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Poetry
27 April 2013
3.33am
Egroeg Evoli
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Great poem, Sam! :) apple01

Do you want to know a secret? Read my username backwards. ~ ~ ~ - - - . . . - - - ~ ~ ~ Also known as Egg-Rock, Egg-Roll, E-George, Eggy...

☮ & <3

27 April 2013
12.19pm
fabfouremily
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Egroeg Evoli said

a-hard-days-night-ringo-8 Wonderful! My favorite line: "I guess we just don't want it." We- meaning everyone and anyone who can- need to change this.

Thanks! :D a-hard-days-night-george-9heart

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

7 May 2013
3.54pm
fabfouremily
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Last week my lit. teacher mentioned that a local school was running a poetry/short story competition and, after reading one I had shown her, she suggested I sign up to it.

I was hesitant at first because a) I don't think I'm quite up to contest standard yet, and b) it has to be at least two pgs long, and up to 10, and c) it has to be in Spanish.

Anyway, I decided to give it a try (nothing to lose and all that lot), and I wrote a 3 page poem (longest yet). I gave it to her yesterday and she says she'll give it back to me tomorrow with her thoughts and comments, and I feel quite nervous about what she'll say.

I would've shared it with you guys but I wasn't sure id anyone here speaks Spanish.

EDIT: I forgot to say another reason why I wasn't going to enter: d) anyone in the regoin can enter, so competion may be quite fierce ahdn_paul_01a-hard-days-night-john-2a-hard-days-night-john-7

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

8 May 2013
4.52am
Egroeg Evoli
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I'd love to read it! (I mean, I guess Google Translate won't be 100% correct, but close enough, right? a-hard-days-night-paul-7)

Do you want to know a secret? Read my username backwards. ~ ~ ~ - - - . . . - - - ~ ~ ~ Also known as Egg-Rock, Egg-Roll, E-George, Eggy...

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9 May 2013
9.38am
fabfouremily
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^^^ Okay, I'll post it when I get it back from my teacher :)

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

10 May 2013
10.18pm
Expert Textpert
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fabfouremily said
Here's one I wrote in class today.

Sixty million, they said.

That's sixty million, dead.

Lives ended before they could flourish,

like weeping willows, undernourished.

People shot down before they could flower,

all because of the suits with power.

John Lennon once said:

                                  ''War Is Over

                                   if you want it''

I guess we just don't want it.

I like that.

Here's one I wrote a long time ago.  I don't know what it means. 

I don't really write much anymore.  Words disappoint me.

 

There is a time to drink,

to think outside of time;

for as we step outside,

our western glow retreats

into its shadowy bed.

We slip through hairline labyrinths,

through the null warmth of mother web.

"This Beatles talk bores me to death." --John Lennon

10 May 2013
10.33pm
Expert Textpert
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Here's another, more recent one that I have never shared with anyone.  I'm not sure whether it is finished or not.

There is a quiet voice  
that tells me I can't do good 
because of the bad things I have done.   
It is not the voice of my conscience. 
It belongs to enemies and lovers. 
It is a voice of ridicule and scorn. 
I have made it my own.   
 
When I love more fully,   
the voice speaks louder,  
because it is afraid to die;  
and yet, like me, it has been dying  
since the moment it was born.   
When I struggle against it,   
it drags me into the shadows.   
 
It strangles me.  It steals my breath-- 
but I don't know why I'm struggling.   
I am not this. I am not that.   
Still, there is only me.  
I stop, and enter into the silence.  
In the absence of self, there is only light,
uncreated, with no beginning, with no ending.

"This Beatles talk bores me to death." --John Lennon

11 May 2013
3.57pm
fabfouremily
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^^^^ I like that a lot :D

It sounds finished to me, though you could continue if you wanted to, I suppose.

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

11 May 2013
6.12pm
Egroeg Evoli
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a-hard-days-night-ringo-8 Agreed.

Do you want to know a secret? Read my username backwards. ~ ~ ~ - - - . . . - - - ~ ~ ~ Also known as Egg-Rock, Egg-Roll, E-George, Eggy...

☮ & <3

17 May 2013
5.05pm
fabfouremily
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Autumn, here's the poem I entered the comp with. I wasn't able to make it as long as I wanted to, but it's still okay. Enjoy, hope the translator treats it nicely :)

Guerra, conflicto,

dolor.

Muerte.

Escasez de suerte.

Millones y millones muertos.

¿Y para qué ha servido?

El mundo sigue llorando,

simplemente deseando,

soñando,

en un mundo mejor.

En un paraíso donde guerra,

conflicto, dolor,

muerte,

simplemente no existen.

Hay gente que tiene miedo a la muerte

tiene miedo de ser arrancados de la vida,

de la tierra.

Algo que yo nunca he entendido

ya que la muerte es el final del sufrimiento.

Los que sufren son los que se quedan aquí,

esos son los que siguen dolidos por dentro.

Es muy escandaloso en el campo de batalla

mujeres y hombres, antes

soldados, ahora.

Si se quitaran los guantes se verían sus manos

se vería que son humanos,

seres humanos matando,

asesinando,

para lograr paz.

Otra cosa que yo nunca he entendido,

¿desde cuándo se consigue paz mediante guerra?

No hemos aprendido todavía.

Todavía no hemos aprendido que no se puede conseguir paz mediante guerra.

Un veterano hace poco murió.

Dijo que aún le dolía,

aún le pesaba el corazón

porque al acostarse por la noche

oía los gritos de sus amigos,

los que fallecieron.

Algunos dirían que él fue afortunado,

fue afortunado porque sobrevivió.

Pero ya te he dicho

que los que sobreviven

siguen sufriendo,

siguen dolidos por dentro

hasta que se duermen un día,

y no vuelven a despertarse.

Guerra, conflicto,

dolor.

Muerte.

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

18 May 2013
6.12pm
Egroeg Evoli
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That is amazing. I love it. It's quite powerful. The end literally sent shivers down my spine. You are very talented, Emily. apple01

Do you want to know a secret? Read my username backwards. ~ ~ ~ - - - . . . - - - ~ ~ ~ Also known as Egg-Rock, Egg-Roll, E-George, Eggy...

☮ & <3

18 May 2013
6.17pm
fabfouremily
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^^ Aww, did it, really? That's so nice, thank you. I was having trouble with the second half and then it came to me when I was trying to fall asleep one night. It just all came so quickly. It made me think of Paul and 'Yesterday'.

Glad you liked it :D

''We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out. You gotta get an album out, you owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.''

19 May 2013
4.02am
Fool in a field of Strawberries
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I have one that I wrote for a class, but I'm not sure it's actually any good. I'd love to know what you guys think of it.

Burning-after Ted Kooser

A wave of sound crashes over you as you enter the arena—

following people of varying colors, shapes, sizes, and volumes—

though none truly know why they are

here. You scrimped and saved for this chance

while not knowing why, and you never will.

Not knowing is what drew you to him in the first place;

a moth drawn to his flame,

burning your feet, layer by layer, as you flutter closer to the answer.

He’s superhuman? A god from mythology, come to the present?

Yet you want the flame to consume you, you crave it more than anything,

and you’ll do anything, commit murder even, if you are only allowed the opportunity to burn yourself with his fire.

That is why you are here: You are here for him to use, as an outlet for his passion, his every whim.

He singes your feet for two hours as you writhe and scream with the others, wishing your wings would burn to a crisp.

As you leave, you realize that he had done just that,

used you, used all of you, and been paid to do so.

Your car slowly warms as you sit inside with your head resting on the steering wheel,

savoring what you’ve just allowed the one you have admired since childhood to do with you, to you.

For the first concert you’ve been to on your own, that was far greater than you could ever have imagined. 

7 June 2013
4.19pm
Expert Textpert
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My two new poems:
 
If you and I could see things
as they really are,
we would know
that the Water of Life
is our own consciousness,
the Body of Christ
everything we touch.
Drunk with the wine of gnosis,
we would wake up
on the morning of the first day,
knowing that before the stars
were scattered into space,
I AM.
 
--
 
Falling asleep on my father's breast
I felt the rise and fall of his breath,
the beating of his heart
and the vibration of his words.
All of life is one moment,
but memories are dreams.
 
The breeze caresses my skin
as I walk from the train
in the morning sunlight.
I relax like a child, giving myself.
Something gives back.
The wind rises and falls.

"This Beatles talk bores me to death." --John Lennon

27 September 2013
8.27pm
Ahhh Girl
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mja6758, at first blush with a quick skimming of your poetry, I see such a wonderful variety to keep interest high. I am truly enjoying them.

 

mja6758 said
Hadn't noticed this thread before. Here's one of mine.

Your Hands

Your hands clasped,
prayers for tomorrow?
Your hands holding
out hope for something beyond night
after night
after night.
Your hands reaching
through this pervading darkness,
the candle flickers.
Your hands searching,
match poised,
aiming always to breathe light
into light.
Your hands touching,
but never me,
never mine,
never mind.

I grew up watching the "School House Rock" videos during Saturday morning cartoons. One of them is about inventors and their inventions. The ending goes:

“They made this country really grow, grow, grow, grow
With Mother Necessity and where would we be
Without the inventions of your progeny?”

So is this poem the sigh of resignation of a disillusioned inventor, scientist, painter, songwriter?

Mother Necessity made a plea, a prayer, to one and all to create and innovate to make the world a better, brighter place. She is reaching out through the darkness to help anyone who will turn her thoughts into reality. The breakthrough will come to the one she deems worthy. An eager soul takes up the challenge, but can never make that breakthrough. He sees others around him getting patents and Nobel Prizes. Perhaps Mother Necessity finds our character lacking because he isn’t willing to go out on the cutting edge and really experiment. He is playing it too safe. Perhaps. Or did he just give up in frustration too soon? What would he and Mother Necessity have given the world if he had persisted?

mja6758 said

Bridges

Tonight I think, and think alone,
of all that I have done:
the friends I've hurt, the tears I've cried,
the fact I've only just begun.
The winter it is drawing out
and the snow is starting to fall,
whilst walking by the riverside
I think I hear you call.

I sit here with my memories
and nothing seems worthwhile,
all that remains are photographs
and poems in a file;
moments carefully captured
and stored on bits of paper:
I hid them there so long ago
so I could recall them later.

They tell a story I never could,
things I'd never admit,
like how my words once spoke of beauty
but now just hint at it.
They lay there slowly fading
bringing forth thoughts of yesterday
(people's faces, forgotten places,
times when things were going my way).

We'd walk along, hand in hand,
stand on the iron bridge.
Slowly you'd wipe away my tears
and silently we'd kiss.
That summer was made of a magic
that had to one day fade and blur,
and what once we viewed as beautiful
has now become a slur.

We'd talk into the cigarette light
of early dawn about love and life —
we'd comfort each other in sadness,
we'd comfort each other in strife.
But now those memories are long gone,
and only return in splashes,
when I'm reminded of your laughter and smile,
your silent midnight splashes.

Now I'm said to be dark and brooding
and in great need of a new love.
No one understands that after loving you
another could never offer enough.
And now I'm so cold and naked and lonely
and praying for a change of heart,
hoping that one day you'll forget our ending
and dream up a brand new start.

Tonight I think, and think alone,
of all that I have done:
the friends I've loved, the smiles of joy,
the fact I've only just begun.
The summer is approaching now
and the snow is starting to thaw,
I no longer feel the bitterness felt
when you walked out my door.

First thing that popped into my mind was the song "Diggin' Up Bones" by Randy Travis.

Now for something more serious and focused. The photographs and poems built a very needed bridge to the past. When the past which starts out as a "winter of discontent" is reached, examined, and dealt with, some type of mental, emotional, and/or spiritual healing takes place and our character can move into the life and future before him like "silver white winters that melt into spring."

Stanza 6 grabs me as Paul after he lost Linda, but he can never truly have her back. The hope at the end of the stanza isn't to be for dear Paul. Really, now that I look back and reflect, much more of the poem could be used with the Paul and Linda analogy.

In stanza 3, the image of fading photographs and scraps of paper complement and enhance the character's sense that his words no longer have the bright, vivid, stereoscopic brilliance they once had.

The second half of stanza 4 makes me think of the scene in "Mary Poppins" when the rain begins to wash away Burt's chalk drawing on the sidewalk.

27 September 2013
9.04pm
Ahhh Girl
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Gerell said
I remember posting on this thread =o. Anyways, I wrote a couple of poems to audition for my school's paper (it's been a long time) here are what I've come up with. They are actually posted on-line on another website. You can either click the links or check the spoiler below.

http://expertscolumn.com/content/sonnets

http://expertscolumn.com/conte…..ting-poems

http://expertscolumn.com/conte…..tles-poems

Some of them are partially inspired by the Beatles.

What a delight your poems are! After reading "I Me Mine" and "My Music", I got really happy that you are going to get to go to see Paul in concert. I know you will have a wonderful time.
1 August 2014
2.03pm
Ahhh Girl
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From page 2

GniknuS said

I want to write one about the Beatles Bible and how it differs from other sites, so here's one Johnny and the Moondogs on the spot. I'm a cheesy writer so I apologize in advance…a-hard-days-night-george-10

From the four corners we gather,
these words planning their escape from my head.
We walk the streets unnoticed,
the spindle weaving life upon this thread. (puns are fun)

What seperates this engaging site;
this one from all the rest?
The tangles of confusion leaves a Internet divided,
those simply arguing at their own behest.

Masks of persuasiveness are most certainly donned,
perhaps how we would like to be shown?
For every Mr. Big claiming his rightful prowess,
leaves a hint of deception not fully known.

Then how lucky I am to have found you!
I was just so fully entwined.
Like the slaying of a dragon or some miraculous feat,
the type of search that leaves most resigned.

So the gratitude is quietly flowing,
the drain unplugged as it washes over the floor.
Keeping my spirits high with a quip or a post,
Oh Beatles Bible sounding board!

So here's to you that have listened,
when my heart was in need of amends.
The web would undoubtedly be a much happier place,
filled with a thousand like mithveaens!

@Joe's site has been loved for many years. I hope some of the former users check back in with us one of these days.

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1 August 2014
3.31pm
Mr. Kite
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a-hard-days-night-ringo-8 That was nice. We need a good poet current 'pudlian to do an updated version.

If I spoke prose you'd all find out, I don't know what I talk about.

Can buy Joe love! If you're shopping at one of these two websites use the links below to support the Beatles Bible: Amazon | iTunes
2 August 2014
1.36am
Zig
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Gnik was incredibly cool (probably still is). His avatar, which we christened The HMS Chicka Ferdy, is one of the best. Nice find, AG.

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Ahhh Girl

To the fountain of perpetual mirth, Let it roll for all its worth.

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