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foggisan

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  • Have you ever really considered the things happening right in front of you and the actual complexity of life.?

    Frame

    Lateral imposition of a calculated

    Force applied tangentially whilst

    Simultaneously describing an

    Extended arc in a vertical

    Plane, thereby imparting a

    Rotation effect designed to

    Generate a frictional resistance to

    The kinetic momentum in one plane

    And redirect the mass through a

    Parabola along a different plane

    Towards a fixed point

    Whereupon

    All the pins

    Fall over.

    Strike!

    3 AnswersPoetry9 years ago
  • What is your first thought when the doctor says "I'm sorry,.."?

    Complications

    Her world softly, silently

    Implodes, as the import of

    The doctor's words, delivered in

    Quietly apologetic tones, echoes

    Down the thousand mile

    Corridor that has opened

    In her breast. Images of

    Wedding day dances and

    Cinema trips, holidays by

    The sea and the time they

    Got caught in a cloudburst

    While walking in the hills.

    A nurse hovers in the

    Background, holding a board

    For the doctor to sign

    As all around, unheard, the hospital

    Hums, buzzes and clatters

    Unknowing and busy while

    She falls forever.

    6 AnswersPoetry9 years ago
  • What is that scent, I know it from somewhere?

    A shopping shark shimmers

    In the city centre seize

    Picking off the bargains

    With a practised, fluid ease

    Plastic card whispers

    As designer bags fill

    Parades her Prada handbag

    Like a hunter with his kill

    A Starbucks and a breather

    On the corner of the square

    Sips a skinny latte

    And restyles a wayward hair

    Then uncurls from her table

    Like a languid, waking cat

    Adjusts her perfect hemline

    Shakes a sunbeam from her hat

    So graceful on stilleto heels

    She negotiates the square

    The minnows part and shoal around

    Parfum, lingers, on the air.

    4 AnswersPoetry9 years ago
  • Can you see the boy in the corner?

    Away in the corner

    Pulled into a ball

    A tight knot of pain

    With his head on the wall

    (A tear demands to be seen)

    The language of learning

    Is passing him by

    In shame at his pain

    He's refusing to cry

    (It squeezes through tight shut eyes)

    Jumbled impressions

    Of numbers and sounds

    Questions and theories

    And words turning round

    {Falling softly to the floor}

    Unnoticed he suffers

    A personal hell

    Begging salvation

    From a mid-morning bell

    (To reflect November skies)

    Bells ringing!

    Hearts singing!

    Stampede at the door.

    And the teacher sits and puzzles

    Over splash marks

    On the floor.

    4 AnswersPoetry9 years ago
  • Is an end ever truly an ending?

    The tree was tired

    And found it easier to let go

    Than hold on.

    The leaves, abandoned, died.

    Falling in their thousands

    They gathered in drifts,

    Blown in the wind,

    Settling finally in the rain.

    Returning to the soil from whence they came.

    The tree, meanwhile, rested.

    Until, with Spring, it woke,

    Gathered the leaves into it again

    And greeted the sun with new vigour,

    The leaves gloried in the warmth and light.

    And, day by day,

    The world turned.

    As it should.

    11 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Where do they all go when they are not here?

    I saw two young girls, giggling,

    Comparing carrots to I don't know what.

    A man passes me in a hurry,

    Lines of concentration on his brow,

    Swirls of anxiety in his wake,

    While a silver haired old lady

    Peruses the wine labels, half smiling.

    I wonder if she's planning a romantic dinner.

    Two small children pass in a cloud of laughs,

    Ignoring the cries of a harried mother

    And hiding round the corner of the bread rolls.

    Waiting breathlessly, wide eyed, grinning.

    A pair of teenagers lounge studiously,

    Studying the CD racks with one eye

    And a couple of girls with the other,

    Exuding nonchalance and pheremones.

    People in shop uniforms bustle,

    Filling shelves, sweeping, giving directions

    With fixed grins, genuine grins, warm smiles,

    An occasional grimace.

    White, black, brown, yellow,

    They're all here, and then gone again,

    Replaced minute by minute.

    Where do they come from?

    Where do they go?

    What do they do, think, want, dislike?

    How many are saints, sinners, lunatics?

    Are any of them aware of me? Each other?

    Oh, my line is moving,

    Got to go

    8 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Where do they all go when they're not here?

    I saw two young girls, giggling,

    Comparing carrots to I don't know what.

    A man passes me in a hurry,

    Lines of concentration on his brow,

    Swirls of anxiety in his wake,

    While a silver haired old lady

    Peruses the wine labels, half smiling.

    I wonder if she's planning a romantic dinner.

    Two small children pass in a cloud of laughs,

    Ignoring the cries of a harried mother

    And hiding round the corner of the bread rolls.

    Waiting breathlessly, wide eyed, grinning.

    A pair of teenagers lounge studiously,

    Studying the CD racks with one eye

    And a couple of girls with the other,

    Exuding nonchalance and pheremones.

    People in shop uniforms bustle,

    Filling shelves, sweeping, giving directions

    With fixed grins, genuine grins, warm smiles,

    An occasional grimace.

    White, black, brown, yellow,

    They're all here, and then gone again,

    Replaced minute by minute.

    Where do they come from?

    Where do they go?

    What do they do, think, want, dislike?

    How many are saints, sinners, lunatics?

    Are any of them aware of me? Each other?

    Oh, my line is moving,

    Got to go.

    5 AnswersOther - Cultures & Groups1 decade ago
  • Did you notice the girl with the pushchair in town today? Did you?

    With a wistful smile

    She deftly tucks the blanket in,

    Whispering as she does so,

    "There, sweetheart, there."

    Litter chatters along the road,

    Needing to be somewhere else.

    The baby sleeps for now,

    Oblivious to the street wind

    And her mother's quiet struggle.

    Stalking the sales, special offers,

    Trying to find ends to make meet

    Maybe get ahead of the game

    Not just make it to payday.

    Around her the City pulsates,

    A steel, stone and wire leviathan

    Devoid of emotion, warmth, heart.

    It breathes, dead exhalations of fumes,

    Smoke and remains of nightclub dreams.

    She pulls her collar tight

    Shoulders her bag and heads for home.

    Car horns blare and engines hum.

    Maybe tomorrow,

    Maybe....

    9 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Does your community have pillars you are hardly aware of?

    Three hundred and twenty years in the making.

    Lovers have met

    Battles been fought, won and lost

    And the afternoon heat

    Has been endured here.

    The King of the castle triumphed-

    And was duly deposed here

    Armies seen off

    Defenders overwhelmed.

    An enemy base

    A home sanctuary.

    Hitching post

    Rendezvous, spaceship and monkey bars

    Oh, and cuckoos have been heard here.

    Countless hands, feet and tired posteriors have left their mark.

    And it has left a mark in my heart, here.

    The old tree trunk in the park.

    6 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Have you seen the other side of the city today?

    Time flows down the street

    Sighing. Newspapers eddy

    Circling along the shopfront

    And catching on the bolts

    That hold the ply-boards in place.

    An aerosol affidavit proclaims

    Denny's love for Mandy

    While litter bins regurgitate

    Styrofoam and burger wrappers

    From last nights passing revellers.

    Diesel rainbows dance the gutters

    Bringing colour to the day

    Amidst the concrete and decay.

    A dog waters the lamp post

    Whilst wind-moans hang around the

    Telephone lines and chain-link

    Remembering other days.

    Either side of the street

    The buildings' shoulders

    Droop in the afternoon,

    Waiting

    Waiting......

    10 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Do you feel the cold at this time of year?

    Threadbare mists advance

    Infiltrating the treeline

    Creating a landscape of wraiths,

    Spectres, tree-skeletons.

    A muslin veil over

    A half-world of

    Soft shadows and

    Sensed shapes,

    Frost-rimed ephemera..

    Fog flows up the valley

    On ponderous lion's paws

    A visual avalanche

    Of silent white

    Pillowed on the land

    Sound and vibrancy

    Choked off, stymied,

    Hidden from view

    In a sepulchre of

    Swirling purest samite.

    Timeless limbo

    Holding off the sun

    Until the light fades

    And ice forms.

    Winter reigns.

    9 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • When is the best time to see the blooms?

    Floating, it seems

    On a hot desert wind

    Silent.

    Falling to the ground

    There to bloom

    In brightest yellow

    Shot through with streaks

    Of red and orange.

    Beauty in the midst

    Of austerity.

    The observer is taken

    By the spectacle

    And smiles.

    "Zero, this is Tango Three Zero,

    Target destroyed. Over."

    "Roger, Tango Three Zero,

    Return to base. Out."

    " Roger, ETA one hour. Out."

    Smoke follows the blooms.

    Letters to families

    Will follow the smoke.

    14 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Have you seen the SUN today?

    All you Martians might be interested in the headlines of today's newspaper here in England.

    http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/

    7 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Do you believe in miracles?

    PUSHING

    Gaze forward

    Beyond the clock

    Leave now behind

    And feel the push

    The living urge

    To reach up and see

    The light

    Feel the power

    The immensity of it

    And hold, hold the moment

    Bring it back, back, back

    To now, here.

    See the miracle

    In your hand

    A seed.

    Pushing

    Pushing.....

    14 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Do the smallest things catch your eye, occasionally?

    GLINT

    I see myself

    Differently, with

    The world wrapped round

    As a fishes eye

    Brightly,sharp-lined

    And glinting; edged.

    An evolving, elliptical

    Self contained

    Rolling world, and then

    Gone. Breezed away

    On a wind-whim.

    Window-rain.

    8 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • How beautifully does the wind sing in the trees when you are quiet?

    The wind circles

    Waiting in the branches

    To sweep the stones

    Clear of leaves

    When I depart.

    For now though,

    It shows respect

    As do I.

    Respect for a life

    A time and love

    And the heartprint

    You left behind.

    In the sunlight

    A tear, falling

    A gift of thanks

    For being

    Rest in peace.

    10 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Wow! there's hundreds of 'em today!?

    My eyes have gone spottery

    I'm feeling all tottery

    Surrounded by a coterie

    (Like pots in a pottery

    Or money in a lottery)

    Of poems by Otteri!

    I'm joking, don't take a pot at me!

    9 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Does anyone in power ever listen to the voice of the wild?

    Lines on paper shift

    To marks on the ground to

    Concrete on grass to

    Blot on the landscape to

    Lines on paper to

    Whom it may concern.....

    4 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Kudos - Ku, what do you think?

    Respect is value

    Gleaned from your actions and thoughts

    The wages of worth.

    7 AnswersPoetry1 decade ago
  • Why did 'God send His Son to atone for our sins'?

    I took my daughter to a Christingle service last Sunday because it's a special one for the children that they all enjoy and I won't let my feelings about the church ruin my kids' enjoyment of Christmas at 6 years of age.

    The vicar talked of the 'Blood of Christ sacrificed for our salvation'.

    I thought ....OK, an omnipotent Being sits on his cloud and is jarred off at the human race (his pets/toys/proteges etc.) and feels they have been bad. REALLY bad. So bad they are never going to get into heaven unless they are forgiven and to get that they need to do some serious 'sorry work'.

    He decides to send Number One Son down to them to preach the Good Word of love, peace, honour and respect and low carbon footprint etc. The REALLY bad human race listen to his Son and decide he's a troublemaker. Not content with a few whip lashes or a mild stoning they nail him to a tree and stick a bloody great spear in him. Dead.

    Now, if we are to believe the Bible ( The so-called word of the Big Man Himself) this made everything OK.

    'GOD' then felt that the humans had 'Made Up For Their Transgressions' and could now be admitted to His Heaven Club.

    By murdering His Son.

    Right.

    Is it me or can anyone see a teeny-weeny little flaw in this thinking?

    Or am I missing something?

    I know there are some True Believers out there with an IQ of 130+ capable of Critical Thinking Skills, let's hear from you. (My IQ is 143 in case you ask.)

    12 AnswersReligion & Spirituality1 decade ago