GotPoetry.com > > Blogs
GotPoetry.com

Help
Toggle Content .:: Home :: Poems :: Workshop Forums :: Register :: Features ::.
Toggle Content Menu

Toggle Content User Info

Welcome Anonymous

Nickname
Password
(Register)

Membership:
Latest: cmestop4
New Today: 0
New Yesterday: 1
Overall: 16889

People Online:
Members: 0
Visitors: 192
Bots: 1
Staff: 1
Staff Online:
01: Ozymandias

Toggle Content Paid Membership
Buy a paid membership and get more out of GotPoetry!

Advertise on the GotPoetry Advertising Network.

Toggle Content Survey
I like online surveys




Results :: Polls

Votes: 469
Comments: 1

Blogs
of 297
Next Page | Last Page
GotPoetry's Blog Main | Displaying 15 results per page
The following is a list of GotPoetry's blog entries, in reverse order

sschubert
Love is a drug Monday, July 28, 2014 (14:42:00)
The saying is don’t sweat the small stuff, not just blow them off all together. It’s the little things, like communicating plans are changing, that builds the foundation of trust and bonding in a relationship. Seemingly insignificant things to one person may be significant to the other person. Feeling unappreciated is a relationship killer. Love is a drug, watch out how you use that shit.
Comments (0)

Pujakins
Heartwings Love Notes for a joyous life 631: Perspective Makes the Difference Monday, July 28, 2014 (00:10:47)
Heartwings says, "What suits one person might seem distasteful to another."

Years ago I visited my late mom and dad in the new home they had bought in Florida. Compared with other places they had lived, it seemed small and somewhat dingy. They loved it. My mother raved about her grapefruit tree, my father proudly pointed out their small swimming pool, about two and a half to three feet deep and maybe eight or ten feet square. It was inside a screened in room with a roof. Of course I said "How nice, I'm so happy for you."

I was happy, yet sad too. It seemed to me that they ought to be in something bigger and more grand. Previously for a few years Daddy had owned a large home in Bermuda. It had lovely gardens, many rooms and a resident ghost. The house they lived in while I was growing up, while not grand, was quite a bit bigger and more spacious than where they were now. Even their summer home in Maine was larger than this one. How could they be content living in a home that was so much smaller and less spacious.

That was many years ago. I thought of this recently because I now fully understand why my parents liked their simpler, more manageable home. Older now than they were then, I relish the simplicity of my life in an apartment as opposed to what it was like in our two previous houses. It is a joy not to have to clean two or three bathrooms every week. I adore my little kitchen and function much more efficiently in it than in the roomier ones I once enjoyed.

To be sure there are down sides to smaller, simpler living quarters, yet they are more than compensated for by the blessings. A friend of mine who recently moved into a nursing home tells me she is really happy in her little space. "I wish my children could feel happy for me," she told me, I have no worries, the staff take wonderful care of me here, and I am so very comfortable." Perhaps her children feel guilty they aren't caring for her themselves. Yet from her perspective, everything is just wonderful. I know what she means.

Try taking a look from another perspective; perhaps what you'll see is a different point of view.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

To enjoy more Love notes or to sign up for a free weekly subscription, please visit www.heartwingslovenotes.com. Check out Domestic Tranquility 1 on You Tube for a look at the Halperts in person. For a chance to enjoy some humorous writing please visit www.funnywrite.com and enjoy the postings, not only by my husband Stephen and his friend Ken, but by others. Readers are invited to contribute there. Questions or comments? Please write tashahal@aol.com
Comments (0)

sschubert
Walls Saturday, July 26, 2014 (13:19:00)
You build the pillow walls and I will stay behind them.
Comments (0)

kylebank
a Moby Dick poem Friday, July 25, 2014 (19:25:00)
What if Ahab's obsessive monomania was a hunt for a wee mouse, instead of a leviathan whale? This poem is based on text from Chapter 70 of Moby Dick, "The Sphynx."


Captain Ahab Beheads a Mouse

Speak, thou finite
and devious head,
which, though garnished
with beard and whiskers,
yet here and there lookest bald
and matted; speak,
tiny head, and tell me
the secret thing
that is in thee.

Of all that scurries,
thou hast scurried deepest.
That head, upon which
the sun now gleams,
has moved amid
this house’s foundations.

Where unrecovered keys
and coins do rust,
and untold crumbs
and crusts do rot;
where in her suffocating cellar
this sooty home is supported
by the dust of a million sweepings;
there, in that awful cinder-land,
was thy most familiar home.

Thou hast been
where broom
nor vaccuum
never went;
hast slept by many
a rag-doll’s side,
where sleepless
children
would give their lives
to lay them down.
Comments (0)

sschubert
Life Review at 42 Thursday, July 24, 2014 (14:45:00)
I look back over the last year of my life and marvel at the amount of circumstances that have been dealt with. I feel stronger and yet a little more unsure than ever. I wonder in the next year what accomplishments await me. What untouched dreams I still have to discover. Where will I be in just one year from now? I know what I dream, what I want, what I strive for. Even when I fall short in my performance, my drive remains unaffected. Nothing like an annual life review to clear your mind and concrete your intentions.
Comments (0)

sschubert
No Pressure Here Tuesday, July 22, 2014 (13:53:00)
P.s. No pressure here….I try not to have any expectations, even the ones other people set for me. That way I feel let down less often and people are free to make the life choices they so choose without my influence. I can take care of anything and everything that passes my way, even if it isn’t perfect, and if I make mistakes, I just learn from them and move on. So there is no reason to worry about what I expect, want or need from anyone but from myself. Nope, no pressure here, at all.
Comments (0)

tomasocarthaigh
Bless me Father, for I have sinned... Tuesday, July 22, 2014 (12:12:19)
Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
Its been a hell of a long time since my last confession here!


As always with blog posts, it bes a while between them. I call them my "confessions" as it normally sums up what I have been doing in the while before them.



So, for the past year, we have had a number of poetry readings in Tullamore and thereabouts with the Tullamore Rhymers Club that I am part of, and have kept the Writings in Rhyme website updated with new posts, with some surpirising ones being more popular than others.

As a writer it is of intrest to see some verse you though average hitting a chord, and others you put your heart and soul into not meeting the level of intrest you thought would be considering the effort you put into it.

So, below, I link to a few posts of topical intrest

Current Affairs - the Sino - Philippine conflict

Away from the worlds passing focus on Ukraine, Palestine and Syria, a simmering conflict is gathering pace in the West Philippine Sea. I reflect on it in my verse "A War We Do Not See", among other poems that capture the current state of the conflict.

Writers, Egos and Ethics

Some writers tend to lose the focus of why they write when opportunity presents itself to become established and / or be accepted by the mainstream. Verse from active conflicts with writers and others in support of writers who events are hijacked by slaves to their own ego (Fred Johnstone being edged out of Cúirt which he founded, and of late Gene Barrys trouble in Fermoy), often have roots in personal feuds, or the most reprehensible source of all, politics!

Every writer has their opinions on issues of the day, and in a counter current to what is popular on the pro-life / pro-choice debate, I am, though left wing, pro life. In the world of arts and politics, and where they cross, this has brought no end of grief, especially with a writer who used it to get at another writer in a personal fued with the aforementioned Mr Johnstone. The writer in question, who we will refer to as Poet Biggins, is something according to himself as a dry wit, and is working the poetry circuit on that basis, using political connections with a fantastic campaigning TD (MP) whose Achilles Heel is a loyalty beyond common sense to males of dubious character.

All very cryptic, but sure it has been keeping me busy over the past while!

Video Poetry

I have taken quite an intrest in the field of producing short animations of my poems in videopoems, and hope to incorporate proper "live recorded" video footage into them, unlike previous ones which are presentations more than films as such. Poems such as "Give to me an Angry Sea", "As Alone As The Moon", "The Courtly Lovers" and "Flying Over Europe" shall be added to in the coming months.

Summary

As with confessions, it can be a while between them no matter how good ones intentions, and in that vein I sign off in the hope of not sinning too much before the next one, which may or may not be in the forseeable future! So, to keep up to date, keep an eye on the Writings In Rhyme website!
Comments (0)

Pujakins
Getting Rich the Easy way, Heartwings Love Notes 630 Sunday, July 20, 2014 (21:55:07)
Heartwings says," It is easy to get wealthy when you don't spend any money."

Recently Stephen and I were walking around a local department store. "Look at those great shoes," he said, pointing to a snazzy pair on display. "I'll bet they'd look great on you." I checked the price tag and winced. "They might indeed, however I'm not up for spending seventy five dollars on a pair of shoes I'll wear once or twice, even if they are on sale. "

Stephen spotted a chair and went to sit on it. "Try it," he said, getting up. "It would look nice in our new living room." I sat down in it and indeed it was not only comfortable but also just the right color to go with the new drapes. "It's only three hundred dollars," I said, checking out the price tag. "What do you think? I know you've been wanting a new chair. Are you interested?" He shook his head. "Actually, no, Not three hundred dollars worth of interested."

The kitchen department claimed our attention. "We could replace all your pots with these new trendy ones," he said, pointing to some beautifully shiny new cookware. "They're on sale too, The entire set is a mere one hundred and fifty dollars." This time it was I who shook my head. "I prefer my old pots, thanks just the same. I've had them a long time and they've served me well." He smiled. "But that's the point. Maybe it's time for some new ones." We strolled on, checking the items on sale, looking at the cost of rugs, linens and intriguing gadgets.

As we went along I added up the amounts we weren't spending. Then when we were ready to leave the store I turned to Stephen. "You know what? Thanks to all the money we didn't spend, we're about eight hundred dollars richer than we were when we came in." "Great," he said, "then we can afford to out to eat." "Oh, give me a rain check," I said, "As luck would have it I've a great casserole waiting at home." He nodded and smiled. "Now we're eight hundred and thirty dollars richer."

May you increase your wealth the easy way,-- by avoiding spending.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

If you wish to subscribe to Heartwings Love Notes, or have any comments, please let me know. To read past issues, go www.heartwingslovenotes.com. To read a wonderful book of short stories, buy Abracadabra Moonshine by Stephen Halpert on Amazon.com in either the Kindle or the paperback edition. Stephen's funny stories can be read on www.funnywrite.com. Tasha's poetry can be read at www.gotpoetry.com under the avatar of Pujakins.
Comments (1)

b.b.w.(Tulsa)
Creed of the "Great Agnostic" Saturday, July 19, 2014 (21:54:16)
"While I am opposed to all orthodox creeds, I have a creed myself;
and my creed is this:

Happiness is the only good.
The time to be happy is now.
The place to be happy is here.
The way to be happy is to make others so.

This creed is somewhat short, but it is long enough for this life,
strong enough for this world. If there is another world, when we
get there we can make another creed."

--Robert Green Ingersol (1833-99)
Comments (0)

sschubert
Destiny Friday, July 18, 2014 (14:34:57)
I can’t stop myself
from loving you
I can’t help
the way I feel
I love how we are
And what we have
I think I have found
What I was looking for
Funny how is it then
That you
actually found me
It’s Destiny
Yep that’s right
Say it again
It’s destiny
Smile
Comments (0)

sschubert
Doubt Thursday, July 17, 2014 (16:40:42)
It's times like these when I am filled with doubt in my expressions of life, that I have renewed faith. Thanks GP slam voters this is one of my newest writes... The Game of Love (Face Off) called by sschubert won by sschubert with I want to rule your heart <3 XOXOXO Steph
Comments (0)

sschubert
I am happy Tuesday, July 15, 2014 (18:12:19)
Yeah, you make me happy. In case you didn’t already know. I do miss you, us, as we were....there is a lot of space in between us these days.
Comments (0)

fogglethorpe
FIFA Monday, July 14, 2014 (06:13:45)
Three hours
Knee socks
Scoreless tie
Comments (0)

b.b.w.(Tulsa)
The Dock Sunday, July 13, 2014 (03:45:25)
(A Childhood Recollection)

It was always much better with my dad
And me out on the lake in our fiberglass
Fifteen-footer with a seven-horse Evinrude.
Even though we never caught anything
But crappie and perch, it was all still cool
The times we had. That was till Grandma Bess
And Step-grandfather Job bought (or rented)
Their own indoor dock on Martin Lake—
Heated, no less, with electricity.
So then we took our fishing trips with them.
The dock, with smoky windows that were all
Stuck shut, smelled dank and fishy, so much worse
Than the lake outside with a cool, fresh breeze
On the gravelly bank. (That was before
I knew fish stank because the water did,
Full of slimy scum and blue-green algae.)

The old folks swore by fishing early spring,
When it was too cold and the gas stove was
Too hot to stand near—though four feet away
There was no heat. And the wooden plank floor
Showed its scary gaps as it was heaved
By frigid, lapping waves beneath the dock,
Causing it all to groan much like the sound
Of Grandma trying to crap behind the thin
Door of the latrine. But I remember
Most the large square open in the center
For dropping in our lines: a miniature
Green ocean, dark and ominous, fenced off
By rotting guard rails nailed around the edge--
I thought how awful falling in would be.
At ten I knew: Old people shouldn’t fish.

Departure time was dawn, when Dad and I
Would ride with Bess and Job in the old Rambler
Ambassador he always talked about,
His baby he plied with the automotive
Ambrosia called Marvel Mystery Oil.
But after Job’s and Grandma’s bathroom breaks
And stopping for the bait and RC Cola,
It was usually after ten 0’clock
When we got to the dock, and Dad would get
A little steamed. Yet we were willing then
To take our fishing any way we could—
That was until that fateful Saturday
When we were almost drowned because of Job.

The front of the dock was a poor man’s pier
Facing the lake’s murky immensity,
Luring us out on the open water,
Where fish over a pound allegedly
Were waiting for our hooks. As old Job pulled
The rope to raise the creaky sliding door,
My dad quipped, “Put some Marvel Mystery Oil
On that sucker.” (Of course, Job couldn’t hear.)
I stood on the platform watching the men
Load oars, our poles, the bait, a brown-bag lunch
Into the dry-docked skiff while Grandma Bess
Looked grim, and more from fear than constipation.
“Now, Job, you haven’t tried that rusty thing
Out yet,” she said. “Be careful with the boy!”
But I knew how to swim—a little bit.

We shoved off and were about two minutes
And twenty feet out from the dock when we
Felt the water crawling up our ankles.
When I jumped up, dumped the minnows, and began
Bailing with the bait bucket, Grandma screamed
From the dock, “Job, you old witless fool,
Do something quick!” But to the old guy’s credit,
He had already turned the boat around
And was rowing back to the dock as fast
As rheumatism and the gout allowed.
My dad yelled, “Shit!” (a rare thing) as he fumbled
On his knees in the cold water to grab
The drain cap dangling from a chain in the stern.
Once the leak was stopped, Dad snatched the bucket
From my hands and bailed like a lunatic
Until the boat rose to its normal level
On the water. Looking back, there hadn’t
Been enough time to be scared—not really.

With soaked shoes and pants, no bat, no lunch,
We headed back in the Ambassador.
Job didn’t like the car seats getting wet—
Bess didn’t like the way he ruined the trip.
But me, I didn’t mind it ending early.
(Dad saved us from the next trip with a lie,
And I believe they got rid of the dock
Soon after that.) Even with wet britches,
I felt a little devilish on the ride
Home that day, and I chuckled as I thought,
The boat should have been plugged as well as Grandma.
Comments (0)

Pujakins
Heartwings Love Notes 629 Hail To Thee Blythe Spirit Saturday, July 12, 2014 (20:03:52)
Heartwings says, "Some individuals leave a legacy beyond what can be seen or touched."

The world has lost a bright spirit, and heaven has gained a very special one. We who are left behind mourn the passing of one who enriched the lives of many with her actions and her enthusiasm. Now that she is no longer bound by a flesh and blood body, Jennifer White can spread her wings even more freely, expand upon her many talents more surely, and share herself with the wider world more completely.

Stephen and I met her through her church, the UU church of Grafton, not too long after we joined. Drawn to her positive nature, Stephen shared his dream of an arts festival for the children and adults of Grafton and the surrounding towns. Together with a small crew of hard workers, the three of us put on the first as well as subsequent festivals together. Without Jen's knowledge and expertise in publicity and public relations, this would never have happened.

One of her wonderful qualities was her honesty. Another was her ability to marshal people to get involved with a good idea. She was a generous, moving force behind many projects besides the festival. People were drawn to work with her not only because of her bright personality but also because she was forthright both with praise and with suggestions for change. I enjoyed working with her and greatly regret that there will be no more opportunities to do so.

She was enormously creative and supportive of that in others. When I published my first book of Heartwings Love Notes she bought many copies to give friends, calling it a "girlfriends book." She also fostered and encouraged her children's creativity. One way was by publishing and then widely promoting her two books of entertaining and illuminating children's poems which she had written to go with humorous illustrations by her son.

She was a shooting star that blazed up and then fell to earth. She was a blossoming flower that unfolded and then was gone. She left behind a legacy of good deeds and kindness that will long be remembered. She was a very special friend that I was privileged to know and love.

May we all follow her example of sharing and caring.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert
Comments (0)
of 297
Next Page | Last Page



GotPoetry - News for poets. Place to write.

GotPoetry is the most popular network of performance poets and poetry readings on the internet today.

Editors: John, Mamta and a cast of tens of others.
Publisher: John Powers

Content © 1998-2008
GotPoetry LLC. All rights reserved

Engine released under GNU GPL, Code Credits, Privacy Policy, Legal Notices

Search:
 
GotPoetry.com Web

Forums Search
Gallery Search
Advanced Search


Link to Full Archives
Link to all News Topics


Link for all submission options for this site.

Subscribe - Use an RSS reader to stay up to date with the latest news and posts from GotPoetry.

GotPoetry News RSS Feed

Subscribe with Yahoo!
Subscribe with Google

Other GotPoetry RSS Syndication -  You can syndicate other parts of our site using the following files:

Yesterday's Top News
Yesterday's Top Poems
Forums
New Photos
Blogs
Downloads
Featured Articles