I got a little black book with my poems in...

Very nice, DRIVEN. Im enjoying it very much. Keep in touch with me if you wish to share any more. Later.

They're actually songs, rather than poems. But cheers anyway...always keen to compare notes.

Waht is that style you write in? Is it a particular form of peotry, or just the way you like to write?

Im not even sure my style of writing exists for others to learn. I just get into a certain mindstate, all the while thinking to myself "what would I like and what would the Roger Waters from 'A Saucerful...' to 'Darkside...' enjoy as well?" and it all starts flowing. I just write to please myself, this is the first time anyone has read anything Ive written. I plan to use the poems as lyrics when I write songs for them. Ive been playing guitar for a since I was 9 and Im almost 20 now, so maybe I can write a few songs that do the poems justice. Who knows! Later. Keep writing, you have a gift.

A Poem for Esther

You are my family,
I am yours,
Though our paths be remote,
Distant one from the other,
Still we remain connected…
Forever,
For I am your family,
And you are mine.

You are my blessing,
Though your numbers haunt and daunt,
My memory
I am your blessing, however meagre,
And far removed.
Into the wide, wide world,
Of travels taken far from you,
Yet, within my heart, love-filled
Me, with you

How futile, all our attempts may be…
To understand and to know
The Almighty’s will…But,
As is Love the certain key,
All truly blessed, our folk, are we.
My family, you,
And your family, me.

Thanks Seamus...so do you. Somehow your description of sitting in a restraunt on a cold cloudy day sounded like the PERFECT poetry / song writing environment. Ya just get into those mood some days huh.
I've been playing guitar for six ears (since I was 17) and I've been writing music since I picked the thing up (I'm a little better now than then). I'm sure you could do it if you gave it a shot.
Send me some more, if you don't mind.


BoaB...you are quite the writer aren't you. Do you actually publish any creative writing? If not, maybe you should think about it some day. I can just see the titles now:
"Byron, all you need to Know", or
"Tales of a Bull's Bitch", nah, not very nice that one is it, um,
"Wingnut Chronicles".
I'm having a lot of fun imagining the content of those books. I would buy one if I ever see it on a shelf

Thanks Driven, I think. And unfortunately no, I have never been published.

Since the age of 14, as a very keen observant of human nature and life on planet Earth, I became equally keen to write stories about it after getting a much better than expected typewriter for Christmas. The best thing was I got straight A's in all my subsequent English classes.

But get off my butt and get it all down on paper, I have not. Instead, as with many of us, I allowed life to get in the way of making other plans.

The poem above is my only SERIOUS (in the writing, not the import) one ever written; for a beloved aunt who I might never see alive again, but also for the extended "family". At first I thought it too personal to post here, but reckoned the sentiments might be general enough to appeal more widely.

It took me two minutes to think up and jot down, and three days to finalise. Abandon, more like. I wouldn't say poetry is a strong point; essays and short stories are more my style.

How does "Travails of a Singing Telegram" sound for a title?

No? What about Chapter titles:

COMPTON: THE EARLY YEARS
- L.A. Snowball Fight
- Rattlesnakes In The Sleeping Bag
- God, That Butterfly Is Beautiful
- Jump, you fool! Jump!
- Daddy Killed The Goat
- The Highest Tree
- Rocket Girl - What A Funny Color

Perhaps this would be better in the Essays forum after all.

Fictionally Floydian,
Byron

-Closing Curtains-
One day of long, the cold and bleak
Of days when angels would rarely speak
The flames of torture fell through the cracks
and left an angel puzzled, watching his back.

I felt the cold hand of Terring Knowe
Scratching on my hardened soul
Draining life and thoughts alike
Bringing me to a standing hold.

We spoke of times I do not recall
And shallow words leaked into the hall
For something I was facing in the break of the night
Wasn't known for what it was, dreams that never took flight.

Father, am I really on my last breath?
Asking 4 more days before my death
Oh Father, can't you see where I'm going?
Oh Father, will you take me home?

As we walked through the Oak
Past residents and seekers unknown
We understood the facing truth
Our hope for prosper was gone.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I wrote this one after an argument with my half sister about my Father and his thoughts about me. He hasnt been my Father since I was 2 weeks old and she thinks I should act like nothing's wrong. But thats my personal stuff, you get the idea. Look for hints and changes: His name is Terry Janow (Terring Knowe); lives in Oak Hill (...walked through the Oak). I don't know. It just expresses some personal father/son emotional stress. But you can make whatever you want of it! Later. Stay tuned.

-Leaving Soon-

how far did you get
with dispair in your eyes
could you sneak it through
wrapped in blue skies.

did you find what you wanted
hidden deep in the sands
everything we did today
left guilt slipping through my hands.

we hope you get there on time
and find your way through the lines
to the places you can hide
leaving me and your memories behind.

=exit song=

lay down your hand
paper shapes to make a stand
pick up the rounds
give 3 to the band

you may exit through the back.
------------
I always wanted my own short outro song, this is it. When I start recording, this will be the lyrics to the last song. Later.

That was pretty good Byron.

Cheers man,

Mark

Cheers, Mark, high praise indeed. :smile:

Seamus Laughs seems to be on a roll. Keep it coming Seamus Laughs!

OK, back from my break.

Seamus, they are all very cool. The first one (about your Dad) was excellent, but I had my own feeling on what it was about. I guess that's why Gilmour prefers not to talk about his lyrics.

Well I guess I've fallen behind a little here, so I'd better throw another one in.

Smile

I was king of my world,
Then my world went and got bigger than me,
I was stuck in its valleys,
Of doubt, fear, and despair,
I didn't like living there,

But for a brief moment,
Just a short while,
You brought me out of that world,
And taught me to smile again,

I was flying towards,
The light at the end of the tunnel,
Frightened the light was,
The head of an oncoming train,
Now the tunnel's in darkness again,

But for a brief moment,
Just a short time,
You brought me out of the darkness,
And taught me to shine again,

And I don't want this,
To go away,
I'd love this feeling,
To stay,

'Cause for a brief moment,
Just a short time,
You brought me out of myself,
And made me smile, and shine again.

--------------------------

My Friend

I saw myself,
In a bath of my own blood,
While dreaming,
Last night,
Waiting to die,
I was convinced to keep living,
By an old lady,
Last night,

But you,
You wouldn't understand,
What that means,
To Me,
And I,
I do not understand,
How I could be,
So unhappy,

I saw her,
Looking pretty,
And wandering through my dreams,
Last night,
I reached out for her,
And I took her in my arms,
Kissing her deeply,
Then she left me,

But you,
You wouldn't understand,
What that means,
To me,
And I,
I do not understand,
How I could be,
So lonely,

I woke up today,
And I realised,
You would be there always,
My Friend,
Never could I,
Be unhappy or lonely,
When you are there,
My friend,

And you,
You wouldn't understand,
What you mean,
To me,
And I,
I do not understand,
How I could be,
So lucky,

To have friends like you.

------------------------

Like BoaB said, both of those ones are a bit more personal. But I guess they're kind of universal in theme.

Very good poems Driven, keep em coming. Im working on one as we speak! Stay tuned. Later.

-To Catch A Soul-

on cracking roads with black hearted skies
where life is little and all beauty dies
with hope in the crossfire and weapons in tune,
the band walked along to the land of untrue.

we fled into boundries and smothered our selves
hiding from dogs that begged for our shells
in gullies and trenches we waited for call
to take out the man who was ringing the bells

he called out to people in far away fields
'come see the spectical of souls in a cage'
our mothers were weaping and racking their brains
our hands on this man would end in a rage

I recall the score when I heard mother cry
as the bottoms of planes made holes in the dry
down through the dirt where our enemy stood
we waited in eager to strike when we could

he has stolen our lives to protect all his dirt
he doesnt feel guilty for the ones who were hurt
we spat in his face as we stormed his command
then sat in the meadows of this far away land
=============================
This short song was written in memory of the war that is going on right now in Afganistan. Senseless violence doesnt bring us anything but more tears and pain. Support our troops. Later.