeed
In one and only one breath teach me how to help the lame and the weak
Please baby, as naked as you are reveal all the meager things I really need
Don’t take another breath as you proscribe the way I should live
Tell me whether I’ll live or die if I don’t settle down somewhere
Describe to me the feeling if I stopped taking and learned how to give
Baby, in one soulful breath make everything I need to know crystalline clear
© 2011.…PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2011
About this poem:
THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN BY THE HANDS OF SELFISH LADIES WHOTAKE MEN'S FEELINGS FOR GRANTED
THE WOMEN WHO WATCH THE CLOCK RATHER THAN THE
SENENETY OF A LAKE
THE ONES WHO HAVE NO INTENTION OF GIVING
BUT ARE EXPERTS IN HOW TO TAKE
SIGNED BY ONE WHO GIVES MUCH NORE THAN HE TAKES!
~free cee!~
SOMEONE WHO COULD EASILY SELL HIS WORDS BUT WOULD RATHER GIVE THEM
AWAY FOR FREE
nostradamus tea party
stop a mambo step..
a harsh salsa..
pale in regae ...
a harsh salsa..
pale in regae ...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
the guy has really a manner of jewish humor...Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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