Poetry
Is something I love to read
Is something I like to think about
and figure out
I like things that inspire me to think
to feel
I want so bad to be the person who writes the words
That inspires thinking and feeling
Can not find that part of me
So for now I’ll be the inspired
And not the inspiration
Acrostic Poem
Your Fly line flies
Anticipation Lingers
Your line tenses
The Fish struggles
Your heart Is racing
Sounds are instant
But silence Hugs you
In moments it will be over
Near is your story to tell…
Good grief I though he’d be bigger.
Cinquain
J.C
Indomitable, Pleasing
A man’s man
Free, Agreeable
Tranquil
If I ruled the world
People would do what they loved
No one would feel the pain of emptyness
No one would struggle with loneliness
Everyone would be loved
and they would love living.
I wish
The beautiful brown ducks
swimming
in the ice cold duck pond
would be
moved
somewhere warm.
5 Favorite Poems
Psalm 1
BOOK I : Psalms 1-41
1 Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
or stand in the way of sinners
or sit in the seat of mockers.
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.
4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
Psalm 23
A psalm of David.
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, [a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
Coward of the County Lyrics
Artist(Band):Kenny Rogers
Ev’ryone considered him the coward of the county.
He’d never stood one single time to prove the county wrong.
His mama named him Tommy, the folks just called him yellow,
But something always told me they were reading Tommy wrong.
He was only ten years old when his daddy died in prison.
I took care of Tommy ’cause he was my brother’s son.
I still recall the final words my brother said to Tommy:
“Son, my life is over, but yours has just begun.
Promise me, son, not to do the things I’ve done.
Walk away from trouble if you can.
Now it won’t mean you’re weak if you turn the other cheek.
I hope you’re old enough to understand:
Son, you don’t have to fight to be a man.”
There’s someone for ev’ryone and Tommy’s love was Becky.
In her arms he didn’t have to prove he was a man.
One day while he was workin’ the Gatlin boys came callin’.
They took turns at Becky…. n’ there were three of them!
Tommy opened up the door and saw his Becky cryin’.
The torn dress, the shattered look was more than he could stand.
He reached above the fireplace, took down his daddy’s picture.
As his tears fell on his daddy’s face, he heard these words again:
“Promise me, son, not to do the things I’ve done.
Walk away from trouble if you can.
Now it won’t mean you’re weak if you turn the other cheek.
I hope you’re old enough to understand:
Son, you don’t have to fight to be a man.”
The Gatlin boys just laughed at him when he walked into the barroom.
One of them got up ‘n met him halfway ‘cross the floor.
when Tommy turned around they said, “Hey look! ol’ yellow’s leavin’.”
But you coulda heard a pin drop when Tommy stopped and locked
the door.
Twenty years of crawlin’ was bottled up inside him.
He wasn’t holdin’ nothin’ back; he let ‘em have it all.
When Tommy left the barroom not a Gatlin boy was standin’.
He said, “This one’s for Becky,” as he watched the last one fall.
And I heard him say,
“I promised you, Dad, not to do the things you’ve done.
I’ll walk away from trouble when I can.
Now please don’t think I’m weak, I couldn’t turn the other cheek,
‘n Papa, I sure hope you understand:
Sometimes you gotta fight when you’re a man.”
Ev’ryone considered him the coward of the county.
BY MAY SWENSEN
Grown too big for his skin,
And it grown hard,
Without a sea and atmosphere-
He’s drunk it all up-
His strength’s inside him now,
But there’s no room to stretch.
He pecks at the top
But his beak’s too soft;
Thought instinct and ambition shoves,
He can’t get through.
Barely old enough to bleed
And already bruised!
In a case this tough
What’s the use
If you break your head
Instead of the lid?
Despair tempts him
To just go limp;
Maybe the cell’s
Already a tomb,
And beginning end
In this round room.
Still, stupidly he pecks
And pecks, as if from under
His own skull-
Yet makes no crack…
No crack until
He finally cracks,
And kicks and stomps.
What a thrill
And shock to feel
His little gaff poke
Through the floor!
A way he hadn’t known or meant.
Rage works if reason won’t.
When locked up, bear down.
Belief
by: D.H.Lawrence
Forever nameless
Forever unknown
Forever unconceived
Forever unrepresented
yet forever felt in the soul.
