Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"learnings" poems
We meet again, young debutante! but what next? shall we ponder over coffee, or dance through the streets with only our thoughts to keep rhythm? Let us ask thine friend, the caterpillar. nay, he says, neither are to be, it is a picnic that you seek. where the ground is warm, and the sun is hot. What a grand idea! I shall go right off to make thy picnic one of perfection! but where to start? to the butcher for meat. the baker for bread. ............................... Why must he bother me yet again? He stalks me like a shadow, claiming I talk to caterpillars. he’’s raving mad! A picnic? I will do no such thing? however, I can use this to my advantage. The butcher’s cleaver never looked so beautiful, the soft glimmer in the light, Oh but if i could get my hands on it! His back is turned, now’s my chance! ................................. Oh dearest! please have some ham and bread. come sit by me and tell me of your day! Oh I pray you tell me about your learnings! What beautiful hair you have! It glows like the sun shines, and your dress is even more beautiful than before, tell me, how do you radiate such beauty? ................................ I will lie. I can feel the cleaver in my bag, a weight on my shoulder, the meat and bread are horrid. he is so pathetic! Beauty is the way the blood spurted from his chest! glowing is how my face feels when it is splashed with his blood! gentle is the wind over his lifeless body. Oh what a grand picnic indeed!
0
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 6:15 PM UTC
The Picnic
We meet again, young debutante! but what next? shall we ponder over coffee, or dance through the streets with only our thoughts to keep rhythm? Let us ask thine friend, the caterpillar. nay, he says, neither are to be, it is a picnic that you seek. where the ground is warm, and the sun is hot. What a grand idea! I shall go right off to make thy picnic one of perfection! but where to start? to the butcher for meat. the baker for bread. ............................... Why must he bother me yet again? He stalks me like a shadow, claiming I talk to caterpillars. he’’s raving mad! A picnic? I will do no such thing? however, I can use this to my advantage. The butcher’s cleaver never looked so beautiful, the soft glimmer in the light, Oh but if i could get my hands on it! His back is turned, now’s my chance! ................................. Oh dearest! please have some ham and bread. come sit by me and tell me of your day! Oh I pray you tell me about your learnings! What beautiful hair you have! It glows like the sun shines, and your dress is even more beautiful than before, tell me, how do you radiate such beauty? ................................ I will lie. I can feel the cleaver in my bag, a weight on my shoulder, the meat and bread are horrid. he is so pathetic! Beauty is the way the blood spurted from his chest! glowing is how my face feels when it is splashed with his blood! gentle is the wind over his lifeless body. Oh what a grand picnic indeed!
Continue reading...
45
we are strong people - full and sure our purposes are not in conflict - just out of phase we share the need to achieve and to find new solutions we are intense people - busy and needed our hours are overfull - our agendas undone we share the delight of discovery and endure our learnings we are expectant people - determined and convinced, respectful and cantankerous we share an expectation of excellence - of success though unprepared and unbelieving we share the need for trust and commitment we share the dream of excellence
0
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
not quite excellence
From whips and chains To whips and chains, Earned by pigmentation. Suffered through tribulation Caused by the need for ********** Lead to the names of elders confusion The game of deception Lead to liberation. A work for works sake, Where all currency we make Is born for the government to take. A cycle of earnings and yearnings Where earnings go to learnings, And learnings go to younglings, Younglings go to work, And from work they live to buy things And from these things come the taxings Of all things to come. With housing comes heating where water is needed. These things to provide for the one to be marrying, And a child she may be carrying which leads to more taxing, And when this child grows and they don't need your waxing So begins your pension and time for relaxing. Living without fear of receiving the axing, And your wrinkles now potent define all your moods You may wish you had done what little other men could, Stand tall where some other pioneer may have once stood, But instead around the stump no room for a branch, Locked in by the cycle Left to pedal with no brakes.
0
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 5:35 AM UTC
ROOTS
I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his horn, And the sky-lark sings with me. O! what sweet company. But to go to school in a summer morn, O! it drives all joy away; Under a cruel eye outworn. The little ones spend the day, In sighing and dismay. Ah! then at times I drooping sit, And spend many an anxious hour, Nor in my book can I take delight, Nor sit in learnings bower, Worn thro’ with the dreary shower. How can the bird that is born for joy, Sit in a cage and sing. How can a child when fears annoy. But droop his tender wing. And forget his youthful spring. O! father & mother. if buds are nip’d, And blossoms blown away, And if the tender plants are strip’d Of their joy in the springing day, By sorrow and care’s dismay. How shall the summer arise in joy. Or the summer fruits appear. Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy Or bless the mellowing year. When the blasts of winter appear.
0
2.4k
The School Boy
*Another year has passed You're stronger now, than your past All the learnings you've had Made you much wiser and glad My dear love,  you've grown From a girl to a beautiful lady May your wisdom guide you Through your life in maturity Be happy for you truly deserve it Throw your woes afar, you won't need it For this is your special day From my heart, I wish you a very blessed and happy birthday!*
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
Happy birthday, love!
*Endings are painful, who doesn't agree right? they say that this is the end of everything you once had, or the time that you recall memories, no matter how bad, ugly or painful. But for me, endings are just new beginnings, yes something has to end, but something will also start. A new chapter of your story, a chapter wherein you can apply your learnings from the past, a new chapter wherein there's a room for a change, and a new chapter wherein you become stronger and tougher. Endings can somehow give us happiness, we can live without doubts, we can live without even worrying 'bout the past, and it can give us hope to keep striving and working hard. So, let us not worry about our life's ending, your story is what you will make it, and if it becomes the chapter you don't want, then be free and open for endings for it is a new start.*
0
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Endings
I reach out to hold beard of this old man, On balcony edge he makes me stand. "It's scary Grandpa, don't leave my hand." "Worry not my child, won't let you fall on this land." Sparrows chirping as we feed them sprout, Flying here and there, I laugh out loud. Pointing to the sky, "Look at that white cloud." I learned so quick, he felt so proud. Bought me different chocolates every night, I'd sit eating happily, enjoying every bite. Pretty dress, like a fairy, wings he made me wear, "Look at me now, I can fly, I swear!" "This is our stable," I point to the grass Grandpa carried me on his back at last. Like a horse, he'd ride smoothly on the floor Five year old rider, shouting "Off to the door!" Toys on the table, every day a few, Puppies and bears all red, yellow and blue, Tricycle and tents, small pillow fights, Without his kiss, I wouldn't sleep at night. We stole cashew nuts, while grandma prayed, Ate them quick, before her eyebrows raised. Small trips around the city in our car, So many stories and learnings he'd shower. Clapped at my dance moves to every song, Scolded me for everything I'd do wrong. Fell on my ankle, losing his balance once, Couldn't walk that day, but I loved him, I'd pounce We get a call, a call late at night, My parents pack bags, rush to the airport flight. Silence hurt every now and then, Mom and dad didn't know where to begin. "Grandma, say something!" But she doesn't He was here and then he wasn't? So much more to play, and so little time? I shed tear every time I remember his rhymes
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
Play
I reach out to hold beard of this old man, On balcony edge he makes me stand. "It's scary Grandpa, don't leave my hand." "Worry not my child, won't let you fall on this land." Sparrows chirping as we feed them sprout, Flying here and there, I laugh out loud. Pointing to the sky, "Look at that white cloud." I learned so quick, he felt so proud. Bought me different chocolates every night, I'd sit eating happily, enjoying every bite. Pretty dress, like a fairy, wings he made me wear, "Look at me now, I can fly, I swear!" "This is our stable," I point to the grass Grandpa carried me on his back at last. Like a horse, he'd ride smoothly on the floor Five year old rider, shouting "Off to the door!" Toys on the table, every day a few, Puppies and bears all red, yellow and blue, Tricycle and tents, small pillow fights, Without his kiss, I wouldn't sleep at night. We stole cashew nuts, while grandma prayed, Ate them quick, before her eyebrows raised. Small trips around the city in our car, So many stories and learnings he'd shower. Clapped at my dance moves to every song, Scolded me for everything I'd do wrong. Fell on my ankle, losing his balance once, Couldn't walk that day, but I loved him, I'd pounce We get a call, a call late at night, My parents pack bags, rush to the airport flight. Silence hurt every now and then, Mom and dad didn't know where to begin. "Grandma, say something!" But she doesn't He was here and then he wasn't? So much more to play, and so little time? I shed tear every time I remember his rhymes
Continue reading...
36
Listen. I'm not silent. In fact, I'm immensely talkative. I have a loud mind that produces battalions of statements daily. I am talkative. Words egress from my lips like rivers flowing to vast seas. I speak of my aspirations, dreams, and visions for the future. I brag about my strengths and feats that I have achieved. I impart my knowledge and discoveries to the curious. I am not silent. I share my experiences and learnings to elicit self-reflection. I exclaim my inspirations and interests with much enthusiasm. I was never silent. I admit my weaknesses, insecurities, and fears with difficulties. I enumerate my quirks and oddities despite hesitating. I disclose my secrets and sins that marred me. Why do you call me silent? I elaborate my thoughts and my whims on the spot. I sing my favorite rhymes, lullabies, and songs that are more than just mellifluous melodies. How can you call me silent? I utter peculiar lines and cryptic metaphors in varying tones. I narrate stories of friendships, love, romance, and passion in diverse forms. I spit verses of hatred, greed, atrocity, and apathy with vehemence. I scream what's taboo, ****** unconventional, and abhorrent unabashedly. There is absolutely no space in my mouth for silence. I am not silent and my lips are not closed. Your eyes are just covered, and you do not know how and when to listen.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
Silence
Beautiful Water Sweet Spring of Life You are more than enough as Thee Each moment I touch and retouch your beginning Willingness to Peace A moment in time Shared Memory Trickling thru An orchards flare Of Apples picked Macintosh then First Learnings Of the Truth Gladiolus on the Side Beauty Freed for A Mothers Love Ladder From Sustenance To Grace Something Sweeter Now Maple Syrup Tapped by Wooded Gate Johnny A Real Hero Changed the World Kindly And with Love One Thought His Pure expression Always the Same Gods Good Life Guitar String For the Earth His Arrow Split the Heart in Two An Apple Felled To the Ground Witness To a World UNComing Mournful Courage Put Away A soldiers Duty Paid Prince of Brotherhood St James You Now Are Made
0
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
Red Pen
Most of my relatives are distant, But some have the ability To bring me into an elevenses of life, And one particular person Is my cousin, Teresa. I call her Terry for short. That doesn't change how spectacular she is To me, though! Terry and her family traditionally visit my family To ring in the New Year. This New Year, just on a ten-minute car ride to a local town, Terry talked to me about her plans for her birthday, And her favorite books to read as of lately: Weedly-Deedly (about a nice dragon) And PuddleBooks, which include children characters Such as Yolanda Yells-A-Lot. A year or two backward, I wouldn't have taken the topic so seriously As I am one to easily laugh about anything Depending on what thoughts are in my mind usually. However, as long as I don't know fully the plot, the scenes Of what happens in such fiction as the PuddleBooks series, I am clueless to the lessons and learnings I could easily miss. There should be a warning everywhere Not to look down on what we think we outgrow As long as lessons are everywhere For all ages. There was also a time, Many moons ago, When my aunt had the cousins arranged Seated on a couch For a picture or two. I became irritated and uncomfortable Being claustrophobically shoulder-squished. Upset, I curled on the floor and cried In front of everyone in the room. The first gesture that Terry offered me Was a hand to pull me up from the carpet, Of which I accepted, Like a ***** toward a penetratingly loving Samaritan. Before my relatives departed today, My aunt told me how stellar Terry's memory is And can be. My aunt backed her claim strongly By telling me how Terry remembered a quiet morning Where she and I were the only ones awake And I made waffles for her. You don't have to go to a concert To make special memories. You're not required to know all Or be all To be recognized. And my cousin Terry, alive and well, An interactor for sure, Doesn't need the sky To be a soul of sunshine.
0
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
Teresa: A Soul of Sunshine
Most of my relatives are distant, But some have the ability To bring me into an elevenses of life, And one particular person Is my cousin, Teresa. I call her Terry for short. That doesn't change how spectacular she is To me, though! Terry and her family traditionally visit my family To ring in the New Year. This New Year, just on a ten-minute car ride to a local town, Terry talked to me about her plans for her birthday, And her favorite books to read as of lately: Weedly-Deedly (about a nice dragon) And PuddleBooks, which include children characters Such as Yolanda Yells-A-Lot. A year or two backward, I wouldn't have taken the topic so seriously As I am one to easily laugh about anything Depending on what thoughts are in my mind usually. However, as long as I don't know fully the plot, the scenes Of what happens in such fiction as the PuddleBooks series, I am clueless to the lessons and learnings I could easily miss. There should be a warning everywhere Not to look down on what we think we outgrow As long as lessons are everywhere For all ages. There was also a time, Many moons ago, When my aunt had the cousins arranged Seated on a couch For a picture or two. I became irritated and uncomfortable Being claustrophobically shoulder-squished. Upset, I curled on the floor and cried In front of everyone in the room. The first gesture that Terry offered me Was a hand to pull me up from the carpet, Of which I accepted, Like a ***** toward a penetratingly loving Samaritan. Before my relatives departed today, My aunt told me how stellar Terry's memory is And can be. My aunt backed her claim strongly By telling me how Terry remembered a quiet morning Where she and I were the only ones awake And I made waffles for her. You don't have to go to a concert To make special memories. You're not required to know all Or be all To be recognized. And my cousin Terry, alive and well, An interactor for sure, Doesn't need the sky To be a soul of sunshine.
Continue reading...
57
Your beauty hides, it's true 'Til after most harrowing moment Then close and real and sincere You step forwards Full of grace and calm. Please stay true to yourself Your true true self that is Don't give in to easy temptation: A magic potion quick fix Underneath feelings rile and strangle Turn stale and fester Let them out Let it out In song or poem or husky roar Feel it fully to heal it more. Somewhere deep down I know you Somewhere you know me too Connections made will not be lost Even with time and space Please remember I truly care And others love you the same Reach out, open up To connect more truly In empathy, they long to listen Your beauty hides it's true But we all know it's there Don't lament of weak spirit Rise up oh inner strength Embrace the nature inside One day we will meet again As friends Our connections will be renewed With music and laughter and bananagram 'Til then tears must be shed With happiness as well as sorrow Thank you for the teachings and learnings Thank you for being a part of my journey Thank you for the growth I now hold
0
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 4:30 AM UTC
Letter to a Caterpillar
#* A devout spiritual Birth and death A mere passing To closely watch this beautiful world Temporary the presence Learnings and memories For the soul Depth of this life Felt The fragrance of ancient soil The mountains rock solid And the journey of the slope Under the luminous sky Yet, a belief in the higher power The divine, supreme being Ever so deeply rooted Beyond the cycle of life and death Lord Shiva To draw strength and endurance Some wisdom To walk the path of truth Not through rituals But being closely guided by the divine In deep reverence Chanting Ten thousand times Om Namah Shivay Uprooting the fears Gently placing faith In place Belief in self In the power of the divine* 🔆🌿🌿🔆
0
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 7:18 AM UTC
The power of the divine
*Though our galaxy is tinier than the eye of a smallest ant Yet while loving you I had a perforation is my heart So big to swallow millions of such galaxies Since birth this hole Was occluded by learnings and knowledge And remained unopened Till I saw YOU - my LOVE! Rare it is To unclose this hole But just a glimpse of yours Did the trick...! Where, O Beloved Where, O Beloved You acquired this MAGIC To open this hole in my heart That can **** in the entire universe In an instant Just by a single thought of LOVING YOU?*
0
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
Just by a single thought of LOVE
* The day we are born We are at LOVE's shore The LOVE within us Is at shore Nothing leaves LOVE's shore It is the learnings That is stuff in us That we unknowingly absorb That make our EGO BIG To sail our thoughts Deep outside at seas While our good being still Stands at the shore At LOVE's shore The thoughts have their Own ways of intelligence Thoughts reason out Big tides and smaller tides Big ebbs and smaller ebbs And worries about plans Of their journey to sail Back to the shore The shore... They have not left at all In the first place The LOVE's shore... That is already within them It is just an illusion Or call it a delusion of LIFE That perceives and imagine things That may not even exists We seem to enjoy all these worries Thanks to the horrid life we live In pursue of materialistic success That beats us black and blue with Doubts, fears, prejudices Judgments, mistrusts suspicion and defiance YOU are at shore LOVE is at shore BELOVED is at shore LOVER is at shore I am at shore YOU are at shore We all are at shore What has drifted along with Our EGOIC thought is: - Our humanity - Our trust - Our belief - Our faith - Our LOVE True LOVE will never Dispose, remove or eliminate True LOVE will give you FREEDOM True LOVE will set you FREE, liberated... To bear, give birth, create To establish, uphold and build The stronger bays for Our Souls at the shore To give and receive LOVE At the LOVE's shore *
0
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
SOUL At LOVE's Shore
"I hate lies" it can be heard anywhere but for me lies are important If teacher asked to a student about his Course learnings and due to fear or hesitation He told lessons than his learnings.but if he said teacher must will be ask So the student will have to learn these incomplete lessons We know he lied but being free to called lier infront of teacher and learnt lessons also a plus point for him It's based on a true story for full story you can visit "https://openthoughts1-0.blogspot.com/2020/07/i-lied-many-times-but-i-am-not-lier.html?m=1" I am sure it can change your views on somethings
0
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 6:25 PM UTC
I lied many times but I am not lier
Now that I know you, your smile flutters my heart with wings, you do, and your eyes sparkle bright like diamond rings. Whenever we touch, your skin is wind teasing my yearnings. Touching much, my passions ache for ****** learnings. My thoughts are yours, and your strong fingers explore my mind persistently, opening doors and exposing our love's history. I am starving affection, your arms without my embrace is cold, once again, soon you will be mine to hold. Your memory keeps me higher, we have been through much together, my every desire, and I will love you forever.
0
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 11:20 AM UTC
My Every Desire
My mama used to leave me at home, Leaving me with only pencil and papers alone. I started scribbling forming things unknown. And soon mama noticed something I form. The lines I made gradually make sense, Shapes and letters my step to be literate. They let me into kindergarten And enhance the knowledge i have taken. In my grade school days I embrace knowledge I carry those learnings like a luggage. Those things I acquire it made me confident That builds my self from past to present.
0
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Early Literacy
*I'm happy and contented from the start And then she broke my heart I cried many times Met new friends and did mountain climbs Filled myself with alcohol Lose myself out of control But life doesn't end here I even became a frustrated William Shakespeare In times like these Family will always be your fresh breeze And then add your friends They are all godsends Thank you for this experience I know this is part of my existence Thank you God for all the blessings Thank you family and friends for all the learnings*
0
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
2015 - Broken Forward
a fine nine, an eye feast, boy of man, a man in his prime boyhood, a creature-so pretty that invokes eye smiles, auto-no-hesitation mop of hair even the day after his haircut, wise and hungry, an adult, a child, in a fine nine year old boy body spout, no, his child-like wisdom adult easy steady and sweet, easy in and easy out, a long strand of a sensible sweet spaghetti softly shared smiling this special child, no kin of mine, and my words can not capture a sweetness so sane, so brilliant, I wonder why to try yet here is this wonderful child on a freezing cold Orchard Street night, surrounded by hipsters, hugging me good night he does not question, does not break away, let's you drink him, and takes freely what you want to feel, a creator, birthing companionship in gentility days later you limbs burn with pleasure of his young arms kind sweet tea, the taste mint, on the tongue of your soul, the brilliant sanity of a nine year old boy who is quietly love-perfect wonderful to hug a gift to me makes me want to live longer in that winter garden, we bite each other, our Adam's apple from the tree of knowledge newly fallen, each sharing a secret, mine - you need never fear; his- you have done ok and await our next rendezvous to exchange new learnings
0
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
For Eli
It was all silk and sawdust Mamas skirts rustled a sunday mass and dad wore his bowler hat tilted at an angle (dirk bogarde -like look) But he was a farmer. soon after the service was over he'd hang his hat by the cowsheds and wallow in green slushy poo irrespective of how much it stank and how natural he looked throwing sawdust over the caked green pancakes and shovelling all that crap into a corner, with sundays best clothes on! Mama insisted he change first but no. "The cows need attention as much as god does, Mama" We did not argue with his farmyard philosophy but that's where we cut our teeth and tasted a mans love for his animals both human and beast and that's where we understood that sunhats, bowlers and polished walking sticks were just statements that didn't come from a book- but society. Somehow he mixed the two learnings to get along with everything. I missed him when he milked his last cow and lay down forever in that quiet evening as the sun set in an orange sky. The brightest star that night climbed over the eastern ridges to grace the night. Dad? © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Silk and Sawdust
Gazing at The ever raising, Of everybody, *I die daily.. * Stop caging me and my intentions, My life is mine, not for implementing, your learnings and inventions...
0
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
Expectations
I would not rather say, what I felt today. It was something scary and intense, that made my nerves go insane. It is something I asked for, To continue the learnings I adore, But, Chaos came into my core. Now I'm breaking down, oh no. I recall talking to a stranger. I told him what I've done before He was alarmed & disturbed And kept asking about it all day long. Today, I asked for a favor And kept my pride lower than before My psychological disorder shifted too strong Now, my body's shaking, oh no. I rather not tell, How badly I felt. How I tried to **** myself On the 24th day of December. How suicide thought possess How PTSD caress. How down I was, regressed. Because the only thing people see, Is the damaged part of me
0
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
Inner demon
I hope it’s okay There are teachings and learnings here Or something I think pain can be good Hurt. Is beautiful There are deep connections And share-ings - So that’s okay, isn’t it? You remind me of Luke A tortured soul Deep deep feelings I’m curious Peel back the layers I should have just been his friend He needed something But not a lover to resent And lose You would sacrifice Too much In the end it could be Worse Slashing. Fizzling. Breaking. I’m cautious: You might tip- Over Like he did. Keep yourself. Uphold your values Your true strength is there somewhere Hiding in fear of rejection You’ll shine so so bright! Glean an enjoyment from life He did not. I’ve been on a buzz Running, running, running Covering over The deep sorrow Contrast to the extreme excite Mournful I am empty Hollow No one else will fill you up That’s a love and care you have to give yourself I’ve been trying to work through all this Maybe you And the reminders Are teachers A chance for reconciliation Maybe the girl with the red balloon Needs to let it go.
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
If everything happens for a reason
#*Your are neither my sister nor my friend You can’t be any Trusted you, like a fool, and you used my heart as a tool Never mind, can’t deny, it is one Thanks it’s a two way story The very tool, weak it maybe as a wrench Yet a powerful bench Can take the weight of a thousand forty elephants Thanks for all the experience You sure do know to give that Faking it all as love Fool no more, lessons they came slow Learnings this time fast And sure will make it last So you see, you’re neither a sister nor a friend, just another teacher and that’s the end*#
0
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 7:16 AM UTC
Learnings