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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

HEARTLESS

Submitted by Geremia on Tue, 2014-01-14 16:02

HEARTLESS

When did your heart
lose its beat for me
why did your embraces
grow cold and meaningless
what took away the forever
in your eyes.
When did you stop
looking at me.

I sink each day into an oblivion
without you
You were my breath
the maker of my dreams
my resurrection.
Now, you are my death
and your indifference
is my crucifixion.

Whistling A Chinese Song (Complete Poem WS Edit 3)

Submitted by raj on Tue, 2014-01-14 15:23

(Also With Title Revised from the original "Sing because you have a song)
(This Edit #3 has punctuation errors corrected, thanks to detailed scrutiny by Wesley)

Fastening my seat belt
whistling a Chinese song,
I'm ready to steer
my second hand car.

Windshield though cracked
will let in fresh air,
bonnet made of steel
wearing red oxide scales.

The tires may have aged
over some bumpy rides,
but the battery is almost new;
will last me many miles.

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

IN JANUARY

Submitted by scribbler on Tue, 2014-01-14 14:57

The new year is days now in the past
and rush of holidays is gone
while winter's heart approaches fast
with white frost greeting every dawn.

I snug my hat on old bare head,
hunch shoulders in my thick wool coat.
Instead of warm I'm far from bed
where breaths of chill air burn my throat.

That same breeze sighs through the hardwood
and hushes sounds among the pines.
I'll not walk as far as I once could
and keep alert for tripping vines.

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

When They Come Asking

Submitted by William Saint George on Tue, 2014-01-14 13:30

It's been a while since I talked
with someone who wanted to listen,
told them of all the useless
things I could think of to fill
the time,
those days have long since dogeared
there are vignettes on the edges
of the frame, rust, rat bites,
the colours aren't vivid anymore,
except the smiles,
those will last a while, I think,
before they too are rubbed
off by neglect.

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

A Sad Land (The Complete Poem WS)

Submitted by Rula on Tue, 2014-01-14 12:54

It's been quite long since pains eclipsed my joys
and let the mournings cloak my days and nights,
my dreams became nightmares of girls and boys
whose sinless childhood fed the endless plights.

Now trees are shedding tears-no leaves to shed,
no birds to sing, or whispering wind to hear
and sadness lives and veils the wild instead
as rainbows fade where clouds there hide in fear.

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

An Epode of Sorts (Complete Poem Workshop)

Submitted by wesley snow on Tue, 2014-01-14 12:39

Through timelines immemorial
mankind has written poems,
with wordsmith nigh celestial
he filled nigh endless tomes.

Who wrote the first to poesy shape?
When did he recognize
the panacea’s posed escape
from all he did despise?

His epode came before his prose.
He beat the drums aloud.
Heartfelt the elegist knew throes
of joy and pain enshroud.

‘Longside the painter in the cave
the poet sang his song.
He sang of gods and heroes brave
and what he thought was wrong.

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

it will always be you

Submitted by Seren on Tue, 2014-01-14 08:10

I ache to be held in your arms
and have you nuzzle my hair
I can still smell cool water
on my sheets

your face
has become a mask
where once
I could read you
with a look,
I am now clueless

our house is tumbling down
lumber passes your head
without a single glance

your eyes are veiled
their darkness
impenetrable,
I search for a glimmer
of hope, finding none

"The Advisor" the complete poem start to finish (small second Edit)

Submitted by Ian.T on Tue, 2014-01-14 07:25

Advisor (poem pre book write, - second main Edit)

I had taken out a lot of the capital letters that started each line, now this one is where I have started to edit to the comments received

I sat at my lonely station,
the library a quiet meditation.
Oh how I yearned to shout,
telling the world what life was about
.
Day on day just passed away
my mind drifted it wouldn’t stay
to this silence I wasn't a slave
out it would go wave on wave

Workshop: 
The Complete Poem- Start to Finish

te extraño

Submitted by emogothgirl on Mon, 2014-01-13 22:25

a harsher translation.
not I miss you,
but you are missing from me
as in a pair of lips have haunted me since the theater
fingertips trailed from my knee to my ribs
warm breath creeping from just below my ear
to the base of my spine
in public I don't think I have ever been so willing
the temperature rose but nothing happened.
and yet I can't say I would have been above it.

Flame

Submitted by captjack on Mon, 2014-01-13 15:57

The flame upon a candle sits,
its light against the darkness pits.
Its strength the slightest breeze will tax,
and press it low to melted wax.

Persistent flicker 'til the dawn,
when wax is spent and flame is gone.
In this nocturnal vigil kept,
a thousand fears from night are swept.

So are lives like candles lit,
each pushing back the dark a bit.
And when the day arrives at last,
the flame to glowing wick is passed.

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