Recent Articles In Poetry
December 19, 2010 by dipique on Adventures of a New Manager
Hazel eyes speak a deep soul
and I drown like a marooned sailor
gulping the baleful brine.

To desire--
With such palpable need
I fear as death cannot inspire
that I am fixated like a rat
to the snake-eyes of unshaken indifference.

To love--
As one does without knowledge,
the chest-aching specter of certainty
that drives men to be fools

--What would you have me do?
Trust to fate and come to me,
Or else arrest this froward heart.
November 17, 2010 by noypistuff on noypistuff
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true ...
All I want for Christmas
Is you ...

 Isang Masagana, Mapayapa, at Makabuluhang Pasko po sa Inyo!
January 29, 2010 by Writersworld on writersworld
WRITERSWORLD a leading book publisher in self-publishing, print-on-demand books and book reprints in the United Kingdom that also issues the ISBN number in the author's name, pays the author 100% of the royalties and supplies the author with copies of their books at print cost.
It is that time of night again,
Suffocating and inky black.
The moon hidden from sight,
Strange chills up your back.

Walking along now,
Down this lonely street,
With its flickering, dying lights
You are quick to move your feet.

A sound from behind
Or was it from beside?
Adrenaline, heart pumping,
You increase your stride.

Real or imagined,
You cannot say.
Fear fills you,
And there it stays.

Almost home now,
Letting your guard down.
Something tugs at yo...
November 3, 2009 by new world mozart on darkdavinchi
The first snow of the season falls

Walls of white and gray envelope the land

The earth snuggles in for a long nap

The hectic head long rush of time slows

Nature girds itself for Winter's deep carees

and begins to dream of Spring




Grinning figure you twist and turn.
Going through motions you don’t learn.
Someone pulls and tugs your wires,
Your body is frail and quickly tires.

And you don’t try to fight,
You perform throughout the night.

And you dance,
And you dance,
And you dance.

Dancing to those devilish strings,
Not holding hope for better things.
Trapped in the same routine,
Your tortured self remains unseen.

And still you don’t try to flee,
Just frolic with imagined glee.

September 16, 2009 by HappyMichelle on happymichelle
Life is A Journey 人生如旅 Written by Jack London     


         From the hell to the heaven,
         There’s no straight way to walk.
         Sometimes up, sometimes down.
         Hope creates a heaven for us,
         Despair makes a hell for us.
September 8, 2009 by HappyMichelle on happymichelle
The Search for HappinessHappiness is like a beautiful butterfly

The more you chase it, it soars high

But leave it alone, and sit down at peace

It will settle near, and then grasp it with ease

Happiness is like a delightful rainbow

With a spectrum of hues, it does glow

It adds the shades of color to a day long

And fills life with tinges of rhyme and song

Happiness is like a candle bright

Its flame brightens the shadowy night

Its radiance spreads the rays of cheer...
April 1, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
Hi - This ain't no April Fool's joke

I've relocated to

Also, please continue visiting and

as I will still be keeping those websites in operation.


Thanks to all my readers - Buddah Moskowitz

March 10, 2009 by CharlesCS on Chatterbox Charles
Did you ever try writing poems as a child? Maybe for that boy or girl you liked? I remember writing poems. I used a particular style I had seen someone else do that I thought was really cool at the time (and still do to this date). It involved using the persons name using each letter in their name to make the first word on each line of the poem. For example (the name chosen is random and not necessarily from someone in my past, just in case):


Sweet as honey

Always so true

March 6, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
First, start with the title:it must be directly related to the content of the Poem - or not. Then, begin the Poemwith a phraseof tempting ambiguity,a detail so compellingthat the reader will follow youas you pull back to reveal its unexpectedmilieu. Continue by making an arcane allusionto a 17th century English essayistor by adding a sly referenceto one of the lesser known Beats(nothing from Ginsberg,Kerouac, Burroughs or Bukowski, please) – this will establishyour lit credamong ...
February 19, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
Everywhere I lookI see the flocklost in their prayers: young and oldrich and poorJew and Gentile. Each in holy communionhuddled around their electronic beads,their mutant rosaries. Speaking in tonguesto unseen companions, each believer in holy solitudeconnected to something greater than themselves. In gratitude they offer the abstract sacrificeof their time. At last,the world is of one accord. Bridging the gapbetween human lonelinessand cosmic emptinessis this ...
February 5, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
This mortality creeps upon me like the relentless single-minded zombies from “Night of the Living Dead.” Death and all her servants  keep dropping hints into my lifelike postcard solicitationsfalling out of magazines. My eyes take longer to refocus. My torso stiffens overnight. My hips surprise me with their occasional ache andsome presumably insightful thoughts vanish before they ever reach my tongue. It’s temptingto luxuriate in the pastbecause I like what...
January 23, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
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the day has been paidand now is gone. These days gather speed as they snowball down the hillindifferent to me. In these busy daysnothing is negotiableand no one willbudge. I’m on the losing endof this tug-of-warbut everyday I try to snatch for myself a moment unscheduledwith nothing to do but breatheand lookand glowat the beautiful absurdenigma  of just being  before it’...
January 16, 2009 by Buddah Moskowitz on I Hate Poetry
When her biological father left she dove head first into depression. The counselor provided by my insurance said "well, let's just handleher problems as they come up"not realizing there were five screaming meltdowns just on the car ride over.(This therapist was inover her head.) Her next psychologistaffirmed that she had depression and anxiety, and she was referred to a psychiatrist who prescribed Prozacwhich she took dutifully for three yearsalong with cognitive therapy. Her dark...