I Chop Some Parsley While Listening To Art Blakey's Version of "Three Blind Mice" And I start wondering how they came to be blind. If it was congenital, they could be brothers and sister, and I think of the poor mother brooding over her sightless young triplets. Or was it a common accident, all three caught in a searing explosion, a firework perhaps? If not, if each came to his or her blindness separately, how did they ever manage to find one another? Would it not be difficult for a blind mouse to locate even one fellow mouse with vision let alone two other blind ones? And how, in their tiny darkness, could they possibly have run after a farmer's wife or anyone else's wife for that matter? Not to mention why. Just so she could cut off their tails with a carving knife, is the cynic's answer, but the thought of them without eyes and now without tails to trail through the moist grass or slip around the corner of a baseboard has the cynic who always lounges within me up off his couch and at the window trying to hide the rising softness that he feels. By now I am on to dicing an onion which might account for the wet stinging in my own eyes, though Freddie Hubbard's mournful trumpet on "Blue Moon," which happens to be the next cut, cannot be said to be making matters any better. Billy Collins I Chop Some Parsley While Listening To Art Blakey's Version of "Three Blind Mice by Billy Collins I like this poem because it is funny and makes me laugh especially this line ‘And I start wondering how they came to be blind.’ Because my imagination starts going wild wondering how these three mice came to be blind. The poet brings up a very good point in the verse ‘how did they ever manage to find one another?, Would it not be difficult for a blind mouse to locate even one fellow mouse with vision let alone two other blind ones?’ The poem itself is nice because it doesn’t have a pattern and I also like the way the poet discusses it almost. I love the way it gets me thinking about the three blind mice and how they actually came to be and the lines ‘has the cynic who always lounges within me up off his couch and at the window trying to hide the rising softness that he feels.’ Really does to me have represent my feelings when I think of those poor mice unable to see and now have no tails ‘to run through the moist grass or slip around the corner of a baseboard’ . It just breaks my heart. Now whenever I read this poem or here the rhyme ‘three blind mice’ I actually wonder how the mice came to be blind and not just laugh at the thought of seeing someone being chased by three blind mice. By Billy Collins I really love this poem!
This thread was actually created for self written poetry. I'm not sure but I think there is one for favorite poetry or lyrics around somewhere. Maybe one of the mods can dig it up?
I did some too. The lonely wandering In this world reached its end The union of two souls Eternal bonding From here on together On all life's roads. **** Captured in silence Lost beyond imagening Wandered a soul Once united with another Both can now live as one **** As an endless burning candle You led me through the darkness As an endless burning candle You lightened up my heart **** Beyond now lies forever And in forever we shall live
Yeah. They are just some mind drabbles I did as I was thinking about what little poem to put on the wedding card next year. Still nothing but at least the poems I came up with are good.!
Sell Out You laughed when you were indie, said you'd never sell out Now the man from the record company wants to know what that's about He hands you the pre-written song You put on the logo shirt He says 'be in a commercial' 'Hey,what'll it hurt?' Now you're crusing through the city You're seeing all the sights All the punks that ever made you are lost behind the crowd The ghetto you were raised in disappears in the lights Your friends are laughing at you They call you a sell out But you think you're still gangster Needing money for your bail out But your brothers are in the cell block The others are so shunned Society doesn't want them But you're their golden son You say you thank God For what he made and what he gave you Then you turn right around and tell him that you hate him You're telling the little children to keep themselves off drugs Then you spin back around with your nose caked in powder You're a hypocrite You're a sell out And we're tired of listenin' to it Stop playing like you're a gangster Try again? Maybe later. This is why dorky, white kids shoudn't write rap songs, but I was sick of stupid people so I wrote it anyway.
Wrote something. Uhm - dunno. Feedback welcome . Special moments Can´t reach my senses Never felt so odd Hope´s close to escape Uncertainty takes over control Whirlwinds of feelings confuse my soul Desire´s riding rolercoaster as you prepare to go I guess when sympathy developes nothing stays left, but one strange cold I´m not scared of challenges Let´s just leave what comes to chance, because beyond such special moments friendships tend to end
Wow! great poem Detective Burn I wrote this one up yesterday.. it's about the children and their families in varuios wars all around the world.. :- These people are walking a lonely road. abandoned and haunted streets, no sun, but only black clouds that cast such a dark shadow. Families that were once happy, are now broken, faith has abandoned thier souls, and you can hear screams of pain and agony. The grass is burnt, the trees are black, this nightmare has now started, there is no turning back. All those broken children, thier souls can never be repaired, but in time there lives would not be spared. No-one can wipe away the scars that cannot be healed, all those souls dying in a deathly battle field. Look deeper into those tragic affiars, cry all those tears that are from blood, they try to remeber, but they cannot forget. . The innocent children look at their selves in the mirror, and they cant begin to describe what they see, they keep thinking to thier selves 'why can't someone else be me?' The mothers go to sleep with thier children in thier hands, all those killing and slaughtering, leaving thier home a broken and empty piece of land.. You've seen it all, floods of pain, fires of hate, they cannot predict the future, and they can't predict their fate. They hope for a day that the sea would be like crystal, that the sun would be shining, and the grass would be green, but with all the murdering and killing, can you imagine such a scene? Sorry it's long I hope you like it
I wrote these a lot of years ago when my life wasn't going that great for me. I have written more poems in my own language though. Things I want most A hand on my shoulder A shoulder to cry on A cry with somebody Somebody to ask me along Along with somebody else A spotlight on me Me in the picture A picture with not me alone Alone... Not what I want I want to be happy Happy is salvation Salvation is what I need Manipulation I didn't have much fait, I felt like I was bait. People could manipulate, That turned me into a pile of hate. Now, I am strong, I know when someone is wrong. I am letting people go, The ones I used to know. I am in control, I am not a doll. Fights Big fights, fought everyday. Without a reason, my mind is carried away. To a place, no one can describe. It’s in my head, but goes through my eyes. Can’t get it out, but I don’t want it to. It’s only a feeling, and only a thought. Tomorrow can be different, or the same. What will the future bring, I can’t tell.
This is a poem that a friend of mine wrote today i caught a dragonfly, hoping we could spend the day. i cupped him in my hands, making sure he wouldnt get away. he began to squirm, he tickled at my palm. i grabbed his wings, holding him 'til calm. today i caught a dragonfly, and yanked off his little wing. i thought it was fun, making him a flightless little thing. i was so witty, i was so clever. he was mine, we could do whatever. today i caught a dragon, for he can no longer fly. he sits in my palm and doesnt move, i think hes going to die. selfish, selfish, controlling, destructive, stupid little me. dragon hunting seemed like such fun, but now i'll disagree. It makes me sad
This is poem that I wrote one day while sick: I’m dying here! I’m dying here can’t you see A mere shadow of the former me I’ve gonna get cardiac arrest But all mum says is “have a rest” I think I might have consumption I think that’s a pretty good assumption My tummy hurts when I eat It hurts all over-from my head to my feet! My foreheads hotter than the sun Don’t think I’m having any fun If I sneeze I might have a stroke When I cough I may choke! My nose is big shiny and red It’s no wonder I’m nearly dead I better begin to write my will And have another pain killing pill This is really making me sad And I feel real bad I look and feel like death Another second of my life is taken each breath I’m never live until I’m very, very old Mum says" Nonsense darling you’ve only got a cold"
Haha! This is what my mate Kitty wrote AA T You’re up a creek without a paddle Your brains must have been quite addled You kissed that b**** and made me cry And then decided it was best to lie Stupid boy you are quite daft, Now I’m having the last laugh! Now you sit tied to a chair I’ve lit a fire in your hair You can’t sweet-talk without your toungue And can’t draw breath without your lungs Slice off your balls with a rusty spoon They tell me you’ll stop screaming soon Jab a spork right through your eye Slit your wrists and watch you die! Stupid boy I guess now you’ll see You never should have dared cross me!
Feedback requested Something Unspoken I want you to remember friendship´s like an awfull mixtape. I want you to surrender. You know I´m not as straight as I was yesterday. And I want you to remain. Impulse-questions are too weak to devastate. I refuse not to complain. Sometimes invitations show what should not be hidden. Because - only by the way: Actually affection´s just one of bastxxx´s a.k.a.´s. The chemicals within us. Ever watched smiles sparkle between us? We´re not the hollow-crew. We´re the dangerous-harmony ones. I don´t intend to harm. Why should we hurt each other? The chemicals between us. There´s no lonelier fate than missing someone already now, because all that will remain is me wondering how something unspoken can be at stake. (inspired by "The chemicals between us" by Bush)
So - sry for the double-post. Don´t want to harm anyone. Just have to share my thoughts. destination destiny Every seven days it´s important what I say. You´re really keen on blowing me away. So many rules block my search for light. Couple of rules deserve being denied. Vain attempts to focus on the good in life. Maybe a destination for us is hard to find. However we ought to give it a try in spite. Would give my all to proof it´s worse to fight. Maybe I´m pretending more than I should have. Can´t afford looking like I have superficial aims. Looking at it now again, I´m so dying to explain: Now way you could have known me as straight. I swear all I´m asking for is a fair chance. Honestly, if I were you: I would also hesitate. Can we make this something good? You think I´m not afraid to loose? Just in case you risk to let me choose: Here comes what I would do. It´s okay to care what gossip will say. Love or hate me, but I bet I know a way. Uncomfortable, but together we should sustain. Don´t expect me to grant a happy-end. Let´s trust in our great communicative-base and give control over to one test-date.