This is a group in which to post poetry that you have written yourself. It may be long or short, polished or rough, a celebration or an experiment. It is not a competition, more a place where we can share and appreciate and learn from each other and discuss each other's poems.
The poems are grouped into "discussions". Each discussion may be a theme or a poetry form. Each discussion can grow into a little collection. Add individual poems as "Comments" within the appropriate section. You can also add remarks as comments too. If there is no appropriate section, start a new one. If you feel clumsy doing this, don't worry - the site moderator will tidy it up later. Poems added should be broadly connected with the theme title of the discussion, but do not have to relate directly to other poems already posted.
Writing poetry can be everything from a light amusement through to a deep spiritual practice. Enjoy.
A finger pointing at the sky.Do you know the reason why?Do you want to live or die?Do you hear the people cry?When they come to sing “Hallelujah!”,riding in the voodoo Sin Street car,waves come crashing on the harbour bar,you’ll be swinging on the Polar Star.Clouds unfolding bring the winter rain,while you pay and work and pay againfor a ticket on the one way trainto the sweet land where you can remain.See, the angel standing by the doorputs down the sword and will make war no more;there’s a…Continue
This is a place for posting haiku.A haiku is a 17 syllable poem, generally consisting of three lines with 5-7-5 syllables respectively. Normally the final line gives a twist or "turn" to the meaning or makes a reference to the season of the year. Traditionally, in Japan, haiku were often about the moon, clouds, cherry blossom, the wonders of nature, especially anything beautiful yet…Continue
Waking from drug sleep tangled night,sahara mind extending to incognitaripples round a fire still burningat the back behind the ears;flames curl over the scalp,here and there explodingpointlessly, above my eyeor inside the ear.My teeth feel as if they are about to depart.I do not have the energy to weep.A cup of tea, English solace,and caresses from the cat.Is it time to take another pill yet?I string my lament on a chain of prayer,some steadinessmid of the sulphurous storm,no end in sight.Continue
The friendly teller of healing talesholds out a hand, hoists the sails,temptation is a tender touch,take a slice, but not too much.Sages, ages, pirates and souls,bananas and oranges, roasting hot coals,wear your best, the tangerine,say it soft, but say what you mean,the mean won’t go hungry,the generous shall eat,we’ll ride on the seas,attire the fleet!Pull up the anchor and sail on the mainand you shall have apples all over again:essence of pearl, lacy or cruel,the monkey is washing his…Continue
Today's snow covers yesterdays tracks. Success or failure, triumph or wreck.The waning moon shall later wax.Time continues her endless trek.We who follow or go aheadmake war and peace, then rest and sigh.We have no time to bury the dead,the undertakers too shall die.Yet over all still shines the sun,turning ice to glorious jewel,and all the ventures we’ve begunshall end in love and never be cruel.The snow has covered the tracks of oldand made a wonderland from dross.My heart is warm, be it ever…Continue
Darkness every which way,But not because the streetlampsAre out in town;Heedless feet they stray --Despite the path clearly laid,The blinds are down;Shutters closed to the lightCast the world into shadowAnd none can see;Amitabha rising,Buddha of Pure Land Bliss,What fools are we?Compassion every which way,Though not of our deserving,Shines on us;Takes those feet that stray,And sets them on that pathCalled Joy and Trust;Shutters are swung open,Light so dazzling bright floods in,The shadows…Continue
This is a place for posting renku.Renku is a Japanese poetic form with five lines with syllables 5-7-5-7-7. You will note that the first three constitute a haiku, so you can say a renku is a haiku with two extra lines.Here is an example that I wrote this morningIn the unknown nightmy soul is busy weavinga new day’s garmentto protect me from the galethat ever seeks to enterContinue
Life could be a poem if it rhymedor the metre was predictable insteadof random interference going onamidst the buzzing of the insects in my head.Life could be a song all full of joyif its cadences were rising all on cue;if the lyrics, though repeating, harmonisedand we wisely followed all the truth we knew.Life could be a hymn to peace and gloryfull of images of heaven here on earthas ecstatic prophets reveled in their storyand war and dread were only tropes of mirth.Yes, life could be a prayer…Continue
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