Poetry Page XII…


The chase certainly has inspired some great poetry…

Here is page ix for poetry about the chase, Forrest or any other Thrill of the Chase related topic. I am hoping poets will create new poetry and place it on this page.

If you would like to peruse theΒ Β verse on the first page of poetry clickΒ HERE.

Second page isΒ HERE

Third page is HERE

Fourth page is HERE

Fifth Page is HERE

Sixth Page is HERE

Seventh Page is HERE

Eighth Page is HERE

Ninth Page is HERE

Tenth Page is HERE

Eleventh Page is HERE



206 thoughts on “Poetry Page XII…

  1. Woven wood of nest of Ole ,
    Mothers wings to keep me warm .

    Septal steps wings spread ,
    And feel flights air apon my chest .

    Oh bolden wind that I’ve not known,
    Lifting me higher then before.
    Unseen force of some loves source ,
    Guiding wings for whats in store.

    Pushed and turned to keep me safe ,
    To see the beauty of that place.
    Flowered fields of footprints past ,
    Bluest rivers of memories cast.
    Now I am perched and warm at last.

    Thank you Forrest Fenn for pushing me against my will .



  2. …………….My Ancestor In Me……………..

    David was an unconventional lot,
    As he donned the name of Crockett.
    Mountains he trekked and acclaim he got,
    Now… I bet he never had dry socket.

    Many heard his great power of speech.
    You’d always hear something new and learn.
    But even with vision most would beseech,
    A man like that never had Welder’s Burn.

    Chose to fight for the Texas revolution,
    Kept vigil at Alamo in a Mexican sack.
    His death a controversy of execution,
    Until it was said, “They had to break his back!”

    Relishing his events in my recollection,
    Time has shown me those discomforts three.
    So I shall not cry out in pain’s objection.
    !!! For there is some Davy Crockett in me!

  3. As you have gone into your silence alone ,
    is it your heart, forgotten by the darkness of your silence,
    can you keep your secret , can you be so bold.

    Fall from your ascended perch,
    wings spread and catch the summer air;
    Feel again , break the silence that a paints your heart . ο»Ώ

    Rise in flight , You as bright as the star ,
    shine apon the silent of hearts ,
    so they may also see the bright star you are. ο»Ώ

    The Passion of your touch minds rush
    To see your brush , its softest touch
    unveil a heart , set them free
    Let them fly from high perch
    , painted and free .

    by Mr.D

  4. Well I’m back home from my trip now… great penning Iron Will and Mr.D I enjoyed your words…. have a great night my friends….. until next time… see ya

  5. Summertime Dreamin’

    Why is that when it has just turned Spring,
    That I’m already having Summertime dreams?
    Maybe it’s the Superbloom that fuels my imagination?
    I cannot tell from my curious station.

    Speaking of work, I have Friday off!
    All my respect sent to a brave women called Dolores Huerta.
    That’s right it was a women born on April 10th not just Ceasar Chavez,
    Who created the motto SΓ­, se puede.


    • Great penning 23kachinas…that’s right, Dolores, a co-founder of the “United Farm Workers” should shine as much as Chavez …….

      Have a great night my friend and remember
      ” Yes one can “……

      Thank you, until next time…. see ya

  6. ” The Coal Miner ”

    At 4:00 A.M. I wake, I try to make no sounds,

    I work within a coal mine, deep within the ground.

    My lunch pail it is ready, with a pie dish on the top,

    I’m running kinda late And have no time to stop.

    Arriving at the coal mine, I walk into the door,

    My coveralls are frozen, wet from the day before.

    My body it will thaw them, so I head on to the mine,

    Another day below, to earn an honest dime.

    I grab my carbide light and my trusty ole pick axe,

    While standing at the mine shaft, I take a last look back.

    I walk into the blackened mine, long before there’s sun,

    While others ride the train out, because their shift is done.

    When I reach the bottom, a small shaft waits for me,

    On my knees I crawl, my carbide shines to see.

    While laying on my side, and with my pick in hand,

    I chip away at coal, as steady as I can.

    My mind it drifts away, to help me fight the cold,

    I remember in my childhood, the stories mama told.

    The day’s that I spent fishing, with Dad along a creek,

    My children up above, their kisses on my cheek.

    The day it slowly passes, my arms are tired and sore,

    I proudly keep on chipping, the boss man he wants more.

    When my day is over, a coal car waits for me,

    I ride up to the surface, so bright that I can’t see.

    My workday it is over, I head back to my place,

    I walk into my front door, with smiles upon their face.

    My children they are waiting, all sitting on the rug,

    They jumped and run up to me, with open arms and hugs.

    To me my day was worth it, because they depend on me,

    My Time now with my family, we’re happy as can be.

    Tomorrow I will rise, before the morning shine,

    And do it all again, down in that cold cold mine…….

    By: Focused

          • I don’t know who that someone would be SL but I take that as a compliment….thank you….
            I know Loretta Lynn does concerts at the Lincoln theatre…. her most famous song was “Coal Miners Daughter”…. she would be my first guess to whom “on occasion” in D.C. You could be referring to…
            have a great day SL….see ya my friend πŸ™‚

          • Focused,
            Not Loretta Lynn. Did, however, have the opportunity of having a nice conversation with this lovely lady awhile back. (She even read my palm, of all things!) One, great and humble human being, for sure.



    • So glad to see your penning focused!
      As usual you painted vivid pictures.
      Thanks for sharing!
      Hope you had a great trip to Texas!

      • WY Girl,
        I’m glad you liked my words and thank you….
        Yes, I had a great trip through Texas I went to the San Antonio zoo, and also down on the river front. Then on to Big Bend National Park, then back up through your neck of the woods… perfect temps πŸ™‚ now I’m looking forward to going to New Mexico …I will be taking horses out there, it should be a nice ride….I’m gonna give it a little more time though… good luck to you in your chase WY Girl … have a great evening…until next time…see ya

      • Thank you very much Tammyo for your kind words. I’m glad to hear that you enjoy my poems, just knowing that makes it worthwhile to me…. :-). Have a wonderful night my friend and thank you again…… until next time…. see ya

  7. Forrest Fenn fairly frequently foists false, fixed, formative feelings for foolish folks, furnishing fantasized false facts, finally fabricating feeble, failed, finishes, far from fruitful, fortuitous fulfillment!

  8. The ballad of Neitzel

    I am a man of constant searching
    I’ve hunted for treasure all night and day
    I bid farewell to old Seattle
    The place where I was born and raised
    [chorus] (The place where he was born and raised)
    For seven long years I’ve been a searching
    No treasures here on earth I found
    For in the Rockies I’m bound to ramble
    Even my wife won’t help me now
    [chorus] (Even his wife won’t help him now)
    It’s fare thee well to my old island
    I never expect to see her again
    For I’m bound to wander them northern mountains
    I’ve been looking for where warm waters end
    [chorus] (He’s been looking for where warm waters end)
    The chest is hidden in some lost canyon
    For many years where it may lay
    I’ll search till it’s found by me or another
    Or until I am sleeping in my grave
    [chorus] (Until he is sleeping in his grave)
    Maybe your friends think the chest is just a legend
    That box of gold you’ll never see
    But there is one promise that is given
    I’ll meet you all at Fennboree!
    [chorus] (He’ll meet you all at Fennboree)

    • Good job randawg… thanks for the smile πŸ™‚ I enjoyed that …
      I’m sure Dal is combing Lummi Island too…. I’ve read that there was treasure found there a few years back by a avid treasure hunter named Devlin….. I’m sure Dal would like to find another ” Thomas the train”…. πŸ™‚ maybe Dal will be careful who he loans his pick axe to from now on…….

      Have a great day and thanks again for the ballad…. until next time… see ya

    • lol, nice ‘original’ poem there randawg – loved that old Dylan version too..

      ..maybe you should sue him, for stealing it from you all those years ago πŸ™‚

      • Wiki says “Man of Constant Sorrow” was written by: Richard Burnett in 1913 but I first heard it in the 2000 film: “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”.
        I’d like to think Mr Burnett wouldn’t mind that Dylan, the Soggy Bottom Boys, and I “borrowed” it.

    • Always nice to see you, SL. Thank you for your kind words. The Little One is due August 18, and my arms can’t wait to hold her. I love the link with the beautiful booties.

      • Pdenver ..August 18th is my daughters birthday too… it’s gonna be a special one for you my friend….enjoy the moments…. see ya

        • How wonderful to share this, Focused. I’ll bet she has her father’s heart wrapped around her little finger. I’m looking forward to the special times. I already know she loves her feet. πŸ™‚

  9. ” Those ”

    Struggles are among us, like chapters in a book,

    Those who need a caring hand, just notice as you look.

    Show the world your someone, not passing by in life,

    Vow to make a difference, by helping those in strife.

    Those standing on a corner, with their cardboard sign,

    Wanting food or work , just trying to survive.

    Those in a lonely alley, with needles in their arm,

    Self medicating meds , that do their body harm.

    Those who live in shanty shacks, no water in their home,

    Living day by day, on gardens they have grown.

    Those who live in hunger, so their children can live on,

    Stretching every meal, until the last is gone.

    Those deep in depression, curled up on their beds,

    Fighting all the demons, that bounce within their heads.

    Those in their cardboard box, on the streets that they call home,

    On freezing winter nights, chilled down to the bone.

    Those children who are orphans, no parents to guide their way,

    Behind a chain link fence, when they go outside to play.

    Those within marriage, with bruises on their face,

    Trying to get the nerve, to leave that painful place.

    These are just a few, in this earthly home we’re in,

    Please take the time to care, and help your fellow man.

    We all can make a difference, but first we gotta start,

    Just lend a helping hand, you’ll feel it in your heart……

    By: Focused

    P.s.- we can make a difference my friends……. until next time…see ya

      • Thanks for the “amen” jdiggins… I hope everything is going good for you my friend… all is good here… πŸ™‚ until next time…see ya

        • Then add another amen focused. No, two, – one for each of us. I’m glad all is good. For me, right now, I am feeling extremely fortunate in so many ways. And having you for a friend is one. Have a wonderful Spring day my friend. Until next time…..

          • Your gonna make me blush… πŸ™‚ you are a true friend jdiggins..nice spring day here….thank you…
            See ya my friend

      • Well pdenver , I just wanted to remind everyone to lend a helping hand…. goodness goes a long ways.. like I said “We Can Make A Difference”

        Have a great day pdenver and enjoy spring as it bursts around you….

        Until next time… see ya my friend πŸ™‚

        • We can, my friend.

          Looking out my window, snow covers the ground. My Spring flowers must be thinking, “Yes, this is Colorado for you.” πŸ™‚

          • 75 degrees here pdenver… I know, rubbing it in.. πŸ™‚ the grass is green , hardwoods are covered with leaves, flowers bloomed…. spring for sure :-). Love it !
            See ya my friend

          • Yes, you are, my friend. I’m glad you’re enjoying the beautiful season. πŸ™‚

    • Missed this one when you penned it my friend but just scrolled back to see what I missed. Glad I did! What a beautiful poem!

    • my fav poem i’ve read here (so far) Focused

      you managed to peel the convenient veneer from perceived ideology, and show the raw reality of too many common struggles that exist in too many lives all too frequently, of late

      Bravo! πŸ™‚

      • Curious hobbit, Thank you for the bravo my friend…..I’m glad you liked b my words…
        Yes reality is tough on some people, and we CAN make a difference..have yourself a great day nikan….. see ya πŸ™‚

  10. ” A Distant Land ”

    Though I live in a land down under,

    I read the poem and often wonder,

    And with my toes down in the sand,

    I dream about a distant land.

    As the ocean slaps the shore,

    I dream about his gold galore.

    Someday soon I’ll cross the span,

    I dream about a distant land.

    As for now I’ll sit right here,

    Soak in the sun, and drink my beer.

    But as my drink turns warm and bland,

    I dream about a distant land.

    I pull my Aussie hat down low,

    Kick back relax before I go.

    My eyes are heavy, and life is grand,

    I dream about a distant land.

    When I awake from silent slumber,

    I’ll leave my home from way down under.

    And with a poem, and books in hand,

    I’ll fly off to a distant land…………

    By: Focused

    P.s.- this one is for you curious hobbit….. I hope you like it nikan…… until next time…see ya mate πŸ™‚

    • Why thank you SL …. special is friends like you who appreciate my words…. until next time… see ya SL….. πŸ™‚

  11. Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
    of a man and his treasure trove,
    he started out from Santa Fe,
    and into the hills he drove.

    Fenn is a mighty mountain man,
    his Jeep was strong and sure,
    that box of gold joined him that day,
    for a three hour tour,
    (more or less, nobody knows for sure).

    The road he chose was very rough,
    the sturdy chest was tossed.
    because of the courage of fearless Fenn,
    the treasure would be lost.
    the treasure would be lost.

    So join us here to discuss the chase
    you’re sure to get a smile,
    from all the mental ward refugees,
    here at the home of Dal!

    • Good job randawg…thanks for the smile πŸ™‚ I have a poem I wrote called ” the mental chase ” or something like that…I’ll try to find it and repost…I think you’ll like it…

      Have a great day… see ya my friend

  12. ” My Mental Chase ”

    While sitting on an airplane, reading a provided book,

    A poem written by Forrest Fenn, I had to take a look.

    It talked about a treasure, hidden for all to search,

    I was hooked, from then on , it got me off my perch.

    Since then I’ve had many dreams, lying there in bed,

    Many trips into the mountains, Β scratching at my head.

    Now I see the words he wrote, they twist within my mind,

    Trying to decode a poem , that’s taking all my time.

    Now I look at numbers , on signs along the road,

    Could it be a hint to me , of Forrest’s heavy loads ?

    This happens all the time, no matter where I go,

    Other times I walk in circles, knee deep in the snow.

    Some say I’m going crazy, in this golden chase I’m N,

    Floating like leaves of autumn, upon a chilly wind.

    Eye see where they are coming from, and wear I’m going two,

    Butt most of all eye have made, friends as nice as ewe.

    Eye will C ewe in the mountains, that’s wear Eye will B,

    Looking four a treasure, left their 4 ewe and me.

    Win Β I’m Β finished looking, and I’m old and grey,

    Then Β put me N a mental home until my final day…………………

    By: Focused

    P.s.- here’s the repost Randawg ….. See ya my friend

  13. A knot that is tangled,
    Dangled in the wind

    My color is empty,
    My life is lasting,

    Wiping tangling,
    Twisting turning,

    Taunt by nature,
    Blank by course,

    Ever enlightened to see,
    The feeling to be set free.

    Pulling this way and that
    Uncrossing untangling

    To set me free
    You must first see ,
    I’ts me

    • Beautiful link SL.. thanks for posting it… I especially like the horses..

      Now let’s go breath the air before its gone….
      I plan on doing it horseback πŸ™‚

      Have a great day my friend…until next time…see ya

    • Great song and video, SL. I imagined myself running through the fields and falling down and laughing. I love the colors of the leaves. Reminds me of back home.

      • Am happy you enjoyed it, my friend. I think you once said that you had lived back east. Autumn is especially beautiful there.

        Now you have me imagining that I’m frolicking through leaves in Central Park with the sun peeking through the trees.

        Have a delightful weekend, my friend !


        • It is a beautiful time. All the years I’ve lived in New York, I’ve never been to Central Park. I’m happy your imagination could take you there to frolic.

          Have a wonderful weekend, my friend.

  14. SL, that video reminded me of a poem I wrote called “Cowboy’s Home” ….. I’ll repost that for you, I think you’ll like it… sorry about the reposts lately guys…

    Nothing like breathing the fresh air on horseback, in my poem I believe the cowboy understood that…..

    Have a great day… see ya SL

  15. ” Cowboys Home ”

    Been riding on a dusty trail, my horse and me alone,

    Looking for a special town , that I can call my home.

    Many years I’ve traveled, I’ve entered many towns,

    Just to ride on through them, always feeling down.

    The sun is hot, my hat is wet , my saddle dry and squeaks,

    Up Ahead I see a town, first one I’ve seen in weeks.

    Maybe I can get a bath, and start my life anew,

    My horse could use a blacksmith, he’s missing one back shoe.

    The town is getting closer, with every step We take,

    There’s something written up ahead, upon a wooden stake.

    I sit up in the saddle, to read what it might say,

    Upon the stake is written, the town name “Santa Fe”.

    As I ride into this town , the folks just stare at me,

    With my pistol on my side , I was dusty as can be.

    I rode up to a hitching post, then swung down off my horse,

    Suddenly a stranger spoke, his voice was rough and coarse.

    “Welcome stranger to our town”, “we call this Santa Fe.”

    ” Are you just passing through”, “or do you plan to stay?”

    Then he offered me a drink, on him , in their saloon,

    And told me where to grab a bite, over at the greasy spoon.

    The people there were very nice , everywhere I stopped,

    The hotel where I stayed the night and even the blacksmith shop.

    My dusty trail has ended, I think I’ve found my home,

    I think I’ll stay in Santa Fe ,and rest my aching bones.

    A week has passed ,since I arrived, at this special place,

    But I have yet to feel a smile, upon my wrinkled face.

    I dream of all the sunsets, That I’ve seen along the trail,

    Just My horse and me alone, no words can even tell.

    I’m packing up my saddlebags , I’m leaving at first light,

    This cowboys gotta leave this town, to me it don’t feel right.

    I’ve gotta have my open space, no walls to close me in,

    With Santa Fe behind me, my trail to home begins.

    My saddle it’s still squeaking, the sun is getting hot,

    This cowboy sure is thankful, for everything I’ve got.

    While riding along the Rio Grande, I look up to the sky,

    Thank you God , this trails my home, I’ll ride it till I die……………

    By : Focused

      • Sorry I missed this jdiggins, I hope your day got better…. hey next time your feeling sad just remember that poem that you inspired me to write called ” Campfire Stories” …. you know the one about flatuant wind :-)…. that should put a smile on your face πŸ™‚

        You bet jdiggins nothing is as refreshing as a long trail ride in the mountain air….

        Have a great night my friend… see ya

          • Truth be told my friend, my nickname was Tooter. No joke. My dad stenciled it on everything he made me. Tooter’s Teeter Totter, Tooter’s Workbench, etc.
            I love (d) beans. πŸ˜‰

          • Sounds like you came by the nickname honest jdiggins… πŸ™‚ so my campfire poem fits ya perfect… see, I knew what I was penning… have a great night my friend… see ya

      • I’m glad you enjoy my words pdenver, just knowing that makes my penning worthwhile… you guys keep me going…thank you my friend…. have a great night pdenver…… until next time… see ya

  16. ” Placid Lake ”

    When standing near a placid lake,

    The mind can drift away.

    Winds subside and calms the wake,

    Of waters back in the day.

    Life is memories, making more,

    Slow down your hurried pace.

    Down beside a peaceful shore,

    Only then you’ll know this place.

    Then upon this mirrored lake,

    Can you see your distant past ?

    You see the life you make,

    See reflections in the glass.

    Your hourglass is heavy,

    True but don’t mistake.

    Reflection from the levy,

    Upon your placid lake.

    The sands will soon be gone,

    Calm your waters wake.

    Still your life upon,

    Waters of your placid lake….

    By: Focused

    P.s.- if you read down the first word of every sentence it says “When the winds of life slow down, only then can you see your true reflection upon the calm still waters”

    God bless… have a great day my friends….. until next time… see ya

    • Focused,
      So much to ponder here. Thanks for allowing me to reflect into your looking glass. My hindsight is, well, embarrassing if you catch my drift. You have a great.

      • Good morning strawshadow…… with this poem I just wanted to say, make great life memories so that someday when looking back on them a person would enjoy them……

        Strawshadow, I’m with ya, some of my hindsight is embarrassing too πŸ™‚

        Have a great day my friend…… see ya

    • What a lovely piece Focused.
      We each have our own hourglass, and I fear that mine may
      be running low on sand, but the precious memories I have made, and am making, and yes, have yet to make are so precious. Thanks for reminding me of these memories. JDA

      • Your welcome JDA and thank you…… just flip your hourglass over JDA and make many more memories my friend….
        Have a great day…..see ya πŸ™‚

      • Thanks jdiggins πŸ™‚ remember smiles are free ….. have yourself a great evening my friend.. until next time.. seeeee ya πŸ™‚

        • I thank you my friend. Though, I believe it is not I who needs glasses anymore, rather my partner. It’s definitely cold when your only company thinks ur nuts. Kinda hard being the only one believing in me. I’m used to it, but geez…
          My only human contact is reliant on spotty reception.
          I’m blessed to have you, and others here though! πŸ™‚

          • Your not the only one believing in you jdiggins…. I believe in you my friend πŸ™‚

            As far as spotty reception, I have the same problem here…

            Hang in there jdiggins, tomorrow is a new day ..

            Have a great night… until next time… see ya

          • Jdiggins – stop being so silly!

            you have more fans (who believe in you) than you may readily identify. and even if ‘spotty reception’ is your best reception, then it would still (easily) suffice in supporting my ‘lotsa fans’ statement
            – albeit, quiet fans like me

  17. A strange thing happened to me,
    On my way to Yesterday.
    It was the day before.
    Maybe it was a Saturday?
    If it happened today,
    I would remember the day.
    Anyway, it wasn’t today.
    It wasn’t Yesterday.
    I can’t remember the day.
    Was it a Tuesday?
    I know it happened on my way to Yesterday.
    A strange thing happened!
    But I can’t remember the day.

  18. Double Koru

    Best friends are close,
    But not too close.
    Back to back they thrive,
    And face to face too.
    If you look really close,
    You will see the double koru.


  19. ” HE ”

    He came into this world, to die for you and me,

    Causing lame to walk, causing blind to see.

    He walked throughout the desert, roaming town to town,

    Speaking words from heaven, in a lengthy woven gown.

    Followed by believers, to hear his mighty voice,

    He said we have a home, that’s if we make the choice.

    Through him a door is open, to a home as white as snow,

    Large enough for all, who choose they want to go.

    As he gained attention, word spread throughout the land,

    Some they turned against him, this new messiah man.

    In anger caught and bound him, and beat him with their whips,

    Through the blood and torture, only grace fell from his lips.

    They nailed him to a cross, to prove to every man,

    That they would not accept, righteous in their land.

    His blood was dark and red, with thorns around his head,

    Believers knelt and prayed, for their messiah now was dead.

    They placed him in a tomb, and sealed it with a stone,

    Guarded by some soldiers, who were pacing to and from.

    Three days slowly passed, the stone was rolled away,

    Just to find a robe, there where messiah laid.

    Soldiers hit their knees, for they knew his words were true,

    He open up a door, to a home for me and you.

    From that day on his love, spread throughout the lands,

    He was a true messiah, with healing in his hands.

    Many came with baskets, with fruit and special things,

    And left them at the tomb, an offering to their king.

    My friends please don’t forget, how “HE” has paved the way,

    Enjoy your time with family, on this awesome Easter Day …….

    By: Focused

    P.s. – I just wanted say Happy Easter to everyone….. until next time…
    see ya my friends…

  20. Thank you Focused. Happy Easter to all the dreamers out there.

    Never give up on the big picture of your beautiful life and what it means to live it well for others.

    • Your welcome 23kachinas….your words are very true my friend. Happy Easter to you and your family… until next time… see ya

  21. How much more can one man give
    to settle up a score
    Is it not enough, all he has
    surely he can do more
    At the end of the day
    what must he pay
    For each of us to say
    “It is finished”
    Now let us pray

    • Wow! Very good penning Treader.. thank you for your words my friend… I enjoyed them…have a great night… until next time…see ya

        • Your welcome…and thank you for those kind words… I’m glad you like my penning… just knowing you appreciate my words make it worthwhile to me….. as long as others enjoy them I’ll continue…

          Again thank you for yours….. see ya my friend

  22. “Forgive”

    Our journey is not measured, by what we see, but feel,

    It’s sought within the solitude, alone, quiet and still.

    Within a hearts forgiveness, sown for only then,

    A journey in yourself, to rise from deep within.

    Theres a magic in the silence, a healing, kinda sorts,

    Locked within your fortress, your lonely solemn fort.

    Breech the walls around it, escape and start to live,

    Escape into the solitude, forgive, forgive, forgive…….

    By: Focused

    P.s.- find your solitude my friends……. until next time….see ya

  23. This isn’t a poem but I entertain myselves.

    A chat with myselves:
    Where do you go after a day?
    I go to the Poetry Page XII of course,
    There’s something for everyone,
    There’s dventure, glory, beauty, heartache
    And funnies. And gory?
    But, isn’t that a very inclusive society?
    Why, yes it is thank you for asking,
    There’s something for every single one.
    What about the doubles, something for them?
    Yes, they stop by occasionally.
    And the triples, the sixies, the twelvsies?
    Ummm, I don’t know about the twelvsies,
    Are they from Texas? Perhaps?
    Or, are they the Fourth-heensies?
    The thirt-tweensies?
    Shut up, I’m reading Poetry Page XII.

  24. Through My Eyes
    By Brian Chenier

    You don’t know me or what I’ve done
    You don’t care where I’m from
    So I have a question for you
    Why do you judge me the way you do

    I wonder what it is you see
    Every day as you pass by me
    What’s on your mind, and in you head
    Looking at me on my cardboard bed

    All I have left in this world is here
    But all you see are the cans of beer
    You try not to look or stare
    But I see your eyes, I see the glare

    The disgust I see it in your face
    As if it’s me that’s a disgrace
    But if you knew what I’d done
    That look might be a different one

    You go to work all clean and shaved
    On a street of gold that’s nicely paved
    But you have sent me off to fight
    Without a care for my future plight

    The drugs and beer, the homelessness
    The disheveled look and the tiredness
    None of that is a choice I’ve made
    I was a soldier of the highest grade

    You don’t see that, you don’t care
    Why should you, life isn’t fair
    I don’t want pity, especially yours
    But spare a thought for those that fight your wars

    Note: This poem is exactly as I saw it online.

    • Beautifully stated. How many are guilty of those stares, not knowing the price that was paid by the man or woman, now homeless, probably mentally scarred, from fighting for the freedoms we all enjoy. Look inside the person, not AT the person in need. JDa

  25. Sky Chaser

    Give me the Sky,
    I know what it needs,
    It’s only meant to be free.

    You shouldn’t want to own the Sky,
    If you try you will only make it cry.
    That is why it rains, while it’s running away.

    The free will never disagree with me.
    They will only disagree with you.
    Go find your piece of Sky that money can’t buy.


  26. titled bury me with my boots on
    bury me with my boots on so i can walk away
    I found a land of treasure upon this earth where i cant stay but I will stand for glory all along the way for it is the good in all that i will walk twords
    I can only hope in the here after they will except me with my boots on as i walk the road unknown i guess if i get kicked out i will at least have my boots on just my way of escaping the norm. have a good day to all word smiths. Jb ad titan.

  27. Just having fun, its been awhile.

    It was said the shadow knows,
    By the warm sun he is exposed,
    Sly and witty is the fox of note,
    Sad his beauty ends with a coat.
    Please dont get me wrong,
    You are the voice of my song
    And high above the wings of birds,
    Shall the maiden of the Opera be herd.
    With a little soap and bubbles spray,
    Clean the slate between friends I pray.

  28. “An Exercise in Patience”
    by Blex

    The winter’s snows, they slowly melt,
    inch by inch, day by day,
    it won’t be long before summer is felt,
    and all the snow has gone away.


    The winter’s snows, again they melt,
    inch by inch, day by d….


    The winter’s snows, once more they m….


    The win….




    Um, hello?


    Ah! Ok, then! *ahem*….
    The winter’s snows, they finally melt,
    inch by inch, d….


    (Ah, @#&$%@$#&! Just forget it!)

  29. Yo ho, yo ho, a searcher’s life for me.
    We analyze, research, bicker, and blog,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.
    We look under rocks, and every crevice and log,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.

    Yo ho, yo ho, a searcher’s life for me.
    We Google all night and in the day hunt the blaze,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.
    We look up creeks and down canyons, we marvel and gaze,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.

    Yo ho, yo ho, a searcher’s life for me.
    We harass, interrogate and bug Mr Fenn,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.
    But he just says “read my poem once again!”,
    Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.

    • randawg,

      You’re having too much fun… πŸ™‚ Enjoyed the poem.

      Just one question (yes I’m feeling dumb on this one). What do you mean by ‘Drink up me ‘earties’?

      I’m drinking a “Moose Drool” from Missoula , Mt (Big Sky Brewing Co.) but I feel like a traitor… I should be drinking a Rio Grande brew or a Santa Fe brew, or a Duel brew. πŸ™‚

  30. I started this book in a Poem . It’s a old from of writing that I am trying to bring into the modern age . I have no idea how to be a writer , so instead I write my thoughts instead. I hope you will like it . And please comment on this.

    Whispering winds of faded times past ,the trees’, the seas’ , the life , kept in the keep safe of our minds. The very place where we keep the secrets of our hearts heart. O still is mine heart , and silent mine ear, the listenings of the worlds embolden music appears. Boldn in crimsons tapered coat of courage gleams through the peering morning light , to eye …
    to sight … shining bright for all . Is it not for the brightness of ones light that each day brings new adventures of Navigating our vessel in colors of life. Painted by freedoms brush ; walk the fields of golden rye to edge of it and look to see the plains meet the mountains of knowledge while the rivers of wisdom ever flowing waters in which we all wish to drink from ..

    Written by

      • Hi pdenver

        Thanks for the reply . I started a book a few months ago , but I have other ideas all the time . I awoke one night a nd started writing this . Thanks again . =)

  31. Ex-Tenebris-Lux

    Will they ever set free their light ,

    Sitting high perched looking,
    Watching them go by .

    As we watch and meagerly fly by .

    Set free their sight,
    make way , safe flight
    to save ,
    Those caught in the night .

    Our will we set by and watch
    as evil wins the fight ?

    Einstein said once
    ” The world will not be destroyed by evil doers
    but by those who stand and watch ”
    Shakespeare asked a question , “To be or not to be ”
    Now that is the question is it not?

    God bless each and every one of you
    may his grace find your hearts and minds. Through the true light
    Jesus Christ.

    In love,
    Mr.D and Heather

  32. Shakespeare’s Love
    Time chimes and hands tickly move
    to find the one called the fool
    He sits shaded under a trees
    Hoping that all will look and see
    Whats in the book
    that keeps him a nook
    Behind the wood,
    will anyone come to look
    to see the spectacle he’s become
    A fool to love life’s very touch
    He’s dressed a clown
    and trows a frown
    But truth to be
    He is as wise as a tree
    Toils in time that passes by
    Wanders everywhere in his own mind
    To find a treasure left for all
    Cold and silent dose it call
    3 times chimed herd the ring
    Coming from the woods
    As He see’s the swing
    Pounded and perfected the mettle be
    Only the Adler can really see .
    Shakespeare always sat by a tree.

    Hope you like and comment .
    I have been writing these a lot lately…
    Who knows maybe I was supposed to be a poet
    or maybe something even better then that. =)

    Thanks Forrest for teaching me how to .

    Mr.D and Heather
    God bless you all.

  33. Sacred Hoop

    I walked into a tattoo shop,
    And asked for the Sacred Hoop.
    I showed the artist a picture.
    He’d seen it all before.

    I’d like to include the Om symbol, lotus flower.
    Because the East is where I once lived.
    I’d also like to include white, yellow, red, black.
    Because the West is where I once lived.

    I put a deposit down on his effort.
    I returned a week later and I was so pleased.
    He made the feathers better than I imagined.
    And added turquoise which made me smile.

    You can only have half a dream alone.
    It takes others to make a whole one.
    The artist even found a way to make my 3, 6 and 9 idea work.
    Now I wear it proudly upon my shoulder as a reminder.


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