We need more FR Poet Laureates [Post an original poem and win a bun.]

September 18, 2003 | Me

[paulklenk]

Freepers,

Poetry is the soul of our hearts. We can converse, pontificate, and rally til the cows come home, but we really show our humanity, wit and truest selves in our poetry.

Doug From Upland is a fine example of such an artist. In his poems, we feel -- but we not only feel, we feel each other.

Let's show our true colors and show the world the Conservatives are not just lovers of freedom -- we're lovers of words, heart and feelings as well.

Post your original poem here. It need not rhyme. If you see a poem you like, vote for it by bumping it to the top. If you think you can do better, post a poem of your own.

Let's get the ball rolling with a poem of the silly variety -- remember, we don't have to be serious ALL the time. Here goes:

Plastic pie, plastic pie,
Shot a spastic in the eye.
Jesus heal'd that spastic's eye!
Pretty, pretty plastic pie!

Pretty, pretty plastic pie,
Much more fun than just plain pie!
Me oh my, oh why can't I
Have a pretty piece of pie?

[jellybean]

Now you've made me cry...

That's just as beautiful in a different way. Doesn't sound cynical at all to me.

[Fawnn]

A beautiful tribute.

[djf]

Funny that this thread got started last night. Last week I bumped into someone (the woman "Should I" was written for), and one of the first things she asked was if I had been writing.
So I stumbled around for a coupla daze, and finally two words popped into my head, after that it took me two hours. I emailed it to a few people, including a freeper, who described it at "remarkably sensitive, and palpably erotic"

The best thing I've written so far. I handed a printed copy of it last nite to the lady in question, and get home, and this thread had been started.
Odd sometimes how things work.

[b9]

*sigh*

[jellybean]

Odd sometimes how things work.

There are no coincidences...

[djf]

Since my wife passed, just disappointments.

[edwin hubble]

Agnes

Agnes... Your awesome sonnet!!!!

Whoah...what a gift..

(I love the Tantalus reference. )

This is indeed a wonderful work.

Please find a way to publish.
Much too good to be hidden under a bushel.

[edwin hubble]

Agnes

Agnes... Your awesome sonnet!!!!

Whoah...what a gift..

(I love the Tantalus reference. )

This is indeed a wonderful work.

Please find a way to publish.
Much too good to be hidden under a bushel.

[edwin hubble]

Agnes

Agnes... Your awesome sonnet!!!!

Whoah...what a gift..

(I love the Tantalus reference. )

This is indeed a wonderful work.

Please find a way to publish.
Much too good to be hidden under a bushel.

[edwin hubble]

Regret the multiple postings...

Many glitches here due to hurricane.

[paulklenk]

So what did you think of MY poem?

[djf]

Reminds me of the drinking games we played in college! ;-)

[paulklenk]

That's exactly the effect I was going for.

[djf]

I will take a bit of liberty and post a short story I wrote.
This is in fact based in reality, I did re-meet someone I knew twenty plus years ago, and did have the dream.

The New bed

A friend of mine told me about a dream he had a few days back.

Seems he had recently become re-aquainted with someone he had known many years before. He described her, and said he had been very fond of her, but I sensed it was quite a bit more, so I asked him about it.

In the dream, after all the years apart, they were living together, unmarried. Either they had just moved in, I'm not sure if it was a house or apartment, or there was something wrong with the bed they had, no matter, they had arranged to get a new bed.

Now I can't explain why we dream what we do, and my friend is sort of an oddball, but he said he was excited, because up to that time, they had been sleeping in the same bed, head-to-toe, one pillow at each end, and the new bed meant they could finally sleep like normal people.

The moving guys arrived, the old bed was taken down, and my friend and his lady decided to put the new bed against the east wall, so that the 5 AM early morning summer sun wouldn't wake them.

He tells what happens next:

"Late in the evening, after dinner, we finally went to bed. She had taken a bath, and the scent of her coconut shampoo filled the room, thick and heavy, it was delicious."
"She lay there to my right, with my arm around her, her head resting on my chest. She seemed uneasy, I sensed something in her, some kind of tenseness, or maybe reluctance, maybe she was unsure if we had done the right thing"

"I pulled her a little closer, then started talking, as softly as I could, for a minute or so at the most, about how I felt about her"
"She immediately relaxed, and a sense of peace came over her. I knew she was smiling. I bent down, kissed her on the top of her head, then I woke up, alone. My heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, I could still smell the coconut"

I looked over at my friend, he had a deep sadness to him. But I've seen him in a lot of circumstances, and he seemed to in some way be extremely happy about something. I couldn't decide if it was one or the other, then it hit me, it was both. He continued:

"And the saddest thing isn't the impossibility of the dream. When she heard what I said, she finally understood after all those years that my feelings didn't have anything to do with what was in me, nothing at all. My feelings were there because of what she had in her. She knows it would be impossible for me to walk or talk, or even take a breath, and not love her. It was a good thing. When she saw that, she surrendered, as totally and completely as I had surrendered to her all those years before. Whether it lasted a minute or an hour or a day or a lifetime didn't matter. It was a perfect moment"

"You're sounding pretty good there, maybe you should write some of this stuff down" I said.

"Neah, you're the writer type, not me. Words are usually a pretty poor substitute for real, true feelings. They're countefeit. Imitations. Don't measure up. But that night, in my dream they were right on the money."
"The saddest thing is that those words, those whispers full of life and love, laughter and lust are doomed to remain forever secret. Silently unspoken. And just like the smell of her hair, they're still in my head. Kinda a waste in some way"

He smiled.

"The hell with it, hey lets get a beer and shoot some pool..."

"OK", I said, and with that, my friends story of his dream ended. Just between you and me, if my pool game is on, he doesn't stand a chance. I didn't have the heart to tell him that nothing was probably ever gonna happen with his lady friend. But he's kinda like me, an honest guy, a little headstrung, but fair, and I know that even if his head could tell his heart not to have those feelings, he would never do it, because just like Shakespeare says, if our dreams don't exceed our grasp, what the hell's a heaven for, anyways?

POSTSCRIPT: I won six games, he won three, but I let him win two of em...


All Right Reserved

[jellybean]

Since my wife passed, just disappointments.

Everyone knows Disappointment. He's annoying and you can't get away from him. But if you stop and look past him, you'll see his sweet sister Hope. The light of her face will make Disappointment disappear.

[Squantos]

Peace and Grace
used to rule this place
and Angels guarded the door
now peace is dead
and the angels have fled
and grace has turned into a whore.........

Stay Safe !

[Wild Thing]

Your Poem For Grandma is wonderful Fawnn. I can remember how my Grandpa was like this when my Grandmama had passed away. Thank you!

Wild Thing

[Wild Thing]

LOL I love the one about Bill Clinton. hahaha
Excellent!

Wild Thing

[Wild Thing]

Fawnn, these are both good. Thank you for sharing your writings , I love your poetry.

Wild Thing

[Fawnn]

Thanks -- for your kind words and for reading and commenting on my "stuff"! ;)