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Share your poems!! - I'll start....


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#11
chris4meg

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Come dance with me,
Right now.
Don’t question it
By asking how.
Grab a hold of my hand
And don’t let go.
There’s no telling where this dance will go.
This may lead us to our wedding bands.
Come dance with me
Right away
Do not let me go
Till the break of day.
For here is where I am supposed to stay.
We are meant for each other,
Can’t you see?
Come dance with me
Hold me tight
It was you who turned on the light.
How?
Doesn’t really matter as long as you know.
That it’s you who I think of night and day.
You chase all my cares away.
Come dance with me
And we’ll decide the pace.
Between our two hearts there is no space.
And I know that this isn’t a race.
Thinking of you makes me free.
I no longer feel blue.
How I wish that we were already two.
A couple is what I long to be.
I am waiting for that hopeful day.
Every night I pray
That faith will work in our favor.
You know I will savor
Every precious memory we will make
I will never break
Your heart.
Come dance with me
Despite the time apart.
Cuz you know
You’re always in my heart.
Come dance with me
For the rest of our lives
I want to be
In your arms from here to eternity.
This I do believe
That if you
Come dance with me
I’ll be
The luckiest person there ever could be.
Please know that I will always love you.

By Chrissie C.

#12
meximom

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Tears streaming down my face
Hiding the light
That comes from your smile.


I have more but I need my binder. I've been writing since elementary school but haven't taken it serious since hight school. I haven't gotten brave enough to do readings yet.

#13
crazyfool

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my imagination is a drawn out animation which opens my eyes yet darkens the skies. it takes me to a place outside space where the world simply dies. i could stay here for years, where i have no fears, and i would never cry and my dreams would never die. but, this world is not true. the alarm sounds and my time is due. i awake with a fright to a bewildering life where my heart is pierced by an intangible knife. where love is made a truth fades so all you see is lies. i sit and i wish that time would fly but all it has done was crawl by. i want to return to covered eyes, darkened skies, my sweet lullabies and my imagination.

#14
sarah plain and? average

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I have lifted my heart up to you. It is a globe of glass,
inside of which are many shattered stars.
Look! They are burning inside of their sphere.
I am sorry if the light overwhelms you. They are bright.
But it is the only way I know
to overcome the barrier that stands between you and I.
You who cannot imagine
some of the things I know as normal,
and I, so far from your world.
Will you accept it then, although it is not pleasant?
I know it is not the gift you were looking for. It is so ugly.
But I could not have found it in a more beautiful place.
I would have wrapped it for you,
but the skin slipped away and would not stick.
I am sorry. I want to tell you that there is beauty, and grace, and power in it,
but will let you make of it what you want.
After all it is a gift, and I can not tell you how to receive it.
Someday, I will hold it up for all the world to see
and it will be beautiful.
The stars will have mended, and the light they give
will no longer be shocking and erratic.
I will hold up a heart that glows with wisdom, power, grace and beauty—
but most of all—hope. And everyone will see these things
which you must search for in these shattered stars burning.
Please accept this gift, and may you see, in it, a little of yourself.
"...tell me what is it you plan to do with your one most wild and precious life?" ---Mary Oliver

#15
sarah plain and? average

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Learning to Live

dedicated to my friend and mentor, Ms Laurie, who is constantly throwing flowers to people :-)
I sat inside my wall, safe and secure from all those people “out there” who would hurt me if they got the chance. My wall kept me safe. My wall allowed no one to get close to me, no one to touch me, and no one to see the real me. My wall was beautiful, it hid my ugliness. And, for these reasons, I loved my wall. I had spent over half my life constructing my wall, had used only the choicest materials, and worked hard to make sure that not one crack was left open. My wall was perfect.
A large boulder, which was the centerpiece of my wall was denial. Often, I forgot that it was there, but it stayed strong and never let me down. This rock was old and weathered and held onto the many thoughts and feelings that I fed it on a daily basis. I truly cherished this rock. Next to the boulder was a large stone called rationalization. This was another of my favorite rocks. With this rock, I could make anything seem right and just. On the other side of denial was one whose name was withdrawing—using it, I could escape from anything. Another important rock was minimizing, and next to it was one called self-victimization. But perhaps my greatest treasure was an eyesore I called pain. This was a large, hideous rock that made up the area framing all the other rocks. It stood there, effectively, for all the world to see. This rock was one of the most important stones in my wall because it warded off many of the people who tried to approach me as I sat behind my wall. Denial though, again took precedence. It was the most important part of my wall, as it made up the mortar which allowed my wall to stay together. In fact my entire wall was fraught with denial. As I said, I had taken years to build this wall, and it protected me from the world and cushioned me from all reality. I loved my wall. No one could approach me. No one could get close. I would die here, behind my wall, as I had lived behind it.
Then one day, as I was sitting secure behind my wall, something very strange happened. I heard someone pass very near to my wall. I couldn’t see who it was, but I heard the footsteps stop outside my wall, and a flower was thrown over my wall and fell at my feet… a delicate, fragile, single blossom. At first I was frightened by it—beauty was not part of my wall, nor my life—but I was curious. I picked it up and looked at it in awe. It was so beautiful. It was perfect. I had to know. Hesitantly I whispered and asked who had thrown the flower over my wall. I doubted anyone would hear, and felt some safety in that fact, so was surprised when a voice replied, “A friend.” “I have no friend,” I replied, and was happy again for my wall, for there was that stone of intellectualizing that allowed me not to be deceived by this person. Then I heard a strange noise—it was weeping. The stranger outside of my wall was crying. This time I called out a little louder and asked the stranger why she cried, and she answered, “Because I care.” She said she would like to breach my wall and come close to me, but I would not allow this. I asked her, “Why don’t you run from my pain?” and she answered that she wanted to help, that my pain did not make her afraid. I wondered, as the weeping persisted, if she really did care. I thought—perhaps this person would not hurt me, perhaps I could allow her to come a little bit closer and not suffer any ill will.
As I considered this person’s motives, the crying continued. Why, I thought, am I so important to her, and why is she so important that I am even considering dismantling my wall? And again I turned to my wall—this time to the stone of doubt. As I caressed this well-worn rock, I began to doubt not only her, but myself as well. Maybe this stranger will hurt me, but can she hurt me more than I have already punished myself? I had never questioned the building of my wall… until now. Slowly, I let myself adjust to the idea that I was indeed inflicting upon myself the worst kind of pain. I realized how lonely I was, how miserable—with nothing to dwell on but past hurts. By building my wall, I had walled off all that was good as well as the bad. Maybe, I thought, I could just remove one tiny, insignificant pebble. Though I was terribly frightened, I pushed aside a small stone and left a fist-sized opening. To my amazement, the stranger outside of my wall put her hand through the hole in my wall and stood there asking nothing, expecting nothing, just an outstretched hand. I recoiled in fright, but the fear of aloneness (now that I knew companionship) was greater than my fear of this stranger, whom I was cautiously beginning to trust. Haltingly, hesitantly, I reached out and took hold of the stranger’s hand, and a very wondrous thing happened. I felt a warmth. I felt a vitality in the stranger’s hand that I had never known before. And we stood there, holding hands through the wall I had built around myself, and I thought… perhaps I can get close to this one person. So I told her, “If you will help me, we can remove some stones from my wall so that you may enter.” The stranger said she was happy to help. So carefully, fearfully I allowed the stranger to cast aside a few of the small stones until she had created a hole large enough for herself to fit through. She stepped inside my wall and said, “I want to help, I want to be your friend.” This stranger was within my wall. I was vulnerable… with no defenses.
I wrapped my arms around the stranger’s shoulders and I cried. At last I had discovered that I could allow another human to come close to me and I would not be injured or hurt. “If you will help me, we can push down some more of your wall,” my friend said, “then you can see the beauty that is outside.” I was very opposed to the idea, but after a little cajoling from my friend, we began to remove my rocks. Together we worked, sometimes slowly and others faster. I was still hesitant about removing my wall.
Finally the hole was large enough that I could look out at the world. I could see the beauty of the world for the first time, and for the first time, I was not frightened. I realized that this wall I had built to protect myself, had not only protected me, it had walled me off from all the beauty of life and the world around me.
I have wept many times at the destruction of my wall. There are parts of my wall still intact. Sometimes in moments of fright, I retreat behind what remains of my wall, but each time I shield myself from the world, I realize that I am cutting off all the world has to offer. The joy, the friendship, the caring. And each time, I tear down a little more of my wall.
I asked my friend, “How can I ever repay you for what you have given me,” and my friend answered, “I see another wall. Behind that wall is another stranger who needs a friend.” So now I pick a flower and toss it over someone else’s wall. I can only hope that I can repay some of what has been given to me. There is love, there is caring, and there is good and it is for all people. All you must do is open a little hole in your wall, and allow a stranger to help. And the world can be a wonderful place.
"...tell me what is it you plan to do with your one most wild and precious life?" ---Mary Oliver

#16
sarah plain and? average

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View Postsarah plain and? average, on 15 January 2012 - 06:31 PM, said:

I have lifted my heart up to you. It is a globe of glass,
inside of which are many shattered stars.
Look! They are burning inside of their sphere.
I am sorry if the light overwhelms you. They are bright.
But it is the only way I know
to overcome the barrier that stands between you and I.
You who cannot imagine
some of the things I know as normal,
and I, so far from your world.
Will you accept it then, although it is not pleasant?
I know it is not the gift you were looking for. It is so ugly.
But I could not have found it in a more beautiful place.
I would have wrapped it for you,
but the skin slipped away and would not stick.
I am sorry. I want to tell you that there is beauty, and grace, and power in it,
but will let you make of it what you want.
After all it is a gift, and I can not tell you how to receive it.
Someday, I will hold it up for all the world to see
and it will be beautiful.
The stars will have mended, and the light they give
will no longer be shocking and erratic.
I will hold up a heart that glows with wisdom, power, grace and beauty—
but most of all—hope. And everyone will see these things
which you must search for in these shattered stars burning.
Please accept this gift, and may you see, in it, a little of yourself.
by the way i forgot to add the title...its called Shattered Stars Burning, and was originally meant for my twin sister...who got all the "normal" genes. LOL
"...tell me what is it you plan to do with your one most wild and precious life?" ---Mary Oliver





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