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Array ( [sid] => 26341 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Ode to the Poets [time] => 2003-11-03 03:53:22 [hometext] => for the unspoken, unheard, and unknown poets of the world [bodytext] => Oh, a poet you say? (snicker)
how unique and charming.
But how quick their acid tongues to bite
as you walk away.
"Suicidal opiate,or worse..degenerate.
Poor dark, and lonely victim of the night!"
Our reputation is tainted and askew.
It draws up images of dark, and smoky
rooms.
With pen or type we express our emotions.
Lost loves, the tear stains of the broken
heart. Theses are oft' the style and set
the norm. But we can lighten your mood
with pastel shades. Paint pictures in your mind both bright and gay.
Set light winds drifting through fields of
yellow daisies, and sprinkle sunshine
dancing cross the misty meadows in
the morn.
Practitioners of the ancient art of verse.
We paint with shadows and chisel with
our words. We laugh louder, sing more
often, and feel more deeply!
Think us not alone in our dark foreboding
towers. We hear the sweet whispers of
the daughters of Zeus,
and are their humbled slaves. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 55 [informant] => raindog435 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
Ode to the Poets

Contributed by raindog435 on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 03:53:22 AM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems



Oh, a poet you say? (snicker)
how unique and charming.
But how quick their acid tongues to bite
as you walk away.
"Suicidal opiate,or worse..degenerate.
Poor dark, and lonely victim of the night!"
Our reputation is tainted and askew.
It draws up images of dark, and smoky
rooms.
With pen or type we express our emotions.
Lost loves, the tear stains of the broken
heart. Theses are oft' the style and set
the norm. But we can lighten your mood
with pastel shades. Paint pictures in your mind both bright and gay.
Set light winds drifting through fields of
yellow daisies, and sprinkle sunshine
dancing cross the misty meadows in
the morn.
Practitioners of the ancient art of verse.
We paint with shadows and chisel with
our words. We laugh louder, sing more
often, and feel more deeply!
Think us not alone in our dark foreboding
towers. We hear the sweet whispers of
the daughters of Zeus,
and are their humbled slaves.




Copyright © raindog435 ... [ 2003-11-03 03:53:22]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Ode to the Poets (User Rating: 1 )
by kalika_vidya on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 04:12:05 AM AEST
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A very good poem...I hear the sweet whisper of Athena..K


Re: Ode to the Poets (User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_Kalicharan on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 06:43:40 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Well written!! Loved this--->
"We paint with shadows and chisel with
our words. We laugh louder, sing more
often, and feel more deeply!"
Jenni



Re: Ode to the Poets (User Rating: 1 )
by lovingcritters on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 08:31:27 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I just loved this poem....especially the part right at first. Isnickers) They do it to all of us. But what they fail to realize is that not everyone can write poetry. So why aren't they?
No matter how unimportant we may be, it's a gift, and it's given free....So let's all rejoice...we poets we! They can laugh, but ask them to write a line or two...might be a different color,different hue!
Wonderful poem, I read it three times already
lovingcritters
ConSue


Re: Ode to the Poets (User Rating: 1 )
by irshprnss on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 09:52:28 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
They don't know how hard it be
To be the few that are we
So let them snicker let them laugh
For we influnce the future, relive the past
wisper, wisper, that they do
But hunny, they ain't got nothin on you

Great Poem!!!!


Re: Ode to the Poets (User Rating: 1 )
by PhantomsLDY on Monday, 3rd November 2003 @ 10:11:46 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I agree with all that has been said before me.
The only reason they snicker and make fun is because they are jealous that they can't write poetry as beautiful as this.




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