Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Forth into the forest straightway
All alone walked Hiawatha
Proudly, with his bow and arrows,
And the birds sang round him, o’er him,
“Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!”
Sang the robin, the Opechee,
Sang the blue bird, the Owaissa,
“Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!”

Up the oak tree, close beside him,
Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
In and out among the branches,
Coughed and chattered from the oak tree,
Laughed, and said between his laughing,
“Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!”

And the rabbit from his pathway
Leaped aside, and at a distance
Sat ***** upon his haunches,
Half in fear and half in frolic,
Saying to the little hunter,
“Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!”

But he heeded not, nor heard them,
For his thoughts were with the red deer;
On their tracks his eyes were fastened,
Leading downward to the river,
To the ford across the river,
And as one in slumber walked he,

Hidden in the alder bushes.
There he waited till the deer came,
Till he saw two antlers lifted,
Saw two eyes look from the thicket,
Saw two nostrils point to windward,
And a deer came down the pathway,
Flecked with leafy light and shadow.
And his heart within him fluttered,
Trembled like the leaves above him,
Like the birch-leaf palpitated,
As the deer came down the pathway.

Then, upon one knee uprising,
Hiawatha aimed an arrow;
Scarce a twig moved with his motion,
Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled,
But the wary roebuck started,
Stamped with all his hoofs together,
Listened with one foot uplifted,
Leaped as if to meet the arrow;
Ah! the singing, fatal arrow,
Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him!

Dead he lay there in the forest,
By the ford across the river;
Beat his timid heart no longer,
But the heart of Hiawatha
Throbbed and shouted and exulted,
As he bore the red deer homeward,
And Iagoo and Nokomis
Hailed his coming with applauses.

From the red deer’s hide Nokomis
Made a cloak for Hiawatha,
From the red deer’s flesh Nokomis
Made a banquet in his honor.
All the village came and feasted,
All the guests praised Hiawatha,
Called him Strong-heart, Soan-ge-taha!
Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-taysee!
JLB Jan 2014
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a drive through my mind.
I drove when I needed to search for understanding, and then came a time when I no longer yearned to understand.
Objects in mirrors were closer than they appeared. And suddenly…
Life was closer than it appeared whenever it was netted in the echo of a poem.


It began to snow, and the flakes under my headlights turned to shooting stars.
I was so close. So close to…something. I could see the faint outline of a figure…a man perhaps?
Time froze, or maybe it sped up? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t perceive what was, and what wasn’t.
Then suddenly, he was there—
A man in a dark cloak, standing in the middle of the road, reaching out to me.  
I put on my breaks, and the car came to a sudden halt.
He circled around the car, approaching my window. I could not see his face.
I rolled down the window, and he came forward and motioned for my hand, holding out his gloved one.
I gave it to him.
He held it.
I suddenly wanted to die.
I said, “Can you make the suffering stop?”
He inhaled, as if to speak, and then…
I felt adrenaline and fear surge in my veins. I inhaled to ask him who he was, but there was no air. I was full of nothing.
I did not want to hear what he had to say.
My heart palpitated. My vision went black.  I opened the car door, and flung myself out onto the snowy ground.
The man was gone.
I didn’t want to drive anymore, so I locked the car, left it in the middle of the road, and walked into the blizzard. I didn’t know which way home was, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know anything.

Life meets human understanding in the most delicate way, when one finds words to echo reality.
After the pen has scribbled something profound, understanding meets fear in the most unfortunate way.  All that once was, crumbles under epiphany.  
What is already known is comfortable. It doesn’t require bravery, for we have already faced it. We have already heard the words spoken from under the cloak, and we already have seen the face of their messenger.
Ashmita Jan 2013
This is not a poem, but its close to my heart, so I thought I'd put this up.

"We're walking these streets like they're paved with gold
Make any old excuses not to go
Neither one of us want to take that taxi home."

She came out of the movie hall with a new soul. A new life, a new beginning. As he held her hands, for the first time, in a long time, she felt safe. Even if what she had, posed the greatest threat to her. Disappointment. All over again. But in that one moment she knew what she wanted.    
She'd never leave that hand. No matter what it took, she'd be there, holding on. She swore she'd never let this go. And with that conclusion, she was born again. With hot tears, she was rejuvenated.
This time, her tears were the reason she smiled.
This time, she got back the heart she had once given away.
This time, she was loved.
Her knees were week, her heart palpitated, butterflies in her stomach. Her mind, not working.
Time stood still. And it felt perfect.
"I'll be back in a moment", he kissed her hand so delicately as if she was so fragile. As if she'd break in an instant. She would have. She was a crystal waiting to be damaged. But there was something in his eyes which told her, he'd be back.
Reluctantly, but gradually she let him go. He took one look and turned and ran away. Her gaze followed him. He felt it. He looked back, winked and carried on.
He came back. Not with a horse carriage, but with a old taxi. it really didn't matter as long as he was in it.
"Come on in"
His presence invited her in. He took her by the shoulders. And she was where she belonged. She closed her eyes for just a moment to take it all in. He took her hands and held on tight. And as the road went on, she found herself wishing it would not lead home. Wishing it could just take them away. She didn't care were that away was. As long as it was away.
She smiled. Holding nothing back, she laughed.
She was no longer the girl with a broken smile.
The taxi driver kept looking back. They were as bad as newlyweds. Shy, yet nothing could possibly keep them apart. And from the corner of her eyes she caught the old taxi driver deliver a smile of acceptance.
With both hesitance and surety, she kept taking risks, going further and further closer to home, together, in each other's arms. Because for the first time in her life, she HAD something to loose. Because the risk was worth it. every moment of it.      
She understood what she had in her hand. It was something familiar. Something warm and cozy. It was love.
A love which wasn't understandable. A love unknown. A strange and sudden development.
Her wall had been broken once again. This time, easier than before.
And it only took a taxi ride home for it to be realized.
SassyJ Sep 2018
The myriads of symbolic rhythms
sway along the narrow highway
as the speed of each engine races
whilst my heart traces in lost decades
worn out and torn in unjust voids
Yet the summer trails brought an adventure
crucified to a verge of eventual twists
pasted inside pain as never before
upon the thrones of the sacrifice
at the cross of want that never returns
where veins are palpitated and bled
and the volcano boils without a limit
at the heart of where a stormy story formed
by the alleyway where lavenders diffused
and the bees fed from pollen to pollen
upon the mouth of the energy giving nectar
where the summer fruits craved for that ray of light


I wrote so many poems
And LOVE quotes
Thinking of YOU on a
Virtual paper of laptop

What should have happened was
I should be writing
The same poems and quotes
On your bare skin
Behind your shoulder
In those cold nights
And under the candle light

I never wanted anyone
To read my poems except YOU
I do not want to store them
Anywhere, except
In between your chest and shoulder
Within the inner layers of
Your gentle heart - forever!

Instead what happened
That nor my fingers reached
Your skin of your back
Nor I touched your breast
Your heart palpitated inside
Waiting for my touch
And I kept on writing
Poems on the virtual
Paper of the laptop


Valsa George Jun 2016
Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
A frying egg yolk on the pan
My blood started burning…. burning
A strange madness crept across my senses
Intoxicated as by an excess dose of ale
Or drunk with the vintage wine
Or by some mystical disengagement
I started levitating
Wings sprouted up suddenly on my sides
I reeled round and round
Flew up and up
Meteors flashed past
Stars blinked
Larger celestial bodies stood still
Strange sounds fleeted past my ears
My heart palpitated,
Like the rumblings of thunder
My eyes glowed like fire *****

A shout I heard afar
Over the heavens’ mysterious rim
Muffled though, I could decipher it;
“Welcome to the clan of poets”!
Around me, I saw multitudes of poets
Young and old, their faces blazing
Like a thousand lanterns lit
In that blinding brilliance
My filmy wings burnt outright!

Like Icarus, from the heights
I flopped down to the chasm below
In the scattered heap of flesh and bones
A faint stir …..
…………………..
The feeble flutter of a poetic heart
Before it was finally stilled!!
This is how I feel now....... in the blinding brilliance of poetic talents I see here, my wings are burnt !
Filmore Townsend Jan 2013
couple hours sitting,
self-inclusive psych time.
when we came to we
grab'd some beer and
went down to the dam'd creek -
namesake of our campsite.
water a constant sixty-degrees even
in triple-digit Oklahoma summers.
immersed myself to avoid
fear of the cold, and
heart palpitated as i
sat down with water up to chest.
began pounding rocks
together. under the water.
like a silent neanderthal
shaping the first tools.
you sank the beers and we linger'd a bit.
children splash'd in deeper water,
she made comments of their endurance.
final thought before head'd home,
no children died on the Titanic.
Garth Lebowski Mar 2016
Moonlight drapes my room tonight like the ancient dust found in every old and abandoned house you enter, filling every crack, every crevice with gloom. I try and drift, for just a second but my heart drops and I'm sadly awakened again by my own delusions and perils of the night. For when I close my eyes, I see a manner of things that frighten me and my fleeting hopes of sleep are diminished. Thus the forlorn story of my insomnia repeats itself yet another night.

Amidst the eerie stillness of the evening, something mysterious jolted violently against my wall splitting the silence in two. It appeared with a thunderous thud at the end of the room that rattled my bones to the marrow. Startled, I awakened with a single heartbeat and gasping for air. In horror I perceived a lone and tall figure convulsing wildly in a strip of pale moonlight that carpeted the floor. A solitary shape of no defined earthly nature stood twitching at the very end of my bed, watching me as I stared back. Quaking, I contemplated my fate as it whispered indecipherably, putting its arm out as if to reach me.

So many nights I had heard its ramblings of insanity, so many times I had wished for death to greet me in its wake and once again, there it stood; a shadowy devil from the depths of hades staring down into my worthless soul. “Who’s there!?” I uttered, as my heart palpitated rapidly only to be replied by the silence of the night, “Hear me foul creature of the night, be gone or thou shall feel God’s wrath! Be gone dreaded beast back to the depths of hell with you!” As I spoke, it hovered nearer and nearer, its fiery glare pierced my soul as it tilted its gaze. The daemon stopped abruptly as I whispered “Amen.” An immense howl escaped the creature as it dissipated into a black cloud of evil laughter that echoed in the deepest chasms of my consciousness.

In a mixed sense of relief and revulsion I staggered out of the warm protection of my covers and beheld the mirror across my chamber. Just to check if I was still whole and among the living.
I was whole and so was my executioner.
Jr Aug 2014
I didn't know what to think,
Pinned down I was in a single blink.

Tackled down viciously, and no restraint
My body ached, lungs incapacitated and body weight faint
Light it was, but enough to bruise my chest
Dexterous hands she boasted, but she didn't rest

I struggled under her dominance
Such powerful grip she had in instant
I bucked with each movement she made
The soft round firm muscles of her *** perfectly shaped

Each moment she came down on my crotch
A searing fervor of heat with no stop
The wetness of her lower walls embracing
My own growing arousal without any patience

"What now Big Boy?"

"I'm not your **** toy."

She huskily grew closer to my ears
All the while her juices dripping clear
I could tell by strength and knowledge alone
That my hip flexor muscle was now torn

Definite eroticism in such a goddess
But actions alone proved her not modest
My heart throbbed and rapidly palpitated
The eagerness in her position accelerated

"Ugh...stop it what I do this time?"

"Nothing. Its what you didn't do tonight."

She continued to gyrate and elevate
I felt the indefinite bruising in my wrist dictate
The growing heat and pleasure she was feeling
Not something that I wanted, but wasn't disagreeing

I wanted to slow her down and pick up with reason
She slammed her lips with mine as if it was treason
The blood on my mouth and her own scent
Just raised the growing ****** tensions present

She moved and moved and it grew into a frenzy
Clothes discarded, shoes unwanted, undoubted human chemistry
Face to face, eye to eye, power on her cause I was denied
Any action to pleasure in form, but it was no truth I was lied

"Keep going Big Boy."

"I'm not your **** toy."

Placing hands on my chest, feet to my face
Beautiful dominance, in every possible way
Denial isn't easy, but it sure is powerful
*** she was going to get, but at her own disposal

Eli Junior(c)
Dominant women turn me on, but there is a risk.
Mark Addison May 2016
Across the thin line twixt denial and panic
Stepped a young man whose Depression was manic.
His heart palpitated, threatening to burst
Right there in line, in which he was first.
‘Sir, can I help you,’ had uttered the girl,
‘Are you one of the specters?’ He’d begun to unfurl.

Awoke he bed-bound in some wretched infirmary,
For minutes he struggled to escape this man-burglary
Which would surely result in a suit from his lawyers,
Upon the nurse’s return he declared he’d destroy her,
At which point he made a regrettable choice,
He hawked and he spat, and even rejoiced
After she’d reeled and dropped his impossibly thick file-
Unbeknownst to him, he’d been there quite a while.
ajit patel Jun 2018
Left for Goa with some trepidation,
Consoled Wifi and Boss
that, will resume service
with renewed vigour after 17.

On to the Re-Union.

It's been some time
since have met those guys,
and there are few girls too..
Some of them I knew
Some were acquaintances..

On to the Re-Union.

Did not know what we would do,
just a few rounds of drinks,
and old memories rekindled ,
was all I expected.

Yeah... On to the Re-Union.

Arrived a day late
and on to the contrary,
the excitement palpitated
through my rather smart phone
of the party already, started.
Instant messages throwing images
of bonhomie and ribaldry..

Ahaa its the Re-Union.

On seeing me the gang was excited
as I was tha long lost shipmate,
arriving from the dead..
The look of them, older and curvier,
with edges given way to gentle roundels.
Ample greys and ample tummies.
Eyes crinkled with Laughing lines,
foreheads furrowed with long worries..

Tis what happens at a Re-Union.

Love just overflowed,
as did the beeya,
we danced away like tiny teens,
each hug an acknowledgement
from another battered old soul,
of recognition,
that I am you and you are me,
not different from each otha.

That I have survived
and will thrive,
and will not let go now......
that I have found you...
For the Reunion of the gang at Goa in Jun, 2017
GfS Jun 2015
I've done everything in my power
and here, I put my hands up high
surrendering to to you all that I can offer
for my head can't be held up tight

Your love for him, I cannot bother
for this is what you want
My words, my actions cannot reach you
and blood, tears and sweat seem not enough

Here I confess that my lungs have been damaged
my heart has palpitated all that it could
Just so that I could put a smile on your face
and not bother you as I should

I've done everything in my power
and yet.. I cannot be "The One"
I ask, do you see nothing in me?
do you see a tombstone for me?

I have been there in the times
that you have suffered
that you wept and grieved in lost love
in the times that you lost hope

I have been there in the times
that you have smiled
that you smirked and laughed in gained memory
in the times that you gained hope

Here, I realize that.. I will never be enough
my words, my actions, my soul
they will never reach you
they will never meet you

Here I am once again
looking at love with my bare eyes
Here I am once again
for all that is left of me

A piece of my mind, my heart
my love and broken soul
whatever was left that
you haven't taken from me
and what I have not given you

I put up my hands up high
knees on the floor
eyes drenched with tears
and I tell all the stars my wish for you
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I wish you sunshine after the rain
All the rest after the pain
I wish you a comfy bed and tea
that tastes beyond your wildest dreams

I wish you health and strength
a good morning and beautiful sunrise
a safe journey home and warm cloudy skies
that makes funny shapes as the light enters your eyes

I wish you all the happiness that the world could offer
or at least, a wonderful taste
of the happiness you have given me
because I wasn't enough to make you feel that

Haha, my wish for you
All I wish for you is love
I wish you love
Donall Dempsey Dec 2015
'SO....THE DAYS HAVE WORN AWAY...HAVE THEY?"

Mrs. Havisham
ran from her dream

and into the arms
of her husband.

She was trembling
like a dying bird

held in the hand
tears falling on it.

"Dearest...dearest!"

Mr. Havisham tried to
cajoled her back to

some kind of
reality.

"Oh, Mr. Havisham sir..!"
she palpitated

"I drempt I was on fire
and my world

was all cobwebs and dust
cobwebs and dust!"

"And, that...I was never
married and that I was

but a character in a book
by that Mr. Dickens!"

"Shhhhh...shhhhhh!" her husband
shushed her

and she slept in his embrace
as real as real.

A ray of sunshine
entered their room

bowing before them

announcing in a loud morning voice

"Your world....
....awaits you!"
I like fictional characters as they can be even further fictionalised! One can then give them other various possible possibilities and invent other futures...other lives for them and see how they unfurl themselves into whoever you make them be on just a passing whim. I've just wrote another called ROMEO &...MARY.
Bridget Allyson Jun 2016
Can a heart really shatter?
Can you physically drop it and watch it break into a million pieces?
We use hearts as metaphors
We unite the words "heart and soul"
When ancient Egyptians believed any "feeling" belonged to the liver
Because the liver is closer to the hormones

Can a heart really shatter?
Is it that fragile that we have to put a sign spelled out in our eyes that says "handle with care"
A heart is a metaphor for all the years my heart has palpitated
All the times my heart just drops in exhaustion

I can't tell you if a heart really shatters.
But I know what it feels like when it beats so hard and it hurts
It aches
It throbs
It breaks
Donall Dempsey Dec 2021
SO....THE DAYS HAVE WORN AWAY...HAVE THEY?"

Mrs. Havisham
ran from her dream

and into the arms
of her husband.

She was trembling
like a dying bird

held in the hand
tears falling on it.

"Dearest...dearest!"

Mr. Havisham tried to
cajoled her back to

some kind of
reality.

"Oh, Mr. Havisham sir..!"
she palpitated

"I drempt I was on fire
and my world

was all cobwebs and dust
cobwebs and dust!"

"And, that...I was never
married and that I was

but a character in a book
by that Mr. Dickens!"

"Shhhhh...shhhhhh!" her husband
shushed her

and she slept in his embrace
as real as real.

A ray of sunshine
entered their room

bowing before them

announcing in a loud morning voice

"Your world....
....awaits you!"
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018
'SO....THE DAYS HAVE WORN AWAY...HAVE THEY?"

Mrs. Havisham
ran from her dream

and into the arms
of her husband.

She was trembling
like a dying bird

held in the hand
tears falling on it.

"Dearest...dearest!"

Mr. Havisham tried to
cajoled her back to

some kind of
reality.

"Oh, Mr. Havisham sir..!"
she palpitated

"I drempt I was on fire
and my world

was all cobwebs and dust
cobwebs and dust!"

"And, that...I was never
married and that I was

but a character in a book
by that Mr. Dickens!"

"Shhhhh...shhhhhh!" her husband
shushed her

and she slept in his embrace
as real as real.

A ray of sunshine
entered their room

bowing before them

announcing in a loud morning voice

"Your world....
....awaits you!"
Robert meacham Apr 2021
Captain Jack and Lillian

It was a mid-day in May
When red sunlight lazily lay
Peering through cloudless skies,
Casting down on ocean's brilliant dyes
That Captain Jack and his crew of three
sailed for the magic solitude
of the boundless sea.
Lillian stood on the surf-tormented shore,
Her eyes' scintillating soul the pain she bore.
Jack consumed her heart,
in all and in whole,
And with it he took his truant soul.

The day had grown to twilight dim
As Night birds sang a solemn hymn
That echoed across the night-tide's rush
riding waves' glow with reddish blush.
There appeared a bright cold moon
As if a talisman, not a warning too soon
For the once calm waters began to swell
from the chilling winds upon them fell.
The tossing tempests had grown and grown
as mountainous waves appeared as death's throne.
In solemn silence,
Captain Jack and the three
became slumbering souls
beneath the tumultuous sea.
The lurid sea, the lurid sea
in all the pageantry of her beauty.

Moon tints of purple and pearl
evolved into brilliant liquescence
when Lillian appeared as crystalline light,
the poetry of her presence.
Her face shone sorrow and her soul she borrowed
as she pleaded to the stars above,
wishing the return of Captain Jack,
her one and only love.

Out of the sea's immensity,
into a labyrinth of pearly light,
Captain Jack stood a proud tower
holding his stone flowers
toward Lillian , he held them out right.
Her heart palpitated at the welcome sight,
her eyes beamed with glee
One step then two then vanishing into
the cold embrace of the sea.
Love lost sea
Donall Dempsey Dec 2017
'SO....THE DAYS HAVE WORN AWAY...HAVE THEY?"

Mrs. Havisham
ran from her dream

and into the arms
of her husband.

She was trembling
like a dying bird

held in the hand
tears falling on it.

"Dearest...dearest!"

Mr. Havisham tried to
cajoled her back to

some kind of
reality.

"Oh, Mr. Havisham sir..!"
she palpitated

"I drempt I was on fire
and my world

was all cobwebs and dust
cobwebs and dust!"

"And, that...I was never
married and that I was

but a character in a book
by that Mr. Dickens!"

"Shhhhh...shhhhhh!" her husband
shushed her

and she slept in his embrace
as real as real.

A ray of sunshine
entered their room

bowing before them

announcing in a loud morning voice

"Your world....
....awaits you!"
rufus Sep 2014
She did something I could never discuss
Maybe because we don't want people to fuss
But maybe because that moment was ours

She did something I could never say to others
My heart palpitated and the gesture was hers
I am quiet about it so I will never hear murmurs

It is mine to dream of and was mine to live by
She gave me something precious that night
And I will keep it a secret 'til the day I die.

— The End —