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 Post subject: Share Poetry / Poems
PostPosted: Mon Sep 08, 2014 2:57 pm 
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Posts: 4
You live your life in endless confusion.
You dont know if it's real or you're caught up in illusion.

The things that happen seem to be hurting.
Happiness should not be like that, about that you're certain.

You sense your soul and something is missing.
You are being effected by continuous hissing.

Your thoughts and feelings have no direction.
You're being the witness of your own disconnection.

You take your time and start to ponder.
'Am I alive or dead?' is what you wonder.

All the wrongs and void flash in front of your eyes.
All this time you have been living with deceit and lies.

You wish that you hadn't took things for granted.
And that you realized this before so that you could have repented.

You put your hand on your heart and feel its beat.
You still have the chance to make things complete.

You raise your hands and implore the Supreme.
'Help me and guide me to the straight path, oh Rahman o Raheem'

You start to cry and praise the Lord.
For your state of Submission has been restored.


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 Post subject: Re: Share Your Favourite Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Tue Sep 09, 2014 6:34 pm 
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@Sweetflower87

Did you write these yourself? I especially like the first one.


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:51 pm 
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The World is Mine

Today upon a bus I saw
A girl of golden hair
In my heart wished that I
Was just as fair

When suddenly she rose to leave
I saw her hobble down the aisle
She had one leg and wore a crutch
But as she passed - a smile

Oh God, forgive me when I whine
I have two legs, the world is mine

I stopped to buy some candy
The lad who sold it had such charm
I spoke to him, he seemed so glad
If I were late, it'd do no harm

And as I left, he said to me
''Thank you, you've been so kind
It's nice to talk with folks like you
"You see," he said, "I'm blind"

Oh God, forgive me when I whine
I have two eyes, the world is mine

Later while walking down the street
I saw a child with eyes of blue
He stood and watched the others play
But he did not know what to do

I stopped a moment and then I said
"Why don't you join the others dear?"
He looked ahead without a word
And then I knew, he couldn't hear

Oh God, forgive me when I whine
I have two ears, the world is mine

With feet to take me where I'd go
With eyes to see the sunset's glow
With ears to hear what I'd know
Oh God, forgive me when I whine
I've been blessed indeed, the world is mine

Author: Grover C Gouber


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:52 pm 
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The Park Bench

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Under the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown
For the world was intent on dragging me down

And if that weren't enough, to ruin my day
A young boy approached me, all tired from play
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play
I faked a small smile and then shifted away

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose And declared with overacted surprise
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."

The weed before me was dying or dead
Not vibrant of colours: orange, yellow or red
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave
So I reached for the flower and said, "Just what I need."

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand
He held it mid-air, without reason or plan
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind

I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying person beneath an old willow tree
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me
And for all of those times, I myself had been blind
I vowed to appreciate every second that's mine

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
I smiled at the young boy with another weed in his hand
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man

Author: Cheryl Costello-Forshey


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:53 pm 
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The Eternal Ink

I dreamt I was in heaven
Where an angel kept God's book
The angel was writing so intently
I just had to take a look

It was not, at first, the writing
That made me stop and think
But the fluid in the bottle
That was marked 'Eternal Ink'

This ink was most amazing
Dark-black upon the blotter
But as it touched the parchment
It became as clear as water

The angel kept on writing
But as quickly as a wink
The words were disappearing
With that strange Eternal Ink

The angel took no notice
But kept writing on and on
Turning each page and filling them
Till all the space was gone

I thought the angel wrote to no avail
The efforts were so vain
For written were many pages
That would never be read again

As I watched on and I wondered
That this awesome sight was mine
I actually saw a word stay black
As it dried upon the line

The angel kept on writing
And I saw a look of satisfaction
At last there was some print to show
For all the earnest action

A line or two dried dark
And stayed as black as black could be
But strangely the next paragraph
Became invisible to see

The Book was getting fuller
The angel's records true
But most of it was blank
With just few words coming through

I knew there was some reason
But as hard as I could think
I couldn't grasp the significance
Of that Eternal Ink

The mystery burned within me
And I finally dared to ask
The angel to explain to me
Of the amazing task

And what I heard was frightful
As turned the angel's head
Looking directly at me
The angel eventually said

"I know you stand and wonder
At what my writing's worth
But God has told me to record
The lives of those on earth

The Book that I am filling,
Is an accurate account
Of every word and action
And to what they do amount

And since you have been watching,
I must tell you what is true
The details of my journal,
Are the strict accounts of you

God asked me to watch you
As each day you work and play
I see you as you go to Church
I see you as you pray

But I was told to document
Your life through all the week
I wrote when you were arrogant
I wrote when you were meek

I recorded all your attitudes
Whether they were good or bad
I was sorry that I had to write
The things that make God sad

So now I will tell the wonder
Of this Eternal Ink
As the reason for its mystery
Should make you stop and think

This Ink that God created
To help me keep my journal
Will only keep a record
Of things that are eternal

So much of life is wasted
On things that matter not
Far from all the searching
Of knowledge to be sought

I just keep writing faithfully
And let the ink do the rest
For it is able to decide
What's useless and what is best

And God ordained that as I write
Of all you do and say
Your deeds that count for nothing
Will just disappear away

When Books are opened someday
As sure as Heaven is true
God's Eternal Ink
Will tell what mattered to you

If you just lived to please yourself
The pages will be bare
And God will issue no reward
When you finally get there

In fact, you will be embarrassed
You will hang your head in shame
Because you did not give yourself
In love to God's Name

Yet maybe there will be a few
Recorded lines that stayed
Showing times you truly cared
Sincerely loved and prayed

But you will always wonder
As you enter Heaven's door
How much more glad you would be
If only you had done more

For I record as God sees
I don't stop to even think
Because the truth is always written
With God's Eternal Ink"

As I heard the angel's story
I fell down and I cried
For as yet I still was dreaming
I hadn't actually died

I said: "Oh angel, tell God
That as soon as I awake
I'll live my life for God
I'll do all for His sake

I'll give in full surrender
I'll do all He wants me to
I'll turn my back on self and sin
And whatever isn't true

Though the way seems long and rough
I promise to endure
I'm determined to pursue the things
That are Holy, clean and pure

With God as my Helper
I will win lost souls to thee
For I know they'll live with God
For all eternity

And that's what really matters
When my life on earth is gone
That I will stand before God
And hear Him say 'Well done'

For is it really worth it
As my life lies at the brink
And I realize God keeps books
With His Eternal Ink

Should all my life be focused
On things that turn to dust
From now on I'll serve God
I can, I will, I must!

I'm giving all to God
I now have seen the link
I saw an angel write my life
With God's Eternal Ink

Author: Craig F Pitts


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:54 pm 
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The Cookie Thief

A woman was waiting at the airport one night
With several long hours before her flight
She hunted for a book in the airport shop
Bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop

She was engrossed in her book, but happened to see
That the man beside her, as bold as could be
Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag between
Which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene

She read, munched cookies and watched the clock
As the ghastly cookie thief diminished her stock
She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by
And thought, "If I wasn't nice, I'd blacken his eye!"

With each cookie she took, he took one too
When only one was left, she wondered what he'd do
With a smile on his face and a nervous laugh
He took the last cookie and broke it in half

He offered her half and he ate the other
She snatched it from him and thought, "Oh brother,
This guy has some nerve, and he's also so rude
Why, he didn't even show any gratitude!"

She had never known when she had been so galled
And sighed with relief when her flight was called
She gathered her belongings and headed for the gate
Refusing to look at the thieving ingrate

She boarded the plane and sank in her seat
Then sought her book, which was almost complete
As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise
There was her bag of cookies in front of her eyes!

"If mine are here," she moaned with despair
"Then the others were his and he tried to share!"
Too late to apologize, she realized with grief
That she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief!

Author: Valerie Cox


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:55 pm 
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The Cold Within

Six men trapped by circumstances
In bleak and bitter cold
Each one possessed a stick of wood
Or so the story told

Their dying fire in need of logs
The first man held his back
For of the faces round the fire
He noticed one was black

The next man looking across the way
Saw one not of his Church
And couldn’t bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch

The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the wealthy and rich?

The rich man just sat back and wondered
Of all the wealth he had in store
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy shiftless poor

The black man’s face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white

The last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game

Their logs held tight in death’s still hands
Was proof of human sin
They didn’t die from the cold without
They died from the cold within

Author: James Patrick Kinney


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:55 pm 
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Painting the Picture

When my hair is thin and silvered
And my time of toil is through
When I've many years behind me
And ahead of me a few

I shall want to sit, I reckon
Sort of dreaming in the sun
And recall the roads I've traveled
And the many things I've done

I hope there will be no picture
That I'll hate to look upon
When the time to paint it better
Or to wipe it out is gone

I hope there will be no vision
Of a hasty word I said
That has left a trail of sorrow
Like a whip welt sore and red

And I hope my old age dreaming
Will bring back no bitter scene
Of a time when I was selfish,
Or a time when I was mean

When I'm getting old and feeble
And I'm far along life's way
I don't want to sit regretting
Any bygone yesterday

I am painting now the picture
That I'll want someday to see
I am filling in a canvas
That will soon come back to me

Though nothing great is on it
And though nothing there is fine
I shall want to look it over
When I'm old, and call it mine

So I do not dare to leave it
While the paint is warm and wet
With a single thing upon it
That I later will regret

Author: Edwin W Truesdell


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:56 pm 
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Operation Death

This is the tale of an average man
Who acts contrary to God's plan
If you reflect from within
Then repent today and commit no sin

It was early in the morning at four
When death knocked upon a bedroom door
"Who is there?" the sleeping one cried
I'm Israel let me inside

At once, the man began to shiver
As one sweating in deadly fever
He shouted to his sleeping wife
"Don't let him take away my life."

"Please go away, Oh Angel of Death
I'm not ready to go yet
My family, on me depend
Give me a chance to go back and amend

The angel knocked again and again
"My friend, I'll take your life without pain
It's your soul that God requires
I come not with my own desires

Bewildered, the man began to cry
"Oh Angel, I'm afraid to die
I'll give you gold and be your slave
Don't send me to the unlit grave

"Let me in", the angel said
"Open the door, and up from your bed
If you do not allow me in
I will walk through it, like a Jinn

The man held a gun in his right hand
Ready to defy the Angel's stand
"I'll point my gun towards your head
You dare come in - I'll shoot you dead

By now, the Angel was in the room
"My friend, now prepare for your doom
Foolish man, Angels don't die
Put down your gun, no need to sigh."

"Why are you so afraid Oh man
To die according to God's plan?
Come, smile at me, do not be grim
Be happy to return to him."

"Oh Angel, I bow my head in shame
I had time to remember God's name
From dawn 'til dusk, I made my wealth
Not even caring for my spiritual health."

" God's commands I never obeyed,
Nor sincerely I ever prayed
A Ramadan came and Ramadan went
But no time had I to repent."

All charities I did ignore
Taking usury more and more."
"Sometimes I sipped my favorite wine,
With flirting women I sat to dine.

Oh angel, I appeal to you
Spare my life for a year or two."
"The laws of the Qur'an, I will obey
I'll begin prayer - this very day

My Fast and Hajj I will complete
And keep away from self-conceit."
"I will refrain from usury
And give my wealth to charity

Wine and evil, I will detest
God's oneness I will attest."
We Angels do what God demands
We cannot go against His plans

Death is ordained for everyone
Father, mother, daughter and son."
"I'm afraid, this moment is your last
Now be reminded of your past.

I do understand of your fears
But it is now too late to shed tears."
"You lived in this world, for decades and more
Never did you, your people adore

Your parents you did not obey
Hungry beggars, you turned away."
"Your two ill-gotten, female offspring
In nightclubs, for livelihood they sing

Breaking promises all your life
Backbiting friends and causing strife."
"From hoarded goods, great profits you made
And your poor workers - you underpaid.

Horses and cards were your leisure
Money-making was your pleasure."
A pint of blood, you never gave
which could a little baby save."

The ending however is very sad
Eventually, the man became mad
With a cry, he jumped out of his bed
And with that he just fell down dead.

Oh! Reader take a moral from here
You never know, your end may be near.
Change your living and make amends
For Heaven, on your deeds depend.

Author: G H E Hanker


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 Post subject: Re: Post Poems / Poetry
PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2017 5:57 pm 
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Heaven's Phone Number

Mummy went to Heaven
But I need her here today
My tummy hurts and I fell down
I need her right away

Operator can you tell me how
To find her in this book?
Is Heaven in the yellow part?
I don't know where to look

I think my daddy needs her too
At night I hear him cry
I hear him call her name sometimes
But I really don't know why

Maybe if I call her
She will hurry home to me
Is Heaven very far away?
Is it across the sea?

She's been gone a long, long time
She needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her
I simply don't know how

Help me find the number please
Is it listed under 'Heaven'?
I can't read these big big words
I am only seven

I am sorry operator
I didn't mean to make you cry
Is your tummy hurting too?
Or is there something in your eye?

If I call the local Church
Maybe they will know
Mummy said if we need help
That's where we should go

I have found their phone number
Tacked up on the wall
Thank you operator
I will give them a call


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