Creative Writing Thursday
The Thoughts of the Man who Is about to Reap his Reward.
As a boy I sat and squirmed
hoping it be over so I could run
As a teanager I sat and staired
Wanting to be elsewhere and have fun
As a young adult I turned a listening ear
Taking note of the words they said on stage
In my manhood I took down notes
Knowing that this would help me to the next age
As a father I was distracted a bit
Trying to control kids yet learn from the speaker
As an older man I reflected with joy
Knowing the strength it had given me when i was weaker
As a grandfather I looked on with heritage
Knowing that it was this truth that would carry for generations
As a feebile man of many years I commented seldom
But held a knowledge and wisdom from Genesis to revelations
And now in my last meeting I will attend
to the young ones I ask your ear to lend
Grow from that squirming state
And may the truth you never berate
add your creative writings.
Comments
well, I have nothing creative to add, other than what a good poem!
Posted by: toopriddy | September 9, 2005 01:16 PM
oh, and check out this cool keyboard, I want one bad
http://www.artlebedev.com/portfolio/optimus/
I am drooling, a key-saver (like a screensaver) how cool, anyways checkout the link
Posted by: toopriddy | September 9, 2005 01:19 PM
At first I wasn't so sure... but I have to admit, that's a very secksy keyboard.
Posted by: Captian Jonathan!!! | September 9, 2005 10:57 PM
A light in the world
Like No other
She is my inspiration
My rock, My Mother
She guided and loved me
Took my hand
And showed the way
On an unknown land
She showed me the truth
Showed me what I was capable of
Showed me what I was worth
Deserving nothing less than true love
Sheltered and inspired
She gave me a choice
I'm more than a girl
I'm a woman with a voice.
Posted by: Gabs | September 11, 2005 05:02 PM
small wooden man broken in the corner
the light hits his face
his eyes gleam with a dull lustre.
cracks in his frame are apparent
the flaws of imperfection inherited
from being cast in the mold of imperfect parents.
his smile constant in silence or conversation
no voice of his own to give revelation
to the thoughts that pass through his wooden skull
controls to manipulate through the gaping hole
cut into the fabric of where he should have a spine
his mind attached to a bottle his eyes red like wine
his strings cut much to his dismay
and he'll be free for a year this may
waiting to be a real boy not just a dummy
to have a real daddy and to have a real mommy
his lies growing with each passing day
that he has a wooden body he can't put away
this constant burden makes him cry
and the watering caused a branch to grow from his eye
attached to the branch under his eye.
problems beset everyone even him
his unhappiness is apparent even under his skin.
Posted by: Unapologetically Javann | September 12, 2005 10:48 AM