simple little poems

this is to lancer

who says that you write any fancier.

poems don't always rhyme

and your comment is an unecessary sign.

If you wish to criticize,

then make sure your points of orgin do fly.

Whose is to say just because a poem doesn't rhyme theat it isn't a poem.  I created this  "Simple Little Poems" section for exactly what it is: Simple Little Poems.  Now for a little criticism from me, myself.  If your poem is over 20 lines, the guess what.  What? you may be asking right now.  It isn't a simple little poem.  So, I ask you to please keep it to 20 lines or less.  I sure do thank you for your poems.

Death is like an animal

Stalking us, waiting just for the right moment

to strike...

Kindred Spirit

his profile sways
near the nightlight
as he tries new angles
for new flavors
of the flickering light
he closes in
then withdrawals
then back in
to gently kiss
the glowing globe
to taste the warmth
smell the dimness
brush up against
the fiery fairy
trapped inside

© Writch, 2009

           Sprinting Along the Border

we haven't the jargon to redefine wonder
but if you fling the gate wide
and let the lunatic tell you how accurate you are
at deciphering the message behind the gibberish
you can speak with the word watchers

the ghosts left calling cards-
hear them moan above the shouting
as shadows are thrown from the staircase
by angels arriving to witness the birth of luck,
to whisper, and spin stories like gold

give a hand to the pseudo immortals
while fundamentalists circle the wagons
in their alliance of failure
and even the bright shiny lord they built
urges caution as hate is set in mortar, one brick at a time

And me? I'm still here under a backdrop of stars
flung across the night sky, sprinting along the border
between heaven and hell
waiting for an invitation
and humming Beatles tunes

Actually it is a Dutch poem,so the context doesn't related.In my profile it in Dutch

here it is!!!

doesn't seem lost to me.

Does it to anyone else?

yeah, funny dat.

The light fades from the bed,
where the lover's only wish
they had met.

Their touch turns sour,
and taste stands bitter,
for only in dreams,
they meet their hour.

And time stands still,
just like in a song,
when they spend the night,
right where they belong.

In the middle of having to pay
attention to what really matters
the sun rose above my awareness
and so I blinded my understanding.

well that may cause a debate

- lostapiece © 2009

        If all beauty be a flower,

        Then in the garden of thy face,

        I have seen wild, scarlet roses

        Burning in a blanket of lillies.

        And if music be the food of love,

        Then a whisper from your lips

        Shall sate me this lifetime,

        As a glorious choir of angels.

The winners die hard

The losers live free

For there is a reason

Why it's like thee

Aren't you hungry?

LUNCH

Soft bun, sweet sliced pickle,

A masterpiece burgar for just over a nickle.

Juicy patty, crisp onions,

With a side of crunchy Funions.

I crunch, I munch,

I am blessed with a great lunch!

i liked that..:D It displays the joys of eatng a blessd meal..It is brightly expressed.^_^

Why, thank you! : D

It gave me indigestion.

moooo!!!  mooooooo!!!  It needs more cow-bell"

hi!

[COMMENT DELETED] (moved to Writchcraft: handcrafted baubles, gewgaws, and other frippery)