Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.


ground tremble
a stillness rushs
rising up like dust

fingers of amber
poised like jewels

discarded parties
and meaningless

chipped corners
and scarred forelegs

like rain limps
dream trips

archive scatter
the black velvet

the claws on cold
make good shivers
while a moon
sharp as a shiv
shines through
the torn curtian
bright as a sliver

Editing stage: 


Another great write I loved the pictures this brought to the eyes of the mind, like running through a picture gallery..
Yours Ian.T
The word rushs in line three is this a typo ?

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Maybe your heart is aching
I wouldn't know, now would I'
Maybe your spirit's breaking up
I shouldn't care, now should I'
Maybe you're thinking of me
Well I don't know, now do I'
If you only knew how I feel
Wish I could die, now don't I'
I'm just another crazy guy
Playing at love was another high
Just another high
Couldn't believe in my eyes
You drifted into my life
But marriages made in heaven
Can they survive in this life'
Surely it came as no surprise
Love was too hot to handle
Well I really blew my cool and you
You just blew out the candle
Didn't you just try just another high'
Didn't you sign as you waved goodbye'
Just another high
I'm just another crazy guy
Playing at love was another high
Such a crazy high
Lately it seems so empty here
But I suppose I'm alright
Maybe tomorrow's not so clear
Still I remember that night
Singing to you like this is
My only way to reach you
Though I'm too proud to say it
Oh how I long too see you
Shattered by dreams, by your goodbye
As shattered my goodbye, as filled the sky
Desolate am I
Just another crazy guy
Playing at love was another high
Such a crazy high
Maybe I should start anew
And maybe I should find someone who
Will maybe love me like I love you
Maybe I'm too stuck on you

archive scatter
the black velvet

get well soon


we should be etched
your the reason we can exhale
thankyou for being a magnificent father
however tethered
she swells with each nuance
you are brilliant
but I regresf
forgive my sentimentality


the great ocean gulf of guilt
and time
and dreams
washing that shoreline
littered with wrecks
and shoal seekers
the treasures to hold too
when the tide arrives

when the moon swells
high in the mosaic sky

long ago the treasure of
building was so important
when I thought monuments
of family and values was
important and strong

but I belonged to no
no gang
no group
no flag
no patch

alone shunned from
the mighty of the pack

I hear them nipping and
growling amonst themselves
today with the petty governing
of power...the little ALPHAS
knowing that they may grow
from the litters the pure
the strong

and today we bury the old idealists
pure and lost
whom held the point

and those that want to ankle bite
\the world down
and try to lead in the impossible
risk taking decision making realms

in a world where everyone just throws
it all under the bus


there is a higher order of watchers
intelligence..power..value and integrity
while the rest play
at this potential of what man can become

its a choice


my crew are prowling
the nuances

and we bow to a higher
order not just a man
made notion

values and a new strong friend
a travel mate..a wolf companion woman
keeps me groomed

and the pack is growing as we drive out
the weak and greedy
the lazy
bus throwers

who would not want a league of poets
strong that had a voice
and could have backed Plath and Sexton
enough to get them past the cruel rejections
they held like poisonous treasures

it is not an easy task
but one of strength honour and resilience

Happy Birthday to my cub..
Our cub today!!!

vaulted with talents and gifts

Thank You!

author comment

This in its own right/write is a great piece.
Your story Oh mighty Wolf that can lead.
Remember that the rocks of the Grand canyon were complete once.
Now as tombstones to millions of years they are worn to dust and blown away.
Our physical things are as the sands of the desert
Mighty mountains ground to dust.
Yet what is this I hear if I listen with the inner ear??
I hear of all the stories and beautiful creatures
They will never be dust they belong to us,
They will flow as wind blown desert sand,
but they hold the secrets of the years,
and flow in the eternity of the universe
You Wolf have been trained and are always aware of those things.
The things that are the secrets of the years, where you can run free,
Then once again take your place at the great gathering.
There the sight will never be clouded or the feelings other than perfect.
Go well young Wolf hold the patience of the Elders in your hand as you reach out.
Touch the cub with the love of those that cannot physically do so, the cub will feel that secret you hold..
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.