Poetry Corner

Started by AndyT, October 23, 2014, 02:19:35 PM

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Dyess

Not Here Anymore












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arpy1

this is for all of us who find getting our housework done such a trial:

Dust If You Must
by Rose Milligan

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust

Dutch Uncle


GettingThere

This is a poem I wrote when I was 16. I still say it to myself sometimes when I'm feeling really low. Hope it can help someone.

Rise

You will fly away on jaded wing
You will land on stars and start to sing
The praises of the scars that came
And left their mark, yet sparked no shame

You will plant your flag of severed parts
You will claim the land for shattered hearts
And then proclaim to each clean thing
You were carried by your jaded wing

Whobuddy

GettingThere,
That is beautiful and uplifting. Do you write much poetry now?

GettingThere

Hi Whobuddy :) Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I haven't written any poetry in the last few years, but I still write some short fiction and life writing from time to time.

V

I love all the poetry guys!!!

Here is one of my very favorites which i am sharing because I read this poem for the first time when I was 7 years old. I knew then that my family was dysfunctional - mainly my mother - who was trying so hard to beat me into the person she wanted me to be. I only wanted to be myself and I am good and loving. She was mean and hateful -  so I'm glad I read this and yes I totally understood it at that age - it was clear as a bell. I was on the right path age 7 - god saved me!

On Children
by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.


JohnnyBoy

Heres a poem well a poetic song if you will.
Its call "Excess Baggage" its by Staind and it was a "secret" song on their album Dysfunction.

"Well I know the words, but I cant really speak them
To you

And I hide all the pain, Ive gained with my wisdom
From you

And Im eaten alive by what I hold inside
All the things that I live with I cant easily hide
And Im left here with nothing, nothing to live for
But you


Its not easy to hide
All this damage inside
Ill carry you with me
Until im not alive

When you look at my face, does it seem just as ugly?
To you

I cant seem to erase all the scars i have lived with
From you

Im so sick of this place
This taste in my mouth
Cause of you I cant figure what Im all about
And Im left here with nothing nothing to live for
But you

Its not easy to hide
All this damage inside
Ill carry you with me
Until im not alive

Cat Glass

Little Girl (me)

Little girl, the love in my heart
take my hand as we walk into the dark
monsters we'll see, dragons we'll face
always remember you have a place
here with me

Dutch Uncle

 :thumbup:

And welcome, Cat Glass.  :hug:

Cat Glass


woodsgnome

#41
To the Sensitive Ones...by Jeff Foster

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqzN-vs4Adc&feature=em-subs_digest

TO THE SENSITIVE ONES...

Do not be ashamed of your sensitivity!
It has brought you many riches.

You see what others cannot see,
Feel what others are ashamed to feel.

You are more open, less numb.
You find it harder to turn a blind eye.
You have not closed your heart,
in spite of everything.

You are able to hold
the most intense highs
and the darkest lows
in your loving embrace.
(You know that neither define you.
Everything passes through.
You are a cosmic vessel.)

Celebrate your sensitivity!
It has kept you flexible and open.
You have remained close to wonder.
And awareness burns brightly in you.

Don't compare yourself with others.
Don't expect them to understand.
But teach them:
It's okay to feel, deeply.
It's okay to not know.
It's okay to play
on the raw edge of life.

Life may seem 'harder' for you at times,
And often you are close to overwhelm.
But it's harder still
to repress your overwhelming gifts.

Sensitive ones,
Bring some gentleness into this weary world!
Shine on with courageous sensitivity!
You are the light bearers!

GettingThere

Quote from: artemis23 on April 14, 2016, 08:46:51 PM
This is a practiced suffering, we are prepared.

This line so perfectly reflects how I feel as a person with CPTSD. Your writing is so wonderful Artemis!!

Dutch Uncle

On my way back home I just saw somebody with the following phrase on her bag:

The Earth without art is just "Eh".  :thumbup:

Chartery

Raising the Rent

I didn't know you were camping out in here
It seems you've been here for quite some time
Your voice isn't welcome here anymore
F**k off out of here, this space is mine

Your accusatory tone and blaming ways
Omnipresent in these sullen quarters
Your constant criticisms, teasing and torture no longer veiled
I'm through fawning to your disorders

The economy of my soul for ever at risk
Transactions more complicated than a bank
All profits and huge margins on this emotional one way street
Wired direct to your empty bottomless tank

I'm raising the rent in here
And it's going to be too high for your rage

There's rat poison behind everything in here
It's amazing anything survived at all
The toxicity perverting all but the bricks
And I think it's ready for the wrecking ball