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Marking time for youngster poets

make others confess
What they ought to profess
as does

you have given me
the spice of poetic life

now I don't silly ones compose
as in you alone confidence
I repose
I suppose

without your teaching me
could I have stood my way

my poetry now has legs
which carry it all the way

the credit goes to,
not divinity
but mainly to you
I must openly confess

Hope youngsters will read this
what I deem to profess
few are like you
poets on neopoet that's true
kick me still if will you


are you jess

author comment

i read ur sonnet
it was good
as i can't technically compose one
I hope the test it withstood
glad you dropped in too
Sir poet r u

author comment

Life’s sojourn

You are here
the poet of all times
light a candle
darkness vanishes

Keep moving about the train
your body is in equal equation
you become
a part of it in harmonic motion
then you can see
the blades of grass smiling

As the wind brushes thy face
on the moving train
your hair, if you have any
I have very little of it,
makes you feel the touch of glory

as the sojourn moves on
ere the end
when comes the dawn
you mourn
why did it have to dawn

How you wished you could move on
but dawns are as inevitable too
as sunsets become true

So you enjoy the train of life
if only you have
love and sadness
real dawn springs

Okay wake up
now ends your sojourn
let come another dawn
morn after morn
life’s sojourn goes on and on
and on

author comment

He is the sheperds dog that nips our heels
wayward we wander...oh how we love
our go too close too the
woods or sea...nibble the poison of
ideals......every platoon gruppe has
the foreman....As was my father..
who guided through the ferocity of
getting our attention to the main focus!!

I grew from ass kickers just like he
I speak of grooming and cars..but
before the put me behind the wheel
it was made very clear with much
butt kicking...squad captian drills
what I needed to focus on!!
Was not all the lubracious writing
I do......I never touched on how
i came to be...the abusive grandfather
uncles from world war two..happily
hustling and deeply disturbed..
Oh I countered them!!! what then?
I become like them..
and then learned to turn that
polarity switch..U can do it Stevie
said my believers..and I did...
we are not all born of purity
and light...
the world is not beautiful black
and white monochromes
but this slurry of lucid grey..
factions and policies
flaccid and turgid intelligence
There is so much more beyond
the gates of knowledges door!

but......we are poets..
we see...feel..blueprints
not even in our hands
sing songs given in dreams
brushed by elbows...
visions Im writing about here..
a direction

and the beauty of it..
is all about
as we haul our kit
and make our way
on chariots of creative
muse and construct!!

poets fall all about
but we have a voice
an important one

what is the value
who hones us?

a great poetic ponderance
why I remain steadfast true
to Neopoet!
our little troupe..our gruppe
our platoon....
for we know
that writing is the way
regardless of the crown
of gods or mortals...
(I wait for lightening at
we are just actors
creating beauty of
feeling and experience!

Thank U!

Mr Wolf!

we are not all born of purity
and light...

how true can one be
we are simply energy masses
hopefully trying to converse
in ways unique
you are the poet seeker
and speaker

Hence this blog for younger ones
to use their
many about
always show off
they are the
may be

But I always say
if you have a brain
then use it
else donate it along with your other precious tools

Be happy when they address you as the
Fool of Fools
use it or lose it
all's up to you

your guess

Thanx esker
and all others
who wish to contribute
theirs here

author comment
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