Your Poetry Dot Com

Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!

Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+

Custom Search


Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	02-June 19:55:38 AEST

Menu

· Our eBay Store

· Error Submit

Poetry

· Submit Poetry

· Least Read Poems

· Members Listing

· Old Site Post 2001

· Old Site Pre 2001

· Poetry Archive

· Public Domain Poetry

Stories

· Stories (NEW ! )

· Submit Story

· Story Topics

· Stories Archive

· Story Search

Community

· Our Poetry Forums

· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

Site Help

· FAQ

· Feedback

Members Areas

· Your Account

· Members Journals

· Premium Sign-Up

Premium Section

· Special Section

· Premium Poems

· Premium Submit

· Premium Search

· Premium Archive

· Premium Topics

Fun & Games

· Jokes

· Bubble Puzzle

· Cross Word Easy

· Word Hunt

Reference

· Dictionary (Rhyming)

· Site Updates

· Special Content

Search

Top

Help This Site

· Donations

Others

· Moderators

Our Other Sites

· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

Social

Array ( [sid] => 132217 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => A Chorus [time] => 2007-02-28 06:17:24 [hometext] => [bodytext] => When at the moon-lit cold nights
Came out we all the girls an boys,
To be amused with hide and seek,
The long low wailing howls of dogs,
And heinous shrills of the little owls,
Cast fear, I became horrid recoiled,
Threw each of us a handful of dust,
To the direction of ominous harbingers,
To impede an instant invading calamity.

Often then in the foggy morn we found,
A robbed body in the thick shrubs,
With perforated chest, broken bones,
Lacerated belly, or stabbed heart,
For a few pennies, or a ring of gold.
Some fierce animals in the human form,
Disturbed peaceful silence of the village,
As flings someone a big boulder,
From the height, down into the deep water,
And the waves raise commotion around.

The bold moved indignant, the timid horrified,
The women young and old circumscribed,
The widow with broken bangles dishevelled hair,
And moved around her, striking hands,
On the scared faces with force full,
The head clouts binding around the waists,
With loose lurking ends swaying behind,
Circled they bending with rhythmic beats,
Protested against the deed producing voices,
The clamorous cries of lamenting chorus,
Spread horror in the pastoral spheres,
Making death for the alive too frightful. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 219 [topic] => 44 [informant] => MuhammadShanazar [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )

A Chorus

Contributed by MuhammadShanazar on Wednesday, 28th February 2007 @ 06:17:24 AM in AEST
Topic: Nostalgic

When at the moon-lit cold nights
Came out we all the girls an boys,
To be amused with hide and seek,
The long low wailing howls of dogs,
And heinous shrills of the little owls,
Cast fear, I became horrid recoiled,
Threw each of us a handful of dust,
To the direction of ominous harbingers,
To impede an instant invading calamity.

Often then in the foggy morn we found,
A robbed body in the thick shrubs,
With perforated chest, broken bones,
Lacerated belly, or stabbed heart,
For a few pennies, or a ring of gold.
Some fierce animals in the human form,
Disturbed peaceful silence of the village,
As flings someone a big boulder,
From the height, down into the deep water,
And the waves raise commotion around.

The bold moved indignant, the timid horrified,
The women young and old circumscribed,
The widow with broken bangles dishevelled hair,
And moved around her, striking hands,
On the scared faces with force full,
The head clouts binding around the waists,
With loose lurking ends swaying behind,
Circled they bending with rhythmic beats,
Protested against the deed producing voices,
The clamorous cries of lamenting chorus,
Spread horror in the pastoral spheres,
Making death for the alive too frightful.

Copyright © MuhammadShanazar ... [ 2007-02-28 06:17:24]
(Date/Time posted on site)

Advertisments:

Previous Posted Poem | | Next Posted Poem

Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more

All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.

Re: A Chorus (User Rating: 1 )
by needledancing on Wednesday, 28th February 2007 @ 07:36:06 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

this piece paints a very vivid picture of the things we never wish to see in life. It is okay to live in your safe little bubble..but step out and see what is happening...excellent piece esecially the end line Making death for the alive too frightful. Thank you

Re: A Chorus (User Rating: 1 )
by FRANCO on Wednesday, 28th February 2007 @ 08:00:49 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

well visualized poem on the subcontinent tradition where death is more painful to the living widow then to the dead husband.
thanks for bring this evil practice to the light.

FRANCO

Re: A Chorus (User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on Thursday, 1st March 2007 @ 11:33:25 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Very candid write. Extremely moving.
Peace, Laura

While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com