Here is a list of Random 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.
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 Comment
Kiwis - With pictures
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
The kiwi is a fluffy fowl
With a long, slim, pointed beak.
But Kiwi's come to mean to all,
Folks of which I wish to speak.
I've made some friends online you see,
And they have taught me quite a bit.
The culture is quite int'resting,
They are a folk of soul and wit.
Whalers, sealers, traders and such,
They put the island on the map.
Shepherds, miners, farmers then came,
The rich resources there to tap.
Maori tribes lost all they had,
To greed and violence of whites.
This led to their almost collapse,
These horrid wars and bitter fights.
But now there's harmony so sweet,
As natives and Kiwis made peace.
With grit and courage they have won,
The trouble and the wars surcease.
Mountains, forests, beaches so fine,
Their island home has ev'rything.
This paradise in which they dwell,
Enough to cause a tear to bring.
Though I've only seen in pictures,
And some few videos and such,
It is a place I long to see,
Upon these shores I yearn to touch.
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
The kiwi is a fluffy fowl
With a long, slim, pointed beak.
But Kiwi's come to mean to all,
Folks of which I wish to speak.
I've made some friends online you see,
And they have taught me quite a bit.
The culture is quite int'resting,
They are a folk of soul and wit.
Whalers, sealers, traders and such,
They put the island on the map.
Shepherds, miners, farmers then came,
The rich resources there to tap.
Maori tribes lost all they had,
To greed and violence of whites.
This led to their almost collapse,
These horrid wars and bitter fights.
But now there's harmony so sweet,
As natives and Kiwis made peace.
With grit and courage they have won,
The trouble and the wars surcease.
Mountains, forests, beaches so fine,
Their island home has ev'rything.
This paradise in which they dwell,
Enough to cause a tear to bring.
Though I've only seen in pictures,
And some few videos and such,
It is a place I long to see,
Upon these shores I yearn to touch.
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
Sounds like a lovely place. It's definitely on my bucket list.Added pix.
Misernomics
the talking heads are also comics
these economic geniuses after years
are spouting praises of Misernomics
quick study concluded we're in arrears
and need to decapitalize life today
don't spend anything you ain't got
to forestall our tomorrow going away
good advice founding fathers caught
and don't pay for what you don't need
so therefore we'll cut back education
sound advice in sane person might heed
to better manage our bankrupt nation
and health and vitality merely frills
no need to waste our coins on want
when trying to cover economic ills
monetary mismanagement returns to haunt
what we want is to address our need
to count ourselves and sum our greed
those roads, bridges, electrical grids
mattered back when the things we did
were more important than take home pay
we'll keep it all and count it up
what you knew then, has now gone astray
soon Spend-it-omics could again erupt
our future, our kids, our progeny all
"This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want"
matters minor, in our countless pall
our poorest desire, the possible, too daunt
in the mean time we say "thanks a bunch"
We'll save our lives for better times
food for thought on societies free lunch
We'll save our monied economic crimes
as Silas Marner tabled reclusive coins
no weighty matters outweigh the economy
these fearful economic times purloined
might priorities reflect our tragicomedy?
© agoodguy2have 2011-07-06
these economic geniuses after years
are spouting praises of Misernomics
quick study concluded we're in arrears
and need to decapitalize life today
don't spend anything you ain't got
to forestall our tomorrow going away
good advice founding fathers caught
and don't pay for what you don't need
so therefore we'll cut back education
sound advice in sane person might heed
to better manage our bankrupt nation
and health and vitality merely frills
no need to waste our coins on want
when trying to cover economic ills
monetary mismanagement returns to haunt
what we want is to address our need
to count ourselves and sum our greed
those roads, bridges, electrical grids
mattered back when the things we did
were more important than take home pay
we'll keep it all and count it up
what you knew then, has now gone astray
soon Spend-it-omics could again erupt
our future, our kids, our progeny all
"This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want"
matters minor, in our countless pall
our poorest desire, the possible, too daunt
in the mean time we say "thanks a bunch"
We'll save our lives for better times
food for thought on societies free lunch
We'll save our monied economic crimes
as Silas Marner tabled reclusive coins
no weighty matters outweigh the economy
these fearful economic times purloined
might priorities reflect our tragicomedy?
© agoodguy2have 2011-07-06
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
we're counting...on you
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. :)Adventures in Plumbing
Plumbing can be a mystery,
Though doesn't seem like it should be.
All runs downhill, or so they say,
It's all in joining 'B' to 'A'.
So why is it that when I try,
Some minor mending to apply,
All my careful preparation,
Only leads to pure frustration?
These fittings don't fit up at all,
This one's too fat and that's too small,
And leaks I try to fix it seems,
They turn themselves to steady streams.
A plumber costs too much for me,
But done for cheap ain't done for free.
Know before I complete this chore,
My fourth trip to the hardware store.
Though doesn't seem like it should be.
All runs downhill, or so they say,
It's all in joining 'B' to 'A'.
So why is it that when I try,
Some minor mending to apply,
All my careful preparation,
Only leads to pure frustration?
These fittings don't fit up at all,
This one's too fat and that's too small,
And leaks I try to fix it seems,
They turn themselves to steady streams.
A plumber costs too much for me,
But done for cheap ain't done for free.
Know before I complete this chore,
My fourth trip to the hardware store.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
What I've been fighting the last several days...
online today!The Wheel Of Life
The wheel of life keeps turning every day
Birth, life and then the subsequent decay
All living things must return whence they came
The pattern always remaining the same
All living things start life's journey at birth
Become adult through the process of growth
They then participate in reproduction
Thus creating the next generation
Life then continues daily in this world
Until old age and illness take their toll
Lastly, all must face death's reality
That brings a final end to life's journey
The wheel goes through a full revolution
With each and every new generation
Whatever is alive will someday die
This will surely happen as time goes by
Birth, life and then the subsequent decay
All living things must return whence they came
The pattern always remaining the same
All living things start life's journey at birth
Become adult through the process of growth
They then participate in reproduction
Thus creating the next generation
Life then continues daily in this world
Until old age and illness take their toll
Lastly, all must face death's reality
That brings a final end to life's journey
The wheel goes through a full revolution
With each and every new generation
Whatever is alive will someday die
This will surely happen as time goes by
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2014
Post Comment
Birds that never flew
Sometimes on a summer
when the skies are blue
I think about those childhood friends
the birds that never flew
Dead and gone by accident
sicknesses we knew
I only hope they're growing tall
on some sweet avenue
when the skies are blue
I think about those childhood friends
the birds that never flew
Dead and gone by accident
sicknesses we knew
I only hope they're growing tall
on some sweet avenue
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2021
About this poem:
simple elegy for the ones we left behindi do not see this posted to the second power
I WILL NOT DANCE BECAUSE IT’S THE SAME OLD SONG
Walk a high wire
Walk on the third rail
Walk on fire
And I’ll explain all this with one short tale
I thought for sure it wouldn’t get me
I would get it and I got it for sure
You wouldn’t recognize me if you met me
Because I’ve the wounds of a disease no one can cure
There’s about ten thousand things I’d rather do
Then to find and lose a lovely lady like you
I’d rather be caged with a tiger in the zoo
As slowly my disease progressed and grew
So here sit I on the subway steps a victim of what I sought
Never did I think this could happen to me and hurt so very many
Then by a thin tiny needle was I trapped and thusly caught
And no one would believe my story if I revealed my thoughts for a penny
If it was worth any money I’d throttle and choke a cute little rabbit
And when I see an old lady with a diamond I nab it
If a man in a wheel chair is counting his cash I just grab it
Because these are the things a diseased man does every day to sustain his dope habit
Being caught in a bear trap
Watch my brother die and I not care
Find hell with a map
But kick a habit like this I do not dare
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Walk a high wire
Walk on the third rail
Walk on fire
And I’ll explain all this with one short tale
I thought for sure it wouldn’t get me
I would get it and I got it for sure
You wouldn’t recognize me if you met me
Because I’ve the wounds of a disease no one can cure
There’s about ten thousand things I’d rather do
Then to find and lose a lovely lady like you
I’d rather be caged with a tiger in the zoo
As slowly my disease progressed and grew
So here sit I on the subway steps a victim of what I sought
Never did I think this could happen to me and hurt so very many
Then by a thin tiny needle was I trapped and thusly caught
And no one would believe my story if I revealed my thoughts for a penny
If it was worth any money I’d throttle and choke a cute little rabbit
And when I see an old lady with a diamond I nab it
If a man in a wheel chair is counting his cash I just grab it
Because these are the things a diseased man does every day to sustain his dope habit
Being caught in a bear trap
Watch my brother die and I not care
Find hell with a map
But kick a habit like this I do not dare
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i ain't got time.....the b*tch who owns the Lexus and is treating me to a steak dinner is honking like crazy byyyyeeeee!online today!Childhood Memories: Vigus and I
I clearly recall Vigus who was around eight
Wearing a girl's dress climbing over their front gate
His folks thought this apparel would keep him at home
And discourage him from leaving their place to roam
When we played a game of marbles on the bare ground
He would tuck the dress between his legs and stoop down
This was in preparation for his turn to “pitch”
So he could aim at the target without a hitch
His first language was a version of French patois
Which he learned in his native island, St. Lucia
When we first met and he spoke French patois to me
I, not understanding, would nod approvingly
We made chocolate ice cream from sifted dirt and sand
And sought someone to taste our own special brand
He was my next door neighbour and as a young boy
Playing together as children brought us great joy
Wearing a girl's dress climbing over their front gate
His folks thought this apparel would keep him at home
And discourage him from leaving their place to roam
When we played a game of marbles on the bare ground
He would tuck the dress between his legs and stoop down
This was in preparation for his turn to “pitch”
So he could aim at the target without a hitch
His first language was a version of French patois
Which he learned in his native island, St. Lucia
When we first met and he spoke French patois to me
I, not understanding, would nod approvingly
We made chocolate ice cream from sifted dirt and sand
And sought someone to taste our own special brand
He was my next door neighbour and as a young boy
Playing together as children brought us great joy
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2017
About this poem:
Iambic hexameter(bentlee's challenge)
posthumous life
I think I'll die before I live
from time to time, I suppose
life seems more take than give
a cynical opinion sometimes shows
Michael, Gabriel or Azrael may
come to bring me my pink slip
and leave my future in disarray
ticket punched for the return trip
yet if I can get the jump on it
go ahead and postulate anyhow
a posthumous life might better befit
than what I've got here right now
today's stance an intractable position
a life well lived, for argument's sake
could depart now of my own volition
and leave some witticism at my wake
then folks who knew me, not one iota
could say "just seemed to be so content"
"though lately colder than North Dakota"
"To hell is what I think was meant"
and maybe I'll live on in my words
to make life both meaningful and bold
'stead of day's living for the birds
a posthumous life a thing to behold
'course I might need to think again
considering all the prose and cons
my best thinkin' might be just insane
afterlife might be a big come on.
maybe it's not any better than this
my Shangri-La might be right here
too hard to look back and reminisce
if I just posthumously disappear
© agoodguy2have 2011-06-27
from time to time, I suppose
life seems more take than give
a cynical opinion sometimes shows
Michael, Gabriel or Azrael may
come to bring me my pink slip
and leave my future in disarray
ticket punched for the return trip
yet if I can get the jump on it
go ahead and postulate anyhow
a posthumous life might better befit
than what I've got here right now
today's stance an intractable position
a life well lived, for argument's sake
could depart now of my own volition
and leave some witticism at my wake
then folks who knew me, not one iota
could say "just seemed to be so content"
"though lately colder than North Dakota"
"To hell is what I think was meant"
and maybe I'll live on in my words
to make life both meaningful and bold
'stead of day's living for the birds
a posthumous life a thing to behold
'course I might need to think again
considering all the prose and cons
my best thinkin' might be just insane
afterlife might be a big come on.
maybe it's not any better than this
my Shangri-La might be right here
too hard to look back and reminisce
if I just posthumously disappear
© agoodguy2have 2011-06-27
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
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