Neopoet

Wed, 2012-04-04 14:00

the damp of coffee beans

Black the mirror on the wall
with her reflection you us enthral
with vanity's disguise
you deceive your eyes
you move along you swan
in the damp of coffee beans
among the has been...s

Oh don't take that as anything but me
having a lark in the dark
while you bark.

Mr Wolf man
Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Fri, 2012-04-06 01:22

born ugly

things I contended with
I was abandoned as a baby
I was native with blue eyes
I had no chin
crooked teeth
just odd and got shunned in grade five

Good points
I could draw well
was reading to class in grade five
all the time articulated well
liked poetry even then

but as a native child in a mostly white
red neck style town we got a lot
of crap I knew I would never be
handsome good looking and popular
like the others Had severe acne
as a teen too and anxiety disorders
was drinking at school but was quiet
and got along with the teachers and enough
upper class students to pull this off

I was a snob for a long time
looking down at people until it dawned on
me they were just like me

Ive accepted Im ugly and untalented
and dont fit in anywhere now
I have no one that I sit with at the coffee shop
and thats okay

I have my little Sharpei dog I go out walking
with in the woods and this is fine
my little family here I tend too and love them
and they love me

I still dream though to think what a day might
be to be attractive though
vanity eh??

ah well

then I wouldnt have these eyes
wouldnt have this view
wouldnt have learned all this empathy

thats a gift

Thank You for responding to this my Ann

author comment

Fri, 2012-04-06 03:55

Steve Ian.T replies

I walked the street
There in the cafe window was a form
I felt the power there
Then those eyes took my thoughts to another level
They though blue had dark memories
Who would be so cruel I thought
“The world and its rotation,”
The reply came softly
This took me aback

There in a form, contradiction
A sense of one’s own hate of a form.
Yet a love of all men from this stranger to me.
Ages of combat within this haven of words
I looked at the words
They spilled over the sidewalk
Settling on my own thoughts
Hold on there, words I thought,
Easy does it, as I tried to sort them.
They laughed and cried all at the same time.
Emotions like waves hit me with a speed of an express train

“Stop” I cried as I could not cope.
Please let me see the reasons, and then the play
Let me join in the turmoil but in a gentle way
There you are!
Now let’s start at the beginning.
Abandoned you were
Then an afterthought that you were singular.
That you belonged to a people
A people degraded by ignorance
Early times of self
Thoughts of being ugly
Then shunned by others
“I was called Snaggle tooth so what!”

There you send me a picture drawn.
A reading spoken softly, by one so young
A mind that could understand words even then
Such a smart ass
You could even walk with others
Above your lowly station.
In those places we know well.

Problems you say to me.
My skin was so wrong, it shed itself
This scourge made me more uneasy.
I found a drink or two equalled things
Though for a time I became more equal.
Then that damn mirror of life
It showed me, I was the same as them.

“Now this was where your thoughts were wrong!”
You said that you accepted that you were ugly.
This also told you that your talent was lacking
Even to the point of not belonging.
You sit in that window on the world
Drinking a coffee thinking of past days
Now I have some news for you.

Look out of that damn window
Watch yourself walk down the street
Say hello to this day that you can live
Pick up those extra words strewn on paved ways
That spilled from you onto the sidewalk.
Know that all your words are listened to by many.
Know also that the little dog loves you.
Know that his love is unconditional
Walk as you are loved by many
There is no mirror that can tell you otherwise
You are you, and we all love you.
So as you sit in that window.
Know that we can see you.

Yours, Ian.T

PS:- Maybe I have told you off, lol.....

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Fri, 2012-04-06 06:30

'Scuse I for jumping in to

'Scuse I for jumping in to say Ian that is terrific the 'poem' comment you make here, I intrude but felt I had to, Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Sun, 2012-04-08 02:57

.. lies latent and excited to express itself;

"Born ugly" Maybe your having difficulties in your childhood in fact helped you to see the other, more important sides of us humans, not looking at the outward to find the spirit of a person, but deeper to see the whole person, where the character lies latent and excited to express itself; and this you sure have done Mr Wolfman. Ann.
It did me too.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Fri, 2012-04-06 02:58

I have observed beauty lies in ones eyes... i know many white

I have observed beauty lies in ones eyes...
I know many white
SKIN ONES
MARRIED TO WOMEN

As black as a kettle's bottom

and

handsome guys with gals
without any match

and

lovely most beautiful gals
flaunting guys
who behave like bulls
and have faces worse
than my verse...
you are lucky
now your ego pulled you up some how
today you are number one
and
as a poet second to none...
even those who claim to own
Neopoet know it too....

was a snob for a long time
looking down at people until it dawned on
me they were just like me

Ive accepted Im ugly and untalented

loved

Fri, 2012-04-06 06:32

'scuse I agin I love this:-

"As black as a kettle's bottom"

Nordic gal

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Fri, 2012-04-06 21:07

Thanks ma'am for the visit

and
this is factual
some day I shall compose a poem on

'''White hubby
Black spouse ''

it may be revealing too. thanks

loved

Fri, 2012-04-06 04:05

Steve

Loved this one as it showed the base of being and things we stand on to see the world, wether they are shaky or not, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Fri, 2012-04-06 14:58

no great writer or poet

Not a voltaire or christian anderson

i know what i am
what I did
can do
ego survived me yes
and almost destroyed me

I just am appalled by ignorance
and mans blind following because
it suits his desire

I helped form ideologies for others
at times
and listened in bars for those coming
from the wilds for refreshment
like the Wild West

Im glad Im a poet
that I do care when I break through
the survivalist mode

I know who I am today
and wont just sit back
always

I have worked hard in my times
and for ideals stood and had ltitle
where I could have just belonged
and gained the rich slop

and all this
this is just words

beauty of poetry
and poets

author comment

Sun, 2012-04-08 03:08

Steve

The words that fall from your pen are as a new road to many, the piece I wrote was as an introduction to you as you sit there thinking and evolving into a poet held in great respect by many.
My write was as I use to do for people as I met them in various places, a scan and a thought, then let the others write through me to hold that person close to infinity. A bunch of words strewn out along the paths of yesterday today and tomorrow as a guide to either.
Somewhere in there is a message, be it from the history, or today so that tomorrow is a challenge and a joy, if you understand my drivel lol.
It was good to stand at the window, and watch that mind work so hard, Yours Ian

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Sun, 2012-04-08 03:50

Invasion, No, intrusion No ,ONLY amodified version No? OK

Steve comment poemised with ex-post -facto acceptance hopefully Ian…
The words that are engraved by your pen
are as a new road to many,
the piece, my composition
was as an introduction
to you as you sit there thinking
and
evolving into a poet
held in greatest esteem

My work was I use to do
for people as I met them
in various places,
a scan and a thought,
then let the others write through me
to hold that person close to infinity
ere his finality.

A bunch of words
strewn out along the paths
of yesterdays, todays and
tomorrows
simply as a guide to all..

Somewhere in there ,
is a message,
be it from the history,
or today
so that tomorrow
lies a challenge and a joy,
if you understand my drivel
It was good to stand at your window,
and
watch that mind work so hard…

loved

Sun, 2012-04-08 09:02

Loved

To do this you have read it so well and understood the overall meaning.
I just wanted to put it in such a way as not to intrude into Steve's ways and that I was just an observer, Thanks for your write, Yours Ian

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Sun, 2012-04-08 13:53

I AM SURE STEVE

won't mind it
but I doubt whether
he will ever pass by this way again
so my effort will go in vain
u may extract and message him
at ur free will or wish

loved

judyanne

Sun, 2012-04-08 14:37

esker

and sunlight slashs like a flare (I think you mean slashes or slash’s (as in slash is`)

such descriptive and word usage unique to you that I so love
I have been away too long and had not realised how much I missed phrases such as
‘words behind for ears to hear
slip like a noose about the heart
and neck
…. until too late the tragic
clown turns at the door
and its You forlorn’

and the final oh mirror mirror
- just love it
you are a true poet esker
love judy

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Sun, 2012-04-08 20:31

Branches off into the usual poetic mode

thanks for the word correction on Branches or ownership with the apostrophe

parables and fairytales we had them both
for the crucial development
of youth All theory and then we hit school
for the small minded world of our town
and the reality was the opposite of the
reality of the ideals taught

our creed was simple
treat everyone equal
ignore the bullies
dont become a fighter
avoid that simple brand
and read books
Home is for family
protect that.....

politeness and keep the yard
clean dont become too loud
sedans and simple wear
and dont throw your garbage
on the ground
dont get drawn in to others
troubles

try to think about God now and then

pretty easy things to abide by
and Ive tested every one

Becoming a poet was a desire since
childhood
being able to write striking lines
in a simple form was a worthy task

Im glad that Im popular here for this
out there its easy to roll with a crowd
or group just throw away ones ideals
ones creed but Im sentimental
at times and Im glad staying alone
for the most part has allowed me
this vantage

Thank You Judy

author comment

Mon, 2012-04-09 06:23

"wipes the hot spittle

"wipes the hot spittle
 life's no riddle 
and sunlight slashs like a flare"

This is worthy of The Bard. And
there's a whole philosophy in them
enough of a challenge for any man/woman,
to develop into something new from something old.

Your images create new images,
like mirrors reflecting mirrors
reflecting mirrors
giving the "Escher" world,;
the holographic vision of something else,
while its all here and now just the same.

Nordic cloud :)

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Mon, 2012-04-09 21:03

How so very true

Vanity is wicked
and
the smiles
consume the egos
and
ignorant snarls throw
back the change....
simply excellent, Sir

loved