Anyone want to take a break from the usual?

If so, join in with poems and verses that inspire, provide humor or is downright silly.

However, please...keep political and controversial topics out of it. There are more than enough posts on every perspective on these subjects on the forum.


Here's my first:


The Cookie Thief
by Valerie Cox

A woman was waiting at an airport one night,
With several long hours before her flight.
She hunted for a book in the airport shops.
Bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.

She was engrossed in her book but happened to see,
That the man sitting beside her, as bold as could be.
Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag in between,
Which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene.

So she munched the cookies and watched the clock,
As the gutsy cookie thief diminished her stock.
She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by,
Thinking, "If I wasn't so nice, I would blacken his eye."

With each cookie she took, he took one too,
When only one was left, she wondered what he would do.
With a smile on his face, and a nervous laugh,
He took the last cookie and broke it in half.

He offered her half, as he ate the other,
She snatched it from him and thought... oooh, brother.
This guy has some nerve and he's also rude,
Why he didn't even show any gratitude!

She had never known when she had been so galled,
And sighed with relief when her flight was called.
She gathered her belongings and headed to the gate,
Refusing to look back at the thieving ingrate.

She boarded the plane, and sank in her seat,
Then she sought her book, which was almost complete.
As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise,
There was her bag of cookies, in front of her eyes.

If mine are here, she moaned in despair,
The others were his, and he tried to share.
Too late to apologize, she realized with grief,
That she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief.

How many times in our lives,
have we absolutely known
that something was a certain way,
only to discover later that
what we believed to be true ... was not?

Wishing you vibrant health

oh wow pistachio

i really LIKED that crazy cookie thief LOL
how superdecent of him to share HIS last cookie with you

that's such a cool way to say how we ( especially myself)
have preconceived notions that end up just hurting me
and it is always cool to open my eyes

and

EXPLORE

what's really real and a lot better than my pre judgements of what i think "is"

beautiful!

thanks for posting this pistachio

well i don't have a poem but i was just thinking of the value of a single smile
especially when deep in thoughts that keep trying to figure itself out
but never does cuz

u never get the answer sometimes from thinking about the question too much
and I just

woke up one day thinking
WHY am i here?
couldn't find an answer
so i dared not to care

then a bright yellow winged bird wisped my eyebrows
with its fluttery flight
and i closed my eyes for a second
to hear the hummingbird's concentrated ceaselessness
as it took nectar from hibiscus

i still couldn't figure it out
and shrugged my shoulders
and just went on thinking
"better not to care, will never know anyways"

til i walked down the sidewalk and a man with his brown hat tilted sideways and wearing a seriously dark homburg looked up at me and smiled
not with his lips but with his eyes
and then i knew

the answer

reading some shel silverstein tonight as little's bed time story (he picked it out too, cool kid!)

my hair grows to my toes
i never wears no clothes
i wraps my hair around my bare
and down the road i goes.

heh heh.

heh heh

cool poem coco
yeah. my hair used to be sooooo long that i could "wear it" like a long flowy dress if i wanted to ( well, maybe a short dress LOL)

it used to be down to my waist
but now it is a few inches above my waist

i read your shampoo thread

thinking about the apple cider thing
hmmmm...

i lurves shel silverstein too

Casabianca
by Felicia Hemans 1793-1825


The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though child-like form.

The flames rolled on–he would not go
Without his Father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud–'say, Father, say
If yet my task is done?'
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.

'Speak, father!' once again he cried,
'If I may yet be gone!'
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death
In still yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud,
'My father! must I stay?'
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound–
The boy–oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea!–

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part–
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.

how very sad
geez

the images were so vivid though

la_veronique Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> how very sad
> geez
>
> the images were so vivid though


It's acutally based on a true story that took place towards the end of the 1700's. The boy was the son of the commander who stayed at his post and like the others on board passed away. This was a poem that some of my older family members learned as children and it came up recently during a conversation about something else which is how I became aware of it.


*****

On a more positive note, I found this one on another forum, not a poem, but nevertheless, humorous:


The local news station was interviewing an 84-year-old lady because she had just gotten married -- for the fourth time.

The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about what it felt like to be marrying again at 84, and then about her new husband's occupation.

"He's a funeral director," she answered.

"Interesting," the newsman thought.

He then asked her if she wouldn't mind telling him a little about her first three husbands and what they did for a living.

She paused for a few moments, needing time to reflect on all those years. After a short time, a smile came to her face and she answered proudly, explaining that she first married a banker when she was in her early 20's, then a circus ringmaster when in her 40's, later on a preacher when in her 60's, and now, in her 80's, a funeral director.

The interviewer looked at her, quite astonished, and asked why she had married four men with such diverse careers.

"Easy, son," she smiled. "I married one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go!"

Wishing you vibrant health

A Virginal

No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately.
I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness,
For my surrounding air hath a new lightness;
Slight are her arms, yet they have bound me straitly
And left me cloaked as with a gauze of aether;
As with sweet leaves; as with subtle clearness.
Oh, I have picked up magic in her nearness
To sheathe me half in half the things that sheathe her.
No, no! Go from me. I have still the flavour,
Soft as spring wind that's come from birchen bowers.
Green come the shoots, aye April in the branches,
As winter's wound with her sleight hand she staunches,
Hath of the trees a likeness of the savour:
As white their bark, so white this lady's hours.

Ezra Pound

Never heard of Pound before, but found his background information to be interesting. Thanks.

Wishing you vibrant health

Frogs At School

Twenty froggies went to school
down beside a rushy pool
Twenty little coats of green
twenty vests all white and clean.

"We must be in time", said they;
"First we study, then we play;
That is how we keep the rule,
when we froggies go to school."

Master bullfrog,grave and stern,
called his classes in their turn,
Taught them how to nobly strive
likewise how to leap and dive.

From his seat upon a log,
taught them how to say "Kerchog!"
likewise how to dodge the blows
from the sticks that bad boys throw.

Twenty froggies grew up fast,
bullfrogs they became at last.
Not one dunce among the lot,
not one lesson they forgot.

Polished to a high degree,
as a froggy ought to be,
Now they sit on other logs,
teaching other little frogs.

George Cooper

When One Thing Dies
The Whole World Dies

When The Whole World DIes
One Thing Dies


-take a moment.

TinyFlower Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> When One Thing Dies
> The Whole World Dies

Few words but a very profound statement
But what happens to a small part does affect the whole.

Wishing you vibrant health

Yay! Yay! Thank you for this thread!

I love all of the poetry so far.

This one has always been one of my all time favorites. It's one of those poems I've read so often that I could probably recite it by memory. I wish i had all of my favorites committed to memory... I've always admired that ability/dedication...I'm too lazy i guess.

Anyway, here's one of my faves;

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Aloha Nui Loa,

Greg

A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices. - William James

There is no pill that can be swallowed,
There is no guru, that can be followed, - Michael Franti (Pray For Grace)

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion. - Albert Camus

My second favorite from Mary Oliver;

The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Aloha Nui Loa,

Greg

A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices. - William James

There is no pill that can be swallowed,
There is no guru, that can be followed, - Michael Franti (Pray For Grace)

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion. - Albert Camus

nice.

more shel, he is my favourite by far, these days and always...

Ricky was "L" but he's home with the flu,
Lizzie, our "o" had some homework to do,
Mithcell, "E" prob'ly got lost on the way,
So I'm all of love that could make it today.


V

I love Shel too. I had the pleasure of meeting him many years ago in Key West Florida... as cool as you would expect.

Some of my favorite poems have made their way into the world as songs. This one has been a favorite for years. sometimes i do song fasts where I only listen to one song all day. I use this one often;

Pray For Grace
by Michael Franti

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

I take a moment to myself
So I can be myself
To feel myself
And be real myself
Life's addictions and afflictions
Cause abrasions from their friction
Sometimes, it's easier to live in fiction
I can run, but I can't hide
From the pains that
Reside deep down inside
There is no pill
That can be swallowed
There is no guru
That can be followed
There's no escapin'
From my own history
Those that I hurt,
And those that hurt me
I was dead for a million years
'Fore I was born and
I'll be dead for a million more
After I'm gone
So I live, to give somethin'
That can live on
Like the way you hum a song when the music's gone
Like the warmth on the sand
When the sun goes down
And I'm sittin' with myself
Nobody else is around but,

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

Been a long, long time
Since I been away
Been a long, long time
Since I felt this way
Been a long, long time
I found the words to say
How much I'm grateful
For my life today
'Cause under every cup
You might find a nut
Behind every corner
You might get jacked up
At the end of every rainbow,
You might find gold
The last bite of your sandwich,
Hope you don't find mold
'Cause none of us
Can live the perfect life
The kind that we see on nick at night
And sometimes, we all
Just lose sight
Of the pain that will guide us
From dark into the light
We fall down yes, but we get up,
And sometimes we just need
A little bit of love
To help make it
Through another day
Into the night, into the light,
Into a Saturday
So in the morning when I'm waitin'
For the sun to raise
And my head's a little foggy
Like I'm in a haze
I remind myself that
Everything is gonna be okay
I take a breath, slow down and say....

Why must I feel like this today
I'm a soldier but afraid sometimes
To face the things that may
Block the sun from shinin' rays
And fill my life with shades of grey
But still I long to find a way
So today I pray for grace

Aloha Nui Loa,

Greg

A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices. - William James

There is no pill that can be swallowed,
There is no guru, that can be followed, - Michael Franti (Pray For Grace)

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion. - Albert Camus

The above definitely encourages candid reflection of self.

Count your garden by the flowers
Never by the leaves that fall
Count your summers by sunlit hours
Don't remember rain at all

Count your nights by stars, not shadows
Count your friends by smiles, not tears
And when you remember what you've done
Count your memories by hopes, not fears

Count your youth by innocence,
Never by the age you are
Count those you miss by how near they feel,
Never by how far

Don't count your days by storm and rain,
But by vivid sunbeams
Count your strength by goals, not losses,
Count your life by wishes and dreams

Author and title unknown

Trees
by Joyce Kilmer
1886–1918




I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.