Granny Kari M Knutsen: Favorites

Sep 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Alan W Jankowski

I often wonder if what I feel,
Is just an illusion or something real,
For when these feelings begin to start,
I wonder if they’ll break my heart,
Or will they stoke the burning fires,
That masquerade as my desires,
And turn my inner burning lust,
Into something built on trust,
Because these fires always burn,
And so it seems I’ll never learn,
For when these feelings do begin,
I always seem to dive right in,
Again I’ll get my just desserts,
All the heartbreaks and the hurts,
Again I’ll heed this passion call,
And again in love I will fall,
And should this love come to an end,
I hope my heart will somehow mend,
So I can pick myself up off the floor,
And fall in love, again once more.

12-21-09.

I'd have to say this is a fairly well liked poem...heck, I even like this one myself...

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

I will give you...

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Ocean Blue

I will give you...

... My eyes,
To mirror your sighs,
I will give you my smile,
To dance with your smile,
I will give you my hands,
For you to paint the beauty
Of the fertile lands
In the hills of Tuscany.
I will give you my open arms
To surround your shoulders,
When you feel cold during the winters.
I will give you my soft kisses
To dry up your tears
On your pale cheeks
So I can chase your fears.
I will give you my memory,
For you to remember
Our forgotten kisses, if any.
I will tell you some of my secrets,
Even the ones from the Pool,
In case you show interest,
And there you would think I'm a fool.
And of course I will give you
My Ocean Blue,
For you to dive into.
But I will never give you
Anything that can hurt you.
Somehow,
You need to know
That I can only give all this
When you come back from the abyss
To which you've decided to depart,
Leaving me alone to dream of you,
With art.

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Writing Is Wealth For The Mind

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Joe Cole

Writing Is Wealth For The Mind

You can be destitute, dressed in rags
But you're a tycoon with pencil and pad
Your office a park bench under the sun
Your income the poem or song yet unsung
Your boardroom the corner of some shopping mall
Where multitudes gather
When you, the writer calls
No microphones needed
Nor fancy backdrops
The words of poetry ring forth
Crowds now do stop
Amazed that a man
Unkempt, dressed in rags
Can bring peace to the masses
And new heart to the sad
All this with no money, just pencil and pad
This poetic tycoon
Shone in a world so sombre and sad

You don't need wealth or even a great education. All you need is a love of words and a love of people
Then you to can be a king, a queen amongst men

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

There's To Much Going On

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Joe Cole

There's To Much Going On

Like I said there's to much going on
You know Mucro not everybody can be as good as you
In fact not everybody wants to be
I read here that quality is not what it used to be
So what! Surely the fact that people are posting is enough
Criticism well we all know my views about that
I would much rather read twenty poems
Simply written, easily read
Than one poem with words I barely understand
People write, people read and therefore become better
Writers in time
I have never have made any pretence that I'm a brilliant poet
Simply because I'm not and I know my own limitations
And some people enjoy what I write
Its not all about getting a following, popularity
People I've never heard of comment on what I write
We don't all have the brilliant education
We don't all have the flare and gift of language
What we do have is the right to post without undue negative criticism
That is what democracy is all about
Obviously the bigger following a poetry site gets
Then the greater the differential between the brilliant
And the not so brilliant
I have to be honest, I get fed up with reading about self mutilation
About people wallowing in the depths of despair
But I accept that it is their right to write and post
I've had my say

Stop the *******, it's not needed

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

On Criticism

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

SG Holter

On Criticism

When your palm feels
The shoulder of another,

Let it be to encourage;
Not to hold back.

Lifting is rich.
Pulling is for the poor.

Growth is as human
As breath.

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

a poem or two

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Riot

a poem or two

you think you know a poem or two?
you think you know the words of glue
that stick to minds like they always knew
you think you know a poem or two?

you think you know the hurt and pain
that rymed its way through fire and flames
you think you know a poem or two
that you tried to translate as "i love you"?

you think you know a poem or two
because your family won't give to you
you scribble by scribble
babble and babble about the pain that comes with scrabble

you think you know a poem or two
that talks about me not telling you
you think you know a poem or two
because you take pictures
of ****** "***** yous"

you think you know a poem or two
because you scar yourself with posters of blues

you think you know a poem or two
but i don't know me
and you don't know you

you think you know a poem or two
because you can't seem to find your bruise

i think you know a poem or two
but you don't know me
and i don't know you

i think you know a poem or two
just because you displayed that bruise

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

From The Mountains To The Sea

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Joe Cole

From The Mountains To The Sea

Come, let's take a journey from the mountain to the sea
And study natures wonders put there for you and me
We won't go by car or take a railway train
We will travel at natures pace, travel by natures ways

Together we will wander the pleasant green country paths
There's no reason for us to hurry, let's make this journey last
We'll stroll beside the chrystal streams 'neath skies of azure blue
Study wild flowers of every shade and hue

Come the evening shadows we will stop and take our rest
Find a soft and sheltered place where we can rest our heads
No candles or electric light will we ever need
Just a canopy of twinkling stars to cover us as we sleep

We will wake up with the dawn to a chorus of singing birds
Wake up to the greatest music that man has ever heard
Quench our thirst from the crystal stream then we'll set out again
We finally leave the mountain slopes and meet the grassy plains

No sign of habitation, no human voices heard
Just the sights and sounds of nature, of deer and soaring birds
Bees and butterflies sip nectar from the flowers
As we wander slowly on and do not count the hours

We journey ever westward, following the sun
Occasionally a dark gray cloud and cool refreshing rain
For us time has no meaning on this journey to the sea
To be at peace with nature is the only thing we need

Suddenly in the distance a glimpse of shining blue
Our journey is nearly over as the sea comes into view
I will look back in wonderment at the things that we have seen
Nature in her full glory, mountain, plain and stream
.................

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

In the Collection of my Willoughby Poems, in my soon published book of poems and more... and in my upcoming novel "Forever and Beyond." Supposedly written by my protagonist William Willoughby in 1814.

Jan 2015 Granny Kari M Knutsen

Granny Kari M Knutsen

In the Collection of my Willoughby Poems, in my soon published book of poems and more... and in my upcoming novel "Forever and Beyond." Supposedly written by my protagonist William Willoughby in 1814.

TO ALL FALLEN BROTHERS

To all courageous lives ended with sword, cannon or bullets of lead.

To all Brothers… No longer our enemies instead…

For Power and Ambition even Friends will part.

To silent fallen Heroes always true to a loyal heart.

To Courage always ready to fight for what thought right.

To Brave Men convinced Honour is being Victorious,

Now certain bones on battlefields are never Glorious.

To Sons taught to hate by greedy, ambitious men.

To many a young Mate we shall never see again.

To gallant Officers who believed what was told,

Always willing to give, but hardly getting old...

Eloquence never asking: “Parlez vous…?”

Or merely educated: “How do you do?”

On battlefields God was indeed hard to find,

And we wondered; is He on your side or mine?

Perhaps never wanting to be near,

Seeing what we are really doing down here...

Again infinite bones in rotting uniforms everywhere,

Whilst no one hardly remembers or troubles to care...

What we believed in, how we spoke or who we were.

People even snubbing whether whatever left of you,

Is in the rags of a Redcoat, in dark green or French blue,

But needless to tell… still much of a man,

For yet your bones in a muddy field give what they can.

Whether an arm, a leg or a scull… all just grounded up,

To raise a much better crop… for Life will never stop.

Just dirt to dirt... Man again fertilizing Mother Earth.

All the same, said never to be found lying around…

Bloodied buttons and buckles secretly hidden in hay,

Are polished and sold by those in need on a rainy day.

Again virility of spring...

Is in autumn quite a nourishing thing,

For Life still goes around and around in ring…

Even dressed in proud red, white and blue… more than two…

Maps and Rulers changed in less than a hundred years,

Ludicrous is our Hate and our Fears.

Do let us in memory of Confucius agree,

For seasoned veterans of war and intellect are we thought to be,

Saluting in attention with infinitely more comprehension,

We Honour You Forever still certain Humanity might never understand,

Honor, Glory and Victory are in Brothers holding out a Loving hand.

Col. RCEF Sir William Francis Willoughby Lindesay   England

KG GCB KP KT

Col. RCEF Sir Robert Eowan Lochlan McGregor          Scotland

KG GCB KP KT

1st. Royal Life Guards  1807 - 1810

13Th. “Jolly Ruffians “Rifle Company On Foot 1810  Portugal, Spain

13Th. Mounted “Wildman“ Rifle Company 1811-1814 Spain

1st. Royal Life Guards

Royal Cavaliers-Elite Force   Secret Intelligence Service 1814

                          Willowbee Manor, Lindesay Hall, Yorkshire 1814

                                      CONFUCIUS 551 - 479 BC

                                                Golden Rule
                                     Basic Rights for Humanity

      Do not do to others what you do not wish to be done to yourself.

Copyright©2013 by Kari M. Knutsen