' Live-Poets Society ' – A Corner For Poetry

[BDANR]

38 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

 

What a perfectly wonderful testament to friendship and the bond you share.

Thank you Parker :)!

[BDANR]

This next one is a bit more somber than the last. As a warning to you all, I wrote this in the aftermath of the Orlando Nightclub shooting. If you're intimately connected with the tragedy or otherwise triggered by the events that occurred that night, please take care of yourself before and after this read.

 

 

To Orlando

 

When you danced, did it ever feel like the world just stops?

Did it seem effortless as you moved gracefully on the floor, or was dancing never easy for you to do?

Did dancing make the world seem lighter under your feet?

Or did it always feel so heavy, soles glued to the floor?

 

What was it like being under the spotlights basking in their glow?

Did the flashing lights make you feel as though all eyes were on you?

Maybe dancing was the only time you felt as beautiful as you were.

 

Can you remember when you first knew you were “different”?

A time when love was painless, and it felt safe to hold hands and be in your beloved’s arms?

Or a time when loving someone was a struggle, and you tried desperately to hold on?

Maybe love never felt right, and you numbed yourself from it all.

 

Would you tell me that one day “it gets better,” or would you tell me that the path is never smooth?

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Maybe it’s something in the middle.

Maybe there will be better days.

Days when the spotlights keep flashing, the runway is always ready, and the dancing never ends.

 

R.I.P. To My 49 Brothers and Sisters

[Mikiesboy]

9 hours ago, BDANR said:

This next one is a bit more somber than the last. As a warning to you all, I wrote this in the aftermath of the Orlando Nightclub shooting. If you're intimately connected with the tragedy or otherwise triggered by the events that occurred that night, please take care of yourself before and after this read.

 

 

 

To Orlando

 

When you danced, did it ever feel like the world just stops?

Did it seem effortless as you moved gracefully on the floor, or was dancing never easy for you to do?

Did dancing make the world seem lighter under your feet?

Or did it always feel so heavy, soles glued to the floor?

 

What was it like being under the spotlights basking in their glow?

Did the flashing lights make you feel as though all eyes were on you?

Maybe dancing was the only time you felt as beautiful as you were.

 

Can you remember when you first knew you were “different”?

A time when love was painless, and it felt safe to hold hands and be in your beloved’s arms?

Or a time when loving someone was a struggle, and you tried desperately to hold on?

Maybe love never felt right, and you numbed yourself from it all.

 

Would you tell me that one day “it gets better,” or would you tell me that the path is never smooth?

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Maybe it’s something in the middle.

Maybe there will be better days.

Days when the spotlights keep flashing, the runway is always ready, and the dancing never ends.

 

R.I.P. To My 49 Brothers and Sisters

Touching tribute to those who died that day. A tiny piece of us all did 

 

tim

[Parker Owens]

11 hours ago, BDANR said:

This next one is a bit more somber than the last. As a warning to you all, I wrote this in the aftermath of the Orlando Nightclub shooting. If you're intimately connected with the tragedy or otherwise triggered by the events that occurred that night, please take care of yourself before and after this read.

 

 

 

To Orlando

 

When you danced, did it ever feel like the world just stops?

Did it seem effortless as you moved gracefully on the floor, or was dancing never easy for you to do?

Did dancing make the world seem lighter under your feet?

Or did it always feel so heavy, soles glued to the floor?

 

What was it like being under the spotlights basking in their glow?

Did the flashing lights make you feel as though all eyes were on you?

Maybe dancing was the only time you felt as beautiful as you were.

 

Can you remember when you first knew you were “different”?

A time when love was painless, and it felt safe to hold hands and be in your beloved’s arms?

Or a time when loving someone was a struggle, and you tried desperately to hold on?

Maybe love never felt right, and you numbed yourself from it all.

 

Would you tell me that one day “it gets better,” or would you tell me that the path is never smooth?

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Maybe it’s something in the middle.

Maybe there will be better days.

Days when the spotlights keep flashing, the runway is always ready, and the dancing never ends.

 

R.I.P. To My 49 Brothers and Sisters

 

I loved the final two stanzas; you spoke with truth and wisdom. And I agree with tim. Beautifully done.

[MacGreg]

11 hours ago, BDANR said:

This next one is a bit more somber than the last. As a warning to you all, I wrote this in the aftermath of the Orlando Nightclub shooting. If you're intimately connected with the tragedy or otherwise triggered by the events that occurred that night, please take care of yourself before and after this read.

 

 

 

To Orlando

 

When you danced, did it ever feel like the world just stops?

Did it seem effortless as you moved gracefully on the floor, or was dancing never easy for you to do?

Did dancing make the world seem lighter under your feet?

Or did it always feel so heavy, soles glued to the floor?

 

What was it like being under the spotlights basking in their glow?

Did the flashing lights make you feel as though all eyes were on you?

Maybe dancing was the only time you felt as beautiful as you were.

 

Can you remember when you first knew you were “different”?

A time when love was painless, and it felt safe to hold hands and be in your beloved’s arms?

Or a time when loving someone was a struggle, and you tried desperately to hold on?

Maybe love never felt right, and you numbed yourself from it all.

 

Would you tell me that one day “it gets better,” or would you tell me that the path is never smooth?

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Maybe it’s something in the middle.

Maybe there will be better days.

Days when the spotlights keep flashing, the runway is always ready, and the dancing never ends.

 

R.I.P. To My 49 Brothers and Sisters

This tragedy was and continues to be our tragedy. You've written a poem that speaks to us all. I like the way you've used questions; this really pulls your poem in a personal direction. We seek answers that we will never get. This line in particular: 

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Thank you for sharing this with us. 

[asamvav111]

12 hours ago, BDANR said:

This next one is a bit more somber than the last. As a warning to you all, I wrote this in the aftermath of the Orlando Nightclub shooting. If you're intimately connected with the tragedy or otherwise triggered by the events that occurred that night, please take care of yourself before and after this read.

 

 

 

To Orlando

 

When you danced, did it ever feel like the world just stops?

Did it seem effortless as you moved gracefully on the floor, or was dancing never easy for you to do?

Did dancing make the world seem lighter under your feet?

Or did it always feel so heavy, soles glued to the floor?

 

What was it like being under the spotlights basking in their glow?

Did the flashing lights make you feel as though all eyes were on you?

Maybe dancing was the only time you felt as beautiful as you were.

 

Can you remember when you first knew you were “different”?

A time when love was painless, and it felt safe to hold hands and be in your beloved’s arms?

Or a time when loving someone was a struggle, and you tried desperately to hold on?

Maybe love never felt right, and you numbed yourself from it all.

 

Would you tell me that one day “it gets better,” or would you tell me that the path is never smooth?

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Maybe it’s something in the middle.

Maybe there will be better days.

Days when the spotlights keep flashing, the runway is always ready, and the dancing never ends.

 

R.I.P. To My 49 Brothers and Sisters

Very well-written. I like your style.

Thank you for sharing this with us. A worthy memorial we should never forget.

[asamvav111]

On 15/7/2017 at 2:50 PM, Aviana said:

Hi friends, 

Am a little bored so thought to write some n get freshen up

So here goes...(all r just my observations around me n oh my kid cousins have visited so a bit about them too )

 

Bathed by the rain

Clean and green,

Birds sing in delight

Bees admiring the scene

Grasshopper happily hops

Ants trails unseen!

(In the garden after rain)

 

Hiding in the closet

Peeking from behind the door,

Three naughty little musketeer,

Wants to drown their bore.

One jumping in the mud,

Others stealing chocolate cookies

Both escaping from the window,

They r no rookies.

One flying to the roof

Another swings in the tree branch

Last one pulled the sofa covers

Burying himself under cushion avalanche

Finally, the fight is over

Tired they walked up the stair

Rubbing their bloodshot eyes, 

Heading to bed, their last lair!

(About my three kid cousins)

 

The longing of my numb heart

Awakened, as I heard the whining

Of my cousins, when my aunt 

Changed their smudgy shirts 

N kissed their pouty cheeks

I sighed, a little sad, what a luxury,

Not everyone's been so lucky!!

(Non-rhyming) 

 

 

The darkness slowly creeps,

Awakening the moon to shine,

The star blinks at the days end

The night yawned back to duty, with a whine!!!

(End of the day)

 

All yesterday's scribbles...thought to share here

Very matured writing style. I would have just put those within brackets in headings. Looking forward to reading more of you. Please put this one in a collection so we may come back to it for our perusal. Thank you for sharing this.

[asamvav111]

On 7/7/2017 at 2:49 PM, Emi GS said:

Edit: Given some perfection to the poem with the suggestions of my favourite Ben.

 

As I can see I missed a lot while absent here on GA. As usual I'll catch, everything, eventually. I have almost five full pages to read and all. So be patient on me. And here is a poem for you guys from the the past events of my life, the situation which changed my entire life...

 

Never destined to be
Yet, was present there
Never avouched to be
Yet, witnessing the truth
Never meant to be
Yet, hurting the self

 

I stand there, stunned;
As their lovemaking
Breaks my heart

You know how much I like your understated beauty with no nonsense verse, so this may sound biased. But, I really liked this one. As I said before I get a different subcontinental flavour in your writing that is rare in GA, and as Mr. Benus had attested I am sure you understand how accomplished this verse actually sounds compared to your previous creations. We are finally seeing the artist hidden in you in your last few postings. Thank you for sharing these gems with us. Oh and Welcome Back. 

[Aviana]

2 hours ago, asamvav111 said:

Very matured writing style. I would have just put those within brackets in headings. Looking forward to reading more of you. Please put this one in a collection so we may come back to it for our perusal. Thank you for sharing this.

Thank u so much asamvav111...I was thinking of doing so...but wondered if anyone would read it if I repeat the same thing...but now that u said u wud like to...I 'll put it

Edited July 18, 2017 by Aviana

[BDANR]

14 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

Touching tribute to those who died that day. A tiny piece of us all did 

 

tim

 

Thank you Tim for your words.

 

12 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

 

I loved the final two stanzas; you spoke with truth and wisdom. And I agree with tim. Beautifully done.

 

Thank you Parker. I found myself in great desire for justice when I reached the end of my piece. An escape from the violence in a sort of queer utopia. Simultaneously, I also had to come to terms with how society is. It's not always pretty, but it's not entirely ruthless either. Thank you again.

[BDANR]

12 hours ago, MacGreg said:

This tragedy was and continues to be our tragedy. You've written a poem that speaks to us all. I like the way you've used questions; this really pulls your poem in a personal direction. We seek answers that we will never get. This line in particular: 

Is the road paved like a pearl white runway show or does the path look more like bleeding rainbows?

 

Thank you for sharing this with us. 

 

You're welcome MacGreg. I'm very glad to share. It's interesting that particular line grabbed your attention. This was the one line I had the most trouble with. I shared this piece with a poet friend of mine and I originally left out the "bleeding rainbows" line because I thought it had been too graphic or violent. But she asked to read my piece with that line included, and though she never told me, I think that was another way of her saying that I had no reason to censor that imagery. I'm already speaking about a very violent tragedy to begin with, what purpose did I have to sugarcoat it? Thank you for your feedback.

 

11 hours ago, asamvav111 said:

Very well-written. I like your style.

Thank you for sharing this with us. A worthy memorial we should never forget.

 

Thank you for your words asamvav111. I hope to share more with you all in the near future.

Edited July 19, 2017 by BDANR

[Parker Owens]

For anyone interested, the final Spice Rack poem posted today. You can see it here:  https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/spice-rack/16

 

 

[AC Benus]

3 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

For anyone interested, the final Spice Rack poem posted today. You can see it here:  https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/spice-rack/16

 

 

It's been a provocative set, Parker Well done  

[BDANR]

10 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

For anyone interested, the final Spice Rack poem posted today. You can see it here:  https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/spice-rack/16

 

 

Thanks for sharing! I'll be away from the internet for awhile, but I'd love to read your work soon :).

[asamvav111]

New poem:

 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/asamvav111/euphoria-and-other-poems/6

[AC Benus]

"It's a gift to feel things;

those who don't are only 

half-formed human beings." 

[Former Member]

1 minute ago, AC Benus said:

"It's a gift to feel things;

those who don't are only 

half-formed human beings." 

A few words can hold so much truth!!!

[Emi GS]

3 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

"It's a gift to feel things;

those who don't are only 

half-formed human beings." 

 

 My kinda thing. Half-human, such a wonderful concept. Very well told. Kinda sets a sad bad mood, but can be a heart warming in needy times. Just wonderful Ben.

 

[AC Benus]

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

 

Edited July 28, 2017 by AC Benus

[dughlas]

4 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

 

I take this entirely without the context you provide ... these words carry images from varied yet similiar plights. Ulysses wanting nothing more than to arrive home. Jason and his quest for the fleece. Pirates hunting treasure upon the Main. All seek for what is just beyond their grasp. And then I come to the last stanza and feel I've come to it too soon. As if there should be something more before it. But as I say I read it out of context. Don't know this will help or only frustrate.

[AC Benus]

19 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

 

I think I messed up the rhyme scheme.... I'll work on it 

[AC Benus]

2 minutes ago, dughlas said:

I take this entirely without the context you provide ... these words carry images from varied yet similiar plights. Ulysses wanting nothing more than to arrive home. Jason and his quest for the fleece. Pirates hunting treasure upon the Main. All seek for what is just beyond their grasp. And then I come to the last stanza and feel I've come to it too soon. As if there should be something more before it. But as I say I read it out of context. Don't know this will help or only frustrate.

This is good feedback, Dugh. An additional stanza might be good 

[BDANR]

14 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

 

I really like the theme of mythology here. The rhyme scheme is very interesting too. Despite speaking of death, something we all arguably fear at some point in our lives, the speaker expresses their openness to experiencing it for a worthy cause.

 

Very good AC :).

[BDANR]

38 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

Admittedly, I'm not a very good critic :/.

[Mikiesboy]

53 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Working on a poem for chapter 7 of Mojo... Any thoughts on this one? Kohl is standing at the rail of a boat, looking out over the Pacific.

 

 

Homer spoke of the wine-red sea,

and of tempest-tossed Ulysses,

but on The Main, success or naught,

criminal or saint must feel free.

           

Its glassy eye broods on but one thought –

wants each and every Argonaut

to be his own mortality

and seek no more for what is sought.

           

Thus, poet or simple sailor,

to the shroud The Deep One's tailor

when our final hour is aught

and the salt of our blood flows to Her

 

 

 

 

my god AC.. moving, beautiful, powerful.. but too short.. omg it's amazing. xoxoox