Saturday, May 7, 2016

Memory Lane

I wrote a new poem a few days ago. I hope you like it.


You’re standing on a lonely stone bridge,
Gazing out at the fog covered ridge.


That ridge is your future; both far and near,
Hopes and fears filled with laughter and tears.


Below you the river of life happily bubbling,
Hiding the obstacles with which you are struggling.


It flows on and on soon fading from sight,
No one can stop it, try hard as they might.


It finds a way through and keeps pressing on,
Twisting and turning whilst singing its song.


My friend you have traveled long and far,
Not always knowing where exactly you are.


The road you now travel is yours alone,
Others will cross it, but never for long .


From back whence you came, you clearly can see,
Everything you have done, each a warm memory


The very beginning is now rather misty,
But see it you can though the path is quite twisty.


Some memories are bright, just as if they were new,
While others have faded, though hopefully few.


As you travel the world, and make memories new,
The old ones will fade, as they tend to do.


So every so often, even if it's in pain,
Remember me from your own memory lane.

Quotes

There are worse crimes than burning books.
One of them is not reading them.
~Ray Bradbury~


Hey everyone, 
I know I haven't done anything for a long time, and I really don't have an excuse so yeah. My new thing is quotes so here is the first of many good ones. It is by the author of Fahrenheit 451, and it is oddly satisfying.  

Monday, September 1, 2014

My People

I’m standing here outside my door,
Looking at the distant shore.


The great waves that come crashing down,
Melt slowly back without a sound.


Glancing back, I see my village,
Which other tribes may pick and pillage.


With tall trees shading most the ground,
No one is just standing ‘round


Turning again, there's something new,
A small black speck engulfed in blue.


Slowly, steadily, closer it gets,
Now I see, that it’s a ship.


A pang of fear grips me fast,
As I gaze up at the mast.


The shining cannon at the stern,
Is enough to make me churn.


And the men who man the sail,
With hair and faces fair and pale.


They came and ran us off our land,
Just as if we’re made of sand.


What I thought would last forever,
Ended up smashed and scattered.


The hope and pride we called our own,
Is now a strange new peoples home.


My people then were poor and weak,
And most the world, would turn their cheek.


And now as time goes passing by,
My people slowly start to rise.


Amidst the ever changing tides,
We've conformed to newer times.


And so the point of this you see,
We never know what is to be.


And the things we think will last,
End up forgotten in the past.

~Rebekah Plummer~


I wrote this when I was at a writing camp, and we were told to write a poem about something we are passionate about. I love learning about native Americans, and I think what European Americans did to them was awful, but that isn't really the point of the poem.
I wrote it from a native's perspective, of what I think they would have felt, and thought; and at the end its just talking about that you never know if what you think is always going to be there, that it could be gone the next day, and you never expect it.
I hope you enjoy this!

Till next time!

Sunday, August 31, 2014

At The Beginning

We were strangers, starting out on a journey
Never dreaming, what we’d have to go through
Now here we are, I’m suddenly standing
At the beginning with you


No one told me, I was going to find you
Unexpected, what you did to my heart
When I lost hope, you were there to remind me
This is the start


And life is a road that I wanna keep going
Love is a river, I wanna keep flowing
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey
I’ll be there when the world stops turning
I’ll be there when the storm is through
In the end I wanna be standing
At the beginning with you


we were strangers, on a crazy adventure
Never dreaming, how our dreams would come true
Now here we stand, unafraid of the future
At the beginning with you


And life is a road that I wanna keep going
Love is a river, I wanna keep flowing
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey
I’ll be there when the world stops turning
I’ll be there when the storm is through
In the end I wanna be standing
At the beginning with you


Knew there was somebody, somewhere
A new love in the dark
Now I know my dream will live on
I’ve been waiting so long
Nothing’s gonna tear us apart


And life is a road that I wanna keep going
Love is a river, I wanna keep flowing
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey
I’ll be there when the world stops turning
I’ll be there when the storm is through
In the end I wanna be standing
At the beginning with you

This is the song that plays during the credits of Anastasia, which is a very sweet movie in my opinion. It pretty much speaks for itself, although if you can t read between the lines, its talking about Anastasia and Dmitri.....I don't really know what else to say other than the last verse doesn't make a whole lot of sense. 

Please, please, please let me know if you have any suggestions for books I should read.

Till next time!!

Friday, August 29, 2014

America, the beautiful

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet,
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America! God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!
America! America! May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness,
And every gain divine!

O Beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam,
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

~Kathrine Lee Bates~

     This Is one of my favorite songs, it can pretty much bring me to tears. I know your probably thinking, "This isn't poetry," but let me tell you; Music is the most power, and beautiful form of poetry ever, it might not always seem like it, but it follows a rhythm, just like normal poetry, and I would go so far as to say Its better. I have great respect for anyone who can write a poem, and music, and then put them together. I will probably be putting more music out along with the other things.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

A Book


There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul 

~Emily Dickinson~



This poem is rather cool, I don't really get the last two lines, but I like the rest of it a lot.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Wishing

Here is another one of my poems, I hope you like it. I wrote it after walking on the Konza Prairie close to Manhattan, Kansas so if you are ever in that area I suggest going, because It's beautiful. Also I think everyone should see what the prairie looks like just because its so cool.
                     
                         

                                                   There's something about the wide open prairie, 
That makes me wish, I was a small fairy.  


Who could fly far away, way back in time,
All the way back, to my land in its prime.


Land filled with bison, bald eagles, and foxes,
Jack rabbits, chipmunks, and killer hawkses.


Wolves would cry out, to the full moon,
Knowing the night, would be over soon.


Planes stretching out, far as one could see,
Now dotted with houses, from shining sea to sea.


Many were there, who called it their home,
That wonderful place, where buffalo roam.


Men out in the field, working hard all the day,
With the deer and the antelope, who love to play.


Now into the houses, where women and girls,
Scrub everything hard, till they’re shining like pearls.


And back to the future, to see what it holds,
A whole lot of people, the young and the old.


I go on with my life, with its silly inventions,
Wishing way back, to a warm log house kitchen.

~Rebekah Plummer~