Because I'm a Poet - A Poetry Thread

Nice Thread

I wrote a poem more than two years ago. A firnd of mine recorded it as a song and it will be released as on a CD soon.

I wrote three more poems and was encouraged by a friend to send it to a record company. I did thinking that nothing will happen but now I have a contract to write for them and four of my poems will be released as songs this year with more to come.

This is one of them

The crossroad

In die donker van die nag in Getsemane alleen.
Drup die sweet van U voorkop bloed op die steen
Beangs vra U,”Vader... moet U die koste van my bloed verhaal”
“My geliefde Seun vir hulle sonde moet Jy betaal”

En U sê; “Vader net soos wat U dit bepaal”

Dertig stukke silwer was die prys vir U Heer.
Met soldaat en swaard kom hy om U te arresteer.
En met 'n soen om te verraai gee hy U weg.
Maar u weet Vader se wil gee hom die reg.

En U sê “neem my weg”

In oordeel staan u voor die priester van die Jood.
Een vir een vra hulle vir U dood.
Verdedig jouself is wat hulle sê waar?
Is Jy die seun van God? Praat man, hoekom staan jy net daar?

En U sê “Ek is”

Die haan se kraai seël U verraad.
Pilatus was sy hande en Barabbas word vrygelaat.
Dra die kroon seun van God.
Terwyl hulle slaan en spoeg en met U spot.

En U... sê niks?

Nege-en-dertig keer het die sweep geval.
Dit giet U bloed met elke knal.
Dra hierdie kruis, kom laat jy in die pad val.
Na Golgota om die prys te betaal.

En U bly net stil?

Met ergelose kap spyker hulle U vas aan die kruis.
Genadeloos word u omhoog gehys.
Hulle spot en vloek en wag vir u dood.
As jy die seun van God is bevry jouself koning van die Jood.

En U sê:” Vader vergewe hulle want hulle weet nie wat hulle doen”

En daar in pyn langs U aan die kruis.
Weet ek, ek verdien dat hulle my lewe eis.
Ek is 'n moordenaar en 'n sondaar en ek leef sonder eer.
Maar U, U is onskuldig Heer.

En U sê, vandag sal jy my in die Hemel vereer.

En in my donkerste uur toe die dood my kom kry.
Weet ek vir die eerste keer in my lewe, ek is vry.

En U sê

“In alle ewigheid sal jy by My bly”

Jesus, U bloed maak my vry.

Sorry this is the English version

The Crossroad

In the dead of the night in Gethsemane alone
As the sweat from Your brow turns to blood on the stone
On Your knees you pray, Father please take this cup away.
My Beloved Son for their sins… You must pay.

And You said, “Father, have it Your way”.

30 pieces of silver was the price for You Lord
And so he came to the garden with soldiers and sword
With a kiss to betray he gave You away.
But You knew the prophecies spoke of this day.

So you said, “take me away”.

You stood in judgment before the priest of the Jew
One by one they testified against you
Defend Yourself, can what they say be true.
The son of God!!! I demand, tell me, are You?

And You said,” I am”


Three times the rooster crowed to seal Your betrayal.
Pilot washed his hands and freed the sinner from jail.
Wear this crown king of the Jew…
as they spat and hit and made fun of You

And You said... nothing?

Thirty-nine times the whip struck Your back
Tearing flesh from your body with each crack
They gave You a cross and lead You away
To the hill called scull… our debt to pay

And You said... nothing?


They nailed you to the cross and lift it up high
And stayed in that place to watch you die
They mocked and cursed and blasphemed you
If you are the son of God save yourself, king of the Jew

And you said,” Father forgive them for they know not what they do”

And there on the cross as my life drained away.
I knew I deserve to die that day
I sinned and I murdered and lived by the sword
But You, You are innocent Lord.

And You said, surely You will be with me in paradise today

And as I died on the cross in agony
For the first time in my life I knew I was free

And You said

“My peace be with You for all eternity”.


Jesus by Your blood I am free.

Written by Johan Theunissen ©
2012-10-09

Mr.bump for poetry!
:)

The Feminine

Desire her
not
she lives only
in purity
possess her
not
she knows only
freedom
she is...
the garden
enter
through your open heart
she will
not
overwhelm you
make this garden
your home
fill
your lungs
with her essence
whisper "thank you"
with each exhale
give to her
all that you truly have
she will blossom
in response

-Janine

The Words You Choose


Words are indelible, once they are spoken,
Creating thought forms – alive and unbroken,
A dynamic medium, to create or destroy,
Be watchful of words, you select to employ.

Speak them or write them – you give them life,
With power to slice, through one’s heart like a knife,
To comfort or slay, a friend or a foe,
Your intention is the motive, that only you know.

A word is a tool, or a weapon you use,
To heal or to harm - whichever you choose,
Words once released, cannot be withdrawn,
So choose your words wisely – too late once they’re gone.

Misconception can cloud, one’s sincere intention,
As words are too often, a useless invention,
When trying to describe, the “things” of the heart,
Or weightier subjects, you need to impart.

And when words are used, for personal expression,
Remember they yield, a lasting impression,
You can’t take them back, once you set them free,
They’re mirrors of your heart - so choose carefully.



© 2009 - Rhonda - all rights reserved

This poem was published in my first collection - a book named "Pieces of One"

Last Edited by Yes I Did !!!! on 05/12/2013 01:35 PM

Hey OP how did you decide you were a poet? Did somebody tell you or did you decide on your own?

The reason I ask is I know someone that calls herself an artist but she paints by the numbers pictures then declared herself an artist and wasn't kidding. She couldn't even stay in the lines!

Loving the shares! Thanks!

Well, my personal feeling is this - there are Artists, and there are artists. There are Poets, and there are poets.

The first I capitalize because they were born to be.

The second I don't because they were born to learn.

I am a Poet.

A writer writes...a fighter fights...a kiter - KITES?

With some people it just is. You are who you're meant to be one way or another. Some people WANT to be artists so badly they'll call themselves that, or they'll train themselves to do it all "by the book", but when they're truly creative, you can see the weakness in their form. The beauty is only skin-deep. Real Art moves you...flows...is beautiful. It inspires you. Makes you feel a little better or a little worse about things. It makes that inner-part of you tickle a bit.

Last Edited by ElectricKoolaid on 05/12/2013 01:42 PM

(melody)

can we /
find some life /
in
this shade /

I wonder why /

the nightime /
is /
so great /

We Haven't /
Much Time /

So What /
has Happend /
to us /

Maybe /

some rhymes /
can escape /

heaven /
for

all for me /

is it you /
or have /
I gone wrong /
again /

so where have /
you been /

cause all /
night long/

your in my /
songs /

again and again

im crazy in the head /
I hear your colors play /

My dimensional glasses /
hide my face /

Paerhaps we can imagine /
A world more great /

Can we Pro Create ?

And Sit in this Shade ?



Have Good Day All

:Voila8: Well said OP. :)

Novalis: Hymns to the Night

Over I journey
And for each pain
A pleasant sting only
Shall one day remain.
Yet in a few moments
Then free am I,
And intoxicated
In Love's lap lie.
Life everlasting
Lifts, wave-like, at me,
I gaze from its summit
Down after thee.
Your lustre must vanish
Yon mound underneath --
A shadow will bring thee
Thy cooling wreath.
Oh draw at my heart, love,
Draw till I'm gone,
That, fallen asleep, I
Still may love on.
I feel the flow of
Death's youth-giving flood
To balsam and ether
Transform my blood --
I live all the daytime
In faith and in might
And in holy fire
I die every night.

very nice

I just put this together a couple of weeks ago if anyone's interested in more of my "work" (more like play). :)

[link to www.facebook.com (secure)]

It's my poetry page.

Keep in mind the open doors

And find out where they're hiding

Take a step into the light

That always seems so blinding

Enjoy they days as time fades away

And seek out the treasures worth finding

The Bottom Line

Wholly
holy
whole
one spirit
one perfect soul
through kindness, gentleness and grace
we will begin to recognize this
in our own face
peace
can only be
when chaos is embraced
as the truth of me
letting go
the illusion of control
and it's concept of
the individual soul
opens the door
separate no more

-Janine

to read later...

to keep the poetry flowing in the hearts and minds and souls of all humanity...

A poem I wrote to music; a song without a voice. "bottles"

ONE MAN'S LIFE

dated
infatuated
procreated
elated
anticipated
dedicated
cooperated
overrated
disintegrated
irritated
humiliated
aggravated
infuriated
retaliated
escalated
desecrated
incarcerated

copyrighted-mmmoore

BRAVO!!! I love all these poems, but really relate to this one. :)



Keep that stuff coming, people! This is great. I love it.

For some reason I can't quote you but THANKS ElectricKoolaid. 8^)

To me the sun rises & sets on you,
So these last few days have been nothing but darkness.

What is this complication we find ourselves in?
This last gasp for the air that's between us
Is the final volition of our will
To love.

We've cast ourselves like stones upon the pond
And bounced a bit,
Hoping that the air would carry us,
That the water would rebound us
Together.

And the hope is still in me, quiet like a voice
So sudden-still
As if a whisper
That I cannot yet hear.

A heavy heart is all I need
To rid myself of hate and greed

didnt read it all but its probably good!!

man, the simple stuff hits the hardest. I say, this is absolute truth. absolutely

until you reach a point where it doesnt matter and you're just a bosss