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"Poetry corner"

The idea behind this place is that instead of starting your own thread with one poem they can all go in here instead.
Here is then, a place for your all your word's of beauty, anger, love, disappointment and anything else you care to add.

Ashman wrote:
> Woops, I didn't know all poems were supposed to go in one thread.

Ditto :D

The Old Man and his Ladder:

There was an old man who loved his old ladder.
He removed the stairs to climb it instead.
Old Betty, his wife, grew madder and madder
And went to the kitchen to bake some bread.

The old man was stubborn, he would not give in.
He liked his old ladder, not Old Betty’s bread.
He said it kept him fit, his waistline thin,
But poor Old Betty just wanted him dead.

Then one night, Old Betty got into a pickle,
She drunk too much tea, and had a weak bladder.
She rolled across the bed to the old man’s side,
And thought, “What the hell” and let it all trickle.
The old man awoke, his eyes open wide,
”I told you before, I’m not using that ladder!”

The old man sat up and put his hand through his hairs,
He turned to Old Betty with a sad looking face.
”I’ll get rid of that ladder, bring back the old stairs”
He then got out of bed to pack his old case.

“What are you doing?” Old Betty did cry,
“I’m moving out” he said, his eyes growing sadder.
She did not understand, and kept asking why.
“I’m an old man,” he said, “Who loves his old ladder.”

Betty insisted the “ladder can stay!”
But I need something else for going upstairs.
The Old Man smiled, his mind began to play,
“How about a lift instead of them stairs?”

The couple hugged and got the lift fully installed.
The neighbours thought they couldn’t get any madder.
Betty baked more bread, “It’s ready!” she called.
Down came the old man, who loved his old ladder.

Woops, I didn't know all poems were supposed to go in one thread. Considering the amount of other pants that fills some forums I think every poem or two is deserved of its own thread. Any how, here is mine:

********************************

Confused

I’m filled with resentment,
Yet I don’t know at whom.
I’m brimming with sorrow,
An absurd sense of doom.

I just lay here shaking,
But without a clue why.
The only thing I do,
Is lay here and cry.

I look fine in the flesh,
On the inside I’m torn.
My heart is shattered,
And my spirit forlorn.

I want to be happy,
I want not to care.
But whatever I do,
The pain is still there.

********************************

Expect more soon. :-)

Here's a few I entered in the National Poetry Anthology

Politics

Damned by dreams that emasculate, whichever thoughts grow fond
A ritual that once grew great, before the broken bonds
Elevated past darkened doubt. Tattooed by streetlight fraud
The taxman knocks, reasons without. Civilian levy duly stored
Forgetting sinful syntax, forging sentences of stealth
Intricately evading tax and procuring piles of wealth.
To save their seats politicians lie, give bribes they don’t resent
With starving hunger babies cry, whilst income tax is sorely spent
Witness wily officials in their Jaguars. Diamonds nested in wife’s ears
Then see taxpayers in economy cars. They saved for years and years
Will no one break the circle of lies and do the country a favour
Recall the day democracy died. The birthday of New Labour

Inner Monologue of a Teddy bear

I sit, angle poised, my beady eyes see all
Sulking in dust and waiting for my time to come
The gift that lived for a day before being abandoned on a high shelf
Never to be played with again
Devoid of love, my stitching intact
But I yearn to be battered and bruised though overuse
My stuffing doesn’t spill out at the seams as it rightfully should
It sits neatly inside me
My flimsily stitched limbs, attached
Not amiably dangling off, dog eared and sick stained
I’m not the comfort tool I wish to be, but a decorative prop
In the play known as life
Gift tag still sewn and neat
My fur is thick, not healthily worn away
I bear no scars nor marks of amusement that I beg for
I sit here, angle poised

The Ripper

Walking through the shadows with a serial-killer’s stride
Bearing razor rimmed blades to tear your chest open, wide
He slinks through darkened courtyards to lure young maidens fair
Into his den of death and vice, before he kills them there.
Beware his sullen steely gaze, he’ll cut you with a glance
Be cautious on your journeys as he’d kill with half a chance
You should fear his iron-tight grasp, which alone is said to kill
And hope upon hope tonight it isn’t your blood he’ll spill
He murders indiscriminately, as flesh he loves to tear
Although it has been rumoured, he prefers young maidens, fair
But he’ll kill anything; beast or man, or even a young nipper
Because he is a psychopath, his name is Jack the Ripper

Flockhart wrote:
> My Girl
>
> [I]My girl
> The one i adore
> The one i'd give my whole life for
> The only one i'm living for
> Is gone
Gone from sight
Gone in the night
left without a word of goodbye
>
> My girl
> The one i love
> The one who fit's me like a glove
> The one i'd lift high above
> she's gone
Gone and left
Left me bereft
Of heart and soul
>
> My Girl
> My other self
> The one i'd praise above all else
> Is gone
> But hope isnt gone
we all carry on

In lonliness we stand
together in one voice
saying we march forever forwards
as we have no other choice
>
> I know this is weak, but i posted it because i cant see myself using
> it.

An update for you all.

I've got a couple of poems on my site

[URL]http://climbingeverest.tripod.com/speakup/[/URL]

The boy I stalk. I know he had fleas, because I found some in his bed.

RoJ wrote:
> Fleas
>
> Adam
> Had 'em
>
>
> The End.
>
>
> Thank you very much.

omg i think that should be published but whos adam?

My Girl

My girl
The one i adore
The one i'd give my whole life for
The only one i'm living for
Is gone

My girl
The one i love
The one who fit's me like a glove
The one i'd lift high above
Is gone

My Girl
My other self
The one i'd praise above all else
Is gone
But hope isnt

I know this is weak, but i posted it because i cant see myself using it.

Fleas

Adam
Had 'em


The End.


Thank you very much.

The idea behind this place is that instead of starting your own thread with one poem they can all go in here instead.
Here is then, a place for your all your word's of beauty, anger, love, disappointment and anything else you care to add.