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Poems that I feel. . .more than just words. . .


Whiteblaze
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[COLOR=indigo]All of these are poems that I've read and feel are not just words or words with a rhyme. To me, they have meaning (real meaning). You could say they're the kind of poems I like reading. They've got feeling, meaning, emotion, & some of them I can actually relate to or be empathetic with and in general I think they have a certain beauty to them.

I like the feeling inside you get/thoughts you have after reading poems like these. If you want, I'd like to hear what you have to say about them, as far as your thoughts and feelings or maybe even, opinions.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=darkblue]This first one, titled, [B][I]No Visible Scars[/I][/B], is by someone named [B]Jennifer Hare[/B].[/COLOR]


[B]No Visible Scars[/B]

"I got it when I was two," he says
as I trace back time through a line on his chest.
Thinking about
a heart removed,
replaced,
then gone again.

Silently touching his past,
I feel a strange
pang of jealousy.

My heart,
still pounding beneath my breast,
broken so many times,
has no visible scars.


[I]Copyright ©2003 Jennifer Hare[/I]
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Guest dayday
I think this poem has a meaning. It can get to people too if they understand it. I understand what it means but just saying.

Wait, that didn't make sense. Let's try this again. I think that poem has a meaning too. Where did you get them from?

That's better.:)
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Heart transplant.....maybe, I don't know about that. But it sounds as if they've had their heart has been broken many times. If you think about your heart it can have scars but no body can ever see them, because they're no physhical. They're emotionally, if this so happens to be true then many people should be albe to relate back to this poem....but hey what do I know! I'm most likely wrong.
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Guest dayday
Why would you go around and show people your physical heart? That's nasty. Like someone would just walk around with a hole in their chest bleeding to death showing everyone what their heart looks like.
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No nothing like that! What I ment is it's just that no one can see any scars of the heart cause people don't just carry around an x-ray or rip open some one else's heart. I ment that their emothional scars that can be seen because they're not really there. It's all in the person's head.

Plus if you do have a big hole in your cheast you might not bleed to death. I almost lost a part of my leg when a spring went and almost detached it from the rest of my body.
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the first person had a heart transplant.. so his heart does have a scar from being hurt but the hurt was physical. the second persons heart has been broken theyre jelous that they dont have a scar a scar would have ment the pain was physical not emotional and it would have passed but sense its emotional theyve held it with them and it hurts them almost everyday if not everyday.
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[COLOR=royal blue]I'm very happy that you all are putting your comments and thoughts and everything, I like seeing others views & interpretations. I appreciate it, thanks![/COLOR] :)
[I][SIZE=1](& yes I'm a she)[/SIZE][/I]

Also, yes, you all had the right idea! That's exactly what the person in the poem is feeling!
& it's just how I saw it when I read it the first time.

[COLOR=indigo][I]My thoughts[/I]
For the the woman in the poem, I think the man is probably a friend of hers or acquaintance, someone she just knows or at least someone she's just met.
One reason why I like this one is because you could probably feel the way she does or understand how she feels esp. if you've had your heart broken. This shows connection and also unanimity. The feeling in, [I]No Visible Scars[/I], is very touching![/COLOR]

[COLOR=darkblue]This second one is by someone named [B]Mark Nicholas Borg[/B], and it's called, [B][I]An Old Movie Reel[/I][/B].[/COLOR]


[B]An Old Movie Reel[/B]

They seemed to be perpetually cold,

our ancestors; hatted, cravatted, buttoned-up,

they walk briskly through

the frames of this old film

and look as if they never knew

what grace was, or fluidity.

What they made of our history

was a jerky mess of discontinuity,

a disharmony that led to their destruction.

It seems, now, that they only ever

unbuttoned themselves to illness or death.

Bustling under this Sunday sun, everyone

is so wrapped up, you cannot imagine

how they ever found time to undress,

caress, and make the love that made us.


[I]Copyright ©2003 Mark Nicholas Borg[/I]
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Guest dayday
I didn't like the one as much as the last one. But it was still good. I think it's because I'm an old fashioned girl who loves electricity.
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Ohh...sorry to say I got lost at the line "unbuttoned themselves to illness or death" other then that I under stood. But as you can see I got lost so...yeah. From what I had understood of it I liked it. But I also go with dayday, I like electricity.
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I see what you mean Ruby, I sort of did too but, I think I understood what it meant after thinking about it though.

[COLOR=indigo]I could easily get what it meant at the beginning, talking about an old film because they do look like that.
I like this one particularly because I thought the ending was nice. It went from talking about influidity, discontinuity, disharmony, and destruction to, love. I thought that was sort of sweet.[/COLOR]

I don't understand electricity's place in this poem and also why you two would say that you liked electricity? I like electricity too but, I don't understand your mentioning of it, could you please tell me?
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It made think of electricity because old movies reels you had to stay there and crank them in a patteren to get the movies to play. I guess I just thought of it because in the poem it had said "the frames of this old film" and "What they made of our history, was a jerky mess of discontinuity". ^^; I guess it's another thing that just makes my think too deeply and start to see images. (Don't mind me, I do this alot)
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Guest dayday
I just thought of the electricity thing because it was talking about old stuff and nobody had electricity in the old days. Just made me think of how much I wish I was back there because you wouldn't have to worry about much. But I stil can't go one day without using anything electric. It's like I'm drawn to it.
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[COLOR=indigo]Honestly, I never thought about that. I've never seen one of those old cameras so I didn't at first get why you two mentioned electricity but, I see what you all mean now. Although, what I was thinkng about was how I've seen old black n' white films on TV, like when someone's showing something about history or refering back to something in the past. For me, that's what came to mind.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=darkblue]This one is called [B][I]A Dream of My Son[/I][/B], and it's by someone named [B]Laura Lynn Chiara[/B].[/COLOR]


[B]A Dream of My Son[/B]

I dreamed about my son last night
His cheeks were full, his eyes were bright

A little smile lit up his face
As teasingly he found his place

His arms were strong, he stood so tall
He walked among us one and all

I had forgotten he'd been gone
Until he said he wasn't strong

And then I bade him hold me close
Walk with me now--but then I woke

And in the darkness of my room
My heart was like an empty tomb

My tears that fell there all alone
Betrayed the truth already known

My son . . . is gone


[I]Copyright ©2003 Laura Lynn Chiara[/I]
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Guest dayday
I would call that torture. Dreaming about your son because you love him so much. Then waking up and he's not there. That's hard on a heart.
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Maybe for some, but my views always go the other way that people normal think about things. So to me it's touching, and I don't what to go back into why. So I like, for the resones that I do and that I've stated.
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Yeah, it'd most likely have to be painful. They might cry in their sleep at the same time too. I think that's possible...but I don't know if people can cry in their sleep or not. Anyways that is kinda of sad, wanting something that you've lost forever.
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Guest dayday
People can cry in their sleep. If you're doing something in a dream sometimes it's actually happening in real life.
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Guest dayday
Actually one time when I was like 7 I had a dream I was dead and my cousin had my by the arms dragging me down the hallway in his apartment. I forced myself to wake up and my cousin was holding me in the same position as in my dream. He was trying to put me back on the couch because his brother kicked me off. He said I was moving to much as I kept kicking him. ^^;
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