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Poets first poems workshop

This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.

The First Poem I Ever Wrote

Pass me the cheese for my peas,
please,
Before I get stung on my knees
by bees that carry disease!

fear

i can literally feel letters, words, sentences fighting their way through and across my mind

searching for an outlet, also searching for emotions to define them

do i dare wake the sleeping demons?

do i dare go deeper than this?

do i dare search for these emotions

when i find them - because eventually i will- and i turn them into words, will you think i am crazy?

An Acrostic Poem (first poet's workshop)

Those birds I ponder near my house
Have holes in trees as flitter mouse,
Except they flitter through the day.

Such grating songs they always play,
Part cuckoo screeches calling loud,
All arrogance and preening proud.
Right rudely do they guard the nests-
Rough arguments; effusive pests.
Oh, sparrows are a noisome bunch
When break my fast and spoil my lunch.

And when of wind they might run dry,
Nowhere is there a silent sigh.
Damn chickadees now chide and bitch.

MY LOVE (first poem)

My love is like a clear spring day
whose golden sunbeams go their way
then suddenly explode in dew
to sparkle once again like new

Like spotting a quail upon the ground
her young ones following around
with a tiny chirping sound
this bird not sure just where she's bound.

Or spying a small calf just born
a frolicking this sunny morn
crying out with joyful bleat
while running 'round on tireless feet.

A Bride to Be (My first Poem)

I woke up one day
I thought I'm in dream.
All the people were happy.
Nothing felt or looked the same.

The stunning birds were whistling.
Singing and chanting all around.
Giving the best of melody
Up, the skies echoed the sound.

The stars descended from their milky way,
Like the diamonds, towards earth, found a way.
Flowers and roses nicely bloomed.
They sent their scent away.

“What could be the day”? I wondered
Trying to find someone to say.
Why are women so pretty?
And men so gay?

(first poem) Endless Time

"Endless Time"
Freedom searching where to stay
Love wanting, soon to stray.
Everywhere they put you down
Life unfolding, this I've found.
Tareing, smearing, haunting 'til
Yet far away, it's there so still
Never stopping endless way
Beseeching wind, calling prey.
Yes I see I hear so well
wander far, this go still
Passing running eternity lie
On it goes never die
Persued with anger hiding be
On still chasing just to be free.
Time sonsuming, in my heart I'm there

Bare Bear... [For Poets first poems]

There was a bear that bore no hair
So not much of a bear or was he?
After all, he was a bare bear
and so twice the bear
as a bear that's fuzzy

The first poem I ever wrote

Jess (Weirdelf) is running a bit of a fun workshop - publishing the first poem (warts and all) you ever wrote. Go on, sign up. I've laid my soul bare, so join me.............
Remember to sign up for the workshop and then select 'Poets first poems' under the workshop tab at the bottom of the page, before you post to the stream.

Just for Weirdelf's workshop. This is the first poem I ever wrote, it makes me cringe to read it and I want to edit it like mad, but here it is.

Sonnet on The Man

O, that the child was ne’er conceived at all
nor yet excessive tell his birthing cries
cast not of God, but else God’s nearest ties.
Without he live, none founder ‘neath the pall.

Mankind in bliss and ne’er to ween the crawl,
despairing of lost joy, lamentful sighs
of liberty so failed no hopes disguise
the base unyielding curse of his enthrall.

White Gods of Hell in lapse for he did come!
Pale traitors felled betraying Dire Prince
held bleak aloft in dark the faltered chain.

The Wave

The Wave

The ripple on the horizon,
the imperceptible start.

The wave comes closer,
the wave reaches higher.
Now it’s upon him,
upon the tiny surfer.

High the wave reaches,
it towers over,
it gains a crown,
a boiling white crown,
and this great monster,
cold, cruel, curving,
picks up the surfer
and is smitten a blow,
a great white gash across its chest.

In attack the wave rears higher, higher,
higher still.
The surfer rides destruction safe to shoulder.

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