Here is a list of Most Viewed Beat 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.
DO NOT READ THIS!
"Daddy?
What is that?"
"It's nothing Sweetie,
Now go to bed."
"But Daddy?
I still hear it!"
"Listen young lady,
Now do what I said!"
"Daddy?
Do you love me?"
"Oh honey,
You know that I do."
"Then Daddy?
Please tell me,"
"Yes Princess?"
"Please tell me the truth."
"I told you it's a cat,
Or a squealing mouse,
That umm...,
That cat's about to crunch."
"Be careful or,
He might just,
Just might,
Have YOU for lunch!"
"Not funny,
Dummy Daddy!
Sounds just like,
A girl who's hurt and crying."
"I told you,
You stupid little brat,
It's just that ugly fu*kin' mouse,
Screaming out as it's dying!"
"Daddy?,
Do you still love me?"
"Please, Sweet Pumkin,
You know doggone well that I do."
"Then Daddy?
Please tell me,
Why you won't just,
Won't just tell me the truth?"
What is that?"
"It's nothing Sweetie,
Now go to bed."
"But Daddy?
I still hear it!"
"Listen young lady,
Now do what I said!"
"Daddy?
Do you love me?"
"Oh honey,
You know that I do."
"Then Daddy?
Please tell me,"
"Yes Princess?"
"Please tell me the truth."
"I told you it's a cat,
Or a squealing mouse,
That umm...,
That cat's about to crunch."
"Be careful or,
He might just,
Just might,
Have YOU for lunch!"
"Not funny,
Dummy Daddy!
Sounds just like,
A girl who's hurt and crying."
"I told you,
You stupid little brat,
It's just that ugly fu*kin' mouse,
Screaming out as it's dying!"
"Daddy?,
Do you still love me?"
"Please, Sweet Pumkin,
You know doggone well that I do."
"Then Daddy?
Please tell me,
Why you won't just,
Won't just tell me the truth?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2018
About this poem:
Wow! This one is WAY DIFFERENT from any of my usual styles. It felt like I was on a high as I wrote it, or rather, it wrote itself. I just arranged the words on a piece of brown paper bag as I sat at a bus stop.I believe the first time a child catches a parent in a lie, or observes them doing something immoral or illegal, they are very confused and sadly may even, like the child in this poem, question that parents love for them.
And now for something completely different...Is the crying this little girl heard coming from outside or inside the house? Is it her mother? Her sister?
Does she believe it could be her daddy that's making it happen. And what could this child possibly feel when she looks at him?
She asks him twice if he loves her.
"Throwing my Pitch"
I'm up at dawn and the mental gears are engaged,
the day will be long, my schedules been staged.
I've loaded my gear, trailer's ready to roll,
When sun dial hits 7:00, tis my cue to go.
Today is mowing, weed-eating, trimming and blowing
discarded leaves from trees that have been sowing.
Flower beds, homes and yards needing TLC,
assigned by their owners trustingly to me.
Like unmade beds and left over dirty dishes,
where a maid is hired to fulfill their wishes.
My services are rendered in the same intended way
to improve that which is neglected day after day.
The gift of good health to do all my work,
is a blessing from God, and not just a quirk.
To have this job at a time of economic strife,
Pleases me well, but I'd also like a wife!
I've no time to test the waters, to seek, to search
for a beautiful young gal to go with me to church.
So it's here to this site that I turn my attention
to publicly announce that I'm seeking her affection.
I'm a hard worker, fit, reliable and strong,
but to no-one that I'm in love with, do I belong.
'RICH' - I'm NOT!, (but neither am I shamefully poor),
Debt free I am, and 'DEBT' is something I want - NO MORE!
So excuse the attempt I've thrown out in poetic form,
to introduce myself as being available for your charm.
If preferences can be mentioned without insult or pain,
tis a younger, dark haired, slender beauty I hope to gain!
"OK ladies, your turn - I'm waiting!" :-)
the day will be long, my schedules been staged.
I've loaded my gear, trailer's ready to roll,
When sun dial hits 7:00, tis my cue to go.
Today is mowing, weed-eating, trimming and blowing
discarded leaves from trees that have been sowing.
Flower beds, homes and yards needing TLC,
assigned by their owners trustingly to me.
Like unmade beds and left over dirty dishes,
where a maid is hired to fulfill their wishes.
My services are rendered in the same intended way
to improve that which is neglected day after day.
The gift of good health to do all my work,
is a blessing from God, and not just a quirk.
To have this job at a time of economic strife,
Pleases me well, but I'd also like a wife!
I've no time to test the waters, to seek, to search
for a beautiful young gal to go with me to church.
So it's here to this site that I turn my attention
to publicly announce that I'm seeking her affection.
I'm a hard worker, fit, reliable and strong,
but to no-one that I'm in love with, do I belong.
'RICH' - I'm NOT!, (but neither am I shamefully poor),
Debt free I am, and 'DEBT' is something I want - NO MORE!
So excuse the attempt I've thrown out in poetic form,
to introduce myself as being available for your charm.
If preferences can be mentioned without insult or pain,
tis a younger, dark haired, slender beauty I hope to gain!
"OK ladies, your turn - I'm waiting!" :-)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
I think this one speaks for it's self! :-)FOUR LITTLE LETTERS
If four little letters placed next to each other
could effectually change our perspective on things,
those same little letters beside one another
that unite husbands and wives with symbolic rings,
What else could be done with such power so Divine
from four little letters positioned in a row
where people are changed by intended design
by the mystical 'word' these four letters bestow?
Could PEACE be the end of all strife amongst men?
Could HOPE be the reward of all who discover?
Could FAITH quench the turmoil of doubt within?
Could SELFLESSNESS develop between one another?
The mysterious power of these four letters in a row
making a simple word that's exalted above all others,
with life changing effects upon all who might know
it's Divine ability of converting strangers to brothers.
These four little letters when placed side by side
will reveal this powerful word I've written of
these four little letters in all hearts should abide
So that toward ALL we respond in nothing but L.O.V.E.
could effectually change our perspective on things,
those same little letters beside one another
that unite husbands and wives with symbolic rings,
What else could be done with such power so Divine
from four little letters positioned in a row
where people are changed by intended design
by the mystical 'word' these four letters bestow?
Could PEACE be the end of all strife amongst men?
Could HOPE be the reward of all who discover?
Could FAITH quench the turmoil of doubt within?
Could SELFLESSNESS develop between one another?
The mysterious power of these four letters in a row
making a simple word that's exalted above all others,
with life changing effects upon all who might know
it's Divine ability of converting strangers to brothers.
These four little letters when placed side by side
will reveal this powerful word I've written of
these four little letters in all hearts should abide
So that toward ALL we respond in nothing but L.O.V.E.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
One of my Pen-Pals asked me to consider writing and submitting a Valentines Day poem for the poetry forum, so in honor of "Jib" I have done just that. Being as I have no 'Valentine' of my own, I've made my poem of more of a generality of LOVE for ALL to enjoy. It's early I know.... but HAPPY VALENTINES DAY to all of you wonderful poets of C.S. !!! q:-)Reading as a Child
Reading as a Child
Where can I find quiet?
My thoughts scatter at sounds
knocking, knock-knocking.
Inside the panelled cave dwells parents’ silent attire.
I enter and turn, facing out.
Calm cottons, serene silks, peaceful polyesters
drape behind me like ghosts from the past.
I roll the hollow door shut, pressing in the peace.
As I lower myself to sit,
I fall through layers of shoe funk
hovering two feet thick.
Unfortunately, the quiet awakens Tinnitus,
who is usually hidden laced within the racket.
Finally secure, I concentrate my quilted mind under a dim bulb
and over words barely reflecting into peepholes.
Comprehension is vital
dad wears out his tongue,
as Mom sits hooked,
weaving twisted worries
that I pattern.
Where can I find quiet?
My thoughts scatter at sounds
knocking, knock-knocking.
Inside the panelled cave dwells parents’ silent attire.
I enter and turn, facing out.
Calm cottons, serene silks, peaceful polyesters
drape behind me like ghosts from the past.
I roll the hollow door shut, pressing in the peace.
As I lower myself to sit,
I fall through layers of shoe funk
hovering two feet thick.
Unfortunately, the quiet awakens Tinnitus,
who is usually hidden laced within the racket.
Finally secure, I concentrate my quilted mind under a dim bulb
and over words barely reflecting into peepholes.
Comprehension is vital
dad wears out his tongue,
as Mom sits hooked,
weaving twisted worries
that I pattern.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
“The greatest tragedy of the family is the unlived lives of the parents.”- C.G. Jung
Prelude to insanity
Within my dreams of tortured screams
and memories of long ago
I watched the act
denied as fact
and pursued her through the snow.
And in this dream
to me it seems
as though im almost dead
when Im ripped apart
and fed my heart
to awake upon my bed.
The dreams of night
with fists clenched tight
had followed me once again
and all my fears
wet my pillow with tears
as I expect the end.
Never before was I so bold
as when I tell you this.
The fear of death and the reapers breath
are as comforting as a lovers kiss.
I wipe at my eye
not willing to cry
must keep my sanity intact
little did I know
it was because of the snow
that kept me from attack.
I stand and scream
shattering all things
that happen to be in the room
the voice in my head
starts whispering instead
the end is coming soon.
I stand at the window
feeling the wind blow
through the broken glass
I cut my feet
climbing into the street
to fulfill my morbid task.
I land in the lawn
hours before dawn
listening to the voices
the demons around
retreat from my sound
so I stop to consider my choices.
I head for the trees
scraping my knees
because of the briers around
my rage intact
as a matter of fact
cruel suggestions
and self doubt abound.
A clearing in the forest
filled with chorus
by the evil thats out tonight
a circle of Satan
strengthened through hating
is witnessed under crisp moonlight.
In the middle of the night
Im turned on by the sight
at the scene taking place before me
levitating in air
with blood streaked hair
is an angelic symbol of mercy.
Raped and beaten
at this occultic meeting
she begs for sudden death
but the seed shes received
guarantees shell conceive
for the righteous theres never rest.
David M. Hill
and memories of long ago
I watched the act
denied as fact
and pursued her through the snow.
And in this dream
to me it seems
as though im almost dead
when Im ripped apart
and fed my heart
to awake upon my bed.
The dreams of night
with fists clenched tight
had followed me once again
and all my fears
wet my pillow with tears
as I expect the end.
Never before was I so bold
as when I tell you this.
The fear of death and the reapers breath
are as comforting as a lovers kiss.
I wipe at my eye
not willing to cry
must keep my sanity intact
little did I know
it was because of the snow
that kept me from attack.
I stand and scream
shattering all things
that happen to be in the room
the voice in my head
starts whispering instead
the end is coming soon.
I stand at the window
feeling the wind blow
through the broken glass
I cut my feet
climbing into the street
to fulfill my morbid task.
I land in the lawn
hours before dawn
listening to the voices
the demons around
retreat from my sound
so I stop to consider my choices.
I head for the trees
scraping my knees
because of the briers around
my rage intact
as a matter of fact
cruel suggestions
and self doubt abound.
A clearing in the forest
filled with chorus
by the evil thats out tonight
a circle of Satan
strengthened through hating
is witnessed under crisp moonlight.
In the middle of the night
Im turned on by the sight
at the scene taking place before me
levitating in air
with blood streaked hair
is an angelic symbol of mercy.
Raped and beaten
at this occultic meeting
she begs for sudden death
but the seed shes received
guarantees shell conceive
for the righteous theres never rest.
David M. Hill
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2011
Post Comment
Frog’s Legs
Once upon a time there lived a boy
Who was groomed to become a prince,
Get married and live happily ever since
That story took the wrong course
There is more to it than
A bunch of lies in a pool of pain
No purpose to dwell, regret or to blame
The fairy tale fell apart
Leaving a girl with a broken heart
The boy destined to become a prince
Turned into a frog
And chose to live in a swamp ever since
When an appetizer of fried frogs legs
Is served to you in a restaurant
Beware they may belong to a prince
Who lived his life with a broken heart
Who was groomed to become a prince,
Get married and live happily ever since
That story took the wrong course
There is more to it than
A bunch of lies in a pool of pain
No purpose to dwell, regret or to blame
The fairy tale fell apart
Leaving a girl with a broken heart
The boy destined to become a prince
Turned into a frog
And chose to live in a swamp ever since
When an appetizer of fried frogs legs
Is served to you in a restaurant
Beware they may belong to a prince
Who lived his life with a broken heart
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2019
About this poem:
Just a story...'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue'...
A man walks into a local cafe hungry as can be,
While pondering upon the menu a sudden mystery!
Stationed all around him twas young and old alike,
Each awaiting their opportunity to dominate a mic.
Attention now at full arrest, his ears well tuned in,
He turned to a lady sitting near wearing a sheepish grin.
To her he says 'I'm new to this place, what's a goin on?'
'New indeed!' 'Tis our day for readin or recitin a poem!'
An hour or so passes by as poetry fills the room,
Poems of Wonder, Love and Lust, Poems of Joy and Gloom.
The stranger thinks he knows a poem he'd gladly like to share,
A chance for him to have his voice poured into poetic air.
The mic at last to him is passed & he proudly takes a stand,
and begins to recite from memory a poem he wrote at ten.
The audience is noticeably hushed in nearly traumatic form
When 'Roses are Red - Violets are Blue..' from his lips are born.
The quietness of the crowd, to him was awe, wonder then respect
Until a neighbor grabbed the mic while groaning with regret.
To his grinning lady friend he turned for a word of advise,
'Some can melt a heart with words but you've turned ours to ice!'
Don't be hurt that your words have failed to spark passion or fire,
Just make a note and have it with you the next time you desire...
to share your thoughts in poetic form to those more seasoned than you,
Don't start a poetic rhyme with 'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue..'!
While pondering upon the menu a sudden mystery!
Stationed all around him twas young and old alike,
Each awaiting their opportunity to dominate a mic.
Attention now at full arrest, his ears well tuned in,
He turned to a lady sitting near wearing a sheepish grin.
To her he says 'I'm new to this place, what's a goin on?'
'New indeed!' 'Tis our day for readin or recitin a poem!'
An hour or so passes by as poetry fills the room,
Poems of Wonder, Love and Lust, Poems of Joy and Gloom.
The stranger thinks he knows a poem he'd gladly like to share,
A chance for him to have his voice poured into poetic air.
The mic at last to him is passed & he proudly takes a stand,
and begins to recite from memory a poem he wrote at ten.
The audience is noticeably hushed in nearly traumatic form
When 'Roses are Red - Violets are Blue..' from his lips are born.
The quietness of the crowd, to him was awe, wonder then respect
Until a neighbor grabbed the mic while groaning with regret.
To his grinning lady friend he turned for a word of advise,
'Some can melt a heart with words but you've turned ours to ice!'
Don't be hurt that your words have failed to spark passion or fire,
Just make a note and have it with you the next time you desire...
to share your thoughts in poetic form to those more seasoned than you,
Don't start a poetic rhyme with 'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue..'!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
Just a challenge to those afraid of venturing out into something less familiar when tempted to express oneself in poetic form.????? ????? ???
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~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2010
About this poem:
????? ?????
Dreams
Dreams
Dreams are just ubiquitous feelings
Whose direction really scatter
Hard to watch sometimes
When the truth will really flatter
Where courage never fails us
Causing trust to shatter
All the whilst the raindrops fall
Softly with a pitter patter
Even when voices are vague
Conversations just chitter chatter
Olympic feats and memorials
Only fitting for such a satyr
So dreams are only dreams
Even if they sometimes matter
(c) Yankee4you 2018
Dreams are just ubiquitous feelings
Whose direction really scatter
Hard to watch sometimes
When the truth will really flatter
Where courage never fails us
Causing trust to shatter
All the whilst the raindrops fall
Softly with a pitter patter
Even when voices are vague
Conversations just chitter chatter
Olympic feats and memorials
Only fitting for such a satyr
So dreams are only dreams
Even if they sometimes matter
(c) Yankee4you 2018
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2018
About this poem:
Dreams are surreal and ubiquitous events.Insomnia
I cannot
Fall asleep,
Who can teach me
To stop time?
Please give me
A sign
The minutes are ticking
So quickly
But I still cannot
Fall asleep,
I cannot sail away
On a frigate of my fantasies,
I cannot stay
By the shores of my illusions,
I can not extinguish
Lanterns
My thoughts are like
Pedestrians
Walking in darkness
Without rules
Can you help me?
My solo friend
Will you sing me?
A song
To attract
Morpheus ?
Do not be afraid,
Be an angel to me
I will not dare
To offend you,
I'm quiet when
I cannot fall asleep
Exactly at midnight
a drummer begins
Wound up.
He jumps
Down and up
Hitting my sleepless brain
I cannot fall asleep.
Here you are my sweet Ankou
In white clothes
I’ve stolen
Your years
And
Left you only my tears
And youth
I still cannot fall asleep...
Fall asleep,
Who can teach me
To stop time?
Please give me
A sign
The minutes are ticking
So quickly
But I still cannot
Fall asleep,
I cannot sail away
On a frigate of my fantasies,
I cannot stay
By the shores of my illusions,
I can not extinguish
Lanterns
My thoughts are like
Pedestrians
Walking in darkness
Without rules
Can you help me?
My solo friend
Will you sing me?
A song
To attract
Morpheus ?
Do not be afraid,
Be an angel to me
I will not dare
To offend you,
I'm quiet when
I cannot fall asleep
Exactly at midnight
a drummer begins
Wound up.
He jumps
Down and up
Hitting my sleepless brain
I cannot fall asleep.
Here you are my sweet Ankou
In white clothes
I’ve stolen
Your years
And
Left you only my tears
And youth
I still cannot fall asleep...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2018
About this poem:
Ive written it some time ago. But the problem is still with me......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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