The power of words we write

Bringing over maunsapt's poems from another thread.I think they were getting lost there...
Terradiddling

If I said I swam the seven seas
Or flew up high with golden wings
I’d be a terradiddling for certain
For I know I cannot do these things

If I said I saw the Jolly Green Giant
Or sailed with the Captain Hook
I’d be a terradiddling for certain
For I know I’d never undertook

If I said I yodeled for King Arthur
Or cooked a banquet for a million
I’d be a terradiddling for certain
For I know I’d be in a state of lyin’

Copyright 10 February 2010
MahTame

(terradiddle = 1. A petty falsehood; a fib.
2. Pretentious nonsense.)
**********************************************

A Whacked Billet-Doux

I’ve got a billet-doux
And it’s all whacked out
Words been said to you

Words ‘n letters and such
Might seem to whack out
Saying a little is too much

For your information
I can be a bit whacky
With sleep deprivation

All ‘n all, this ‘n that
I misreckoned; it’s whacked
Now I’ll end this chit-chat

Copyright 14 February 2010
MahTame

*******************************

‘Mornin’

Soft melodies
Songs of life
Doves coo
Ignoring strife

Classical tunes
Sounds echo
Birdies sing
To folks below

Cheery sounds
Dawn’s debut
Greetings given
‘Mornin’ to you

Copyright
13 February 2010
MahTame
*****************

A Warrior’s Return

On top of mountain
Throughout the valley
Whispering winds call
On eagle’s wings they fly

Searching for a sign
In seasons upon seasons
A shadowy figure comes
From afar in the distance

Hands reach out
Into the horizon
A love has returned
From oceans down yon

Beloved souls
Forever intertwine
Her warrior has come
Home from an unknown land

Dances with song
Eyes connecting
Souls touch the loss
Comfort with each embracing

Love you
Don’t you know?
The depths settling
Beyond the journey’s you go?

Copyright 25 November 2009
MahTame

Inspired by “Opera” – Himalaya Soundtrack



alot of my work, along with some friend's work is at my website: http://www.freewebs.com/mahtame

kewl. i could post some more if folks would like. and i'd be interested in reading anybody else's writings as well

(i usually sign my work with my shortened Kiowa name: MahTame = teacher

my long name is: MahTameDayAhnttAhGyAh ... means teachings are/is good, depending on how it's being used. i got it age 11, i didnt think i would be a teacher, and now i am in my 28th year as a teacher. weird how some things work out in our lives...)

Thank you percy ! those are awesome...

wow, very , very good! i like this Pax!!!!

i have a cousin that likes this one guy and had been for a long time. her nickname is pokey and we nick named him mushroom man or mm.
the 3 following poems i wrote for her.



Pokie and her Mushroom Man



in the robotic fields of yore

when once upon a times existed

lived a lovely, demure maiden

with midnight hair thrown and twisted



bonbons and nuts of corn

were a part of her delicacies

she consumed day and night

while dancing to whatever suited her fancies



tunes of her native descent

would fade into the deep heavens

to be overcome by immense stirrings

while listening to Steve Val’s ‘touching tongues’



what destinies are beholden

for a love, she, “Pokie” began

whence alighting upon the blue water,

scented charm of the ‘Mushroom Man’



dwelling in imaginations yon

unto the depths of the mind

completely engulfed there in, of

two lovers embraced and intertwined



he, of mysterious descent

able bodied gent of the land

exuded warmth and affection

from such amorous kiss upon her hand



wherein the land of dreams

love ne’er needs a shiny key

to open what has not been shut

between the Mushroom Man, and his Pokie





Copyright 01 November 2009

MahTame


*****

Pokie Rescued her Mushroom Man



whence once upon a times from a long ago

a remembrance trickled unto the hour of today

Pokie unraveled the gnarlied, distorted falsehoods

that kept her Mushroom Man at a depressing bay



Pokie tried to rescue her discouraged man

From the depths of a darkened despair

A hopeless affair he thought he was in

but with compassionate empathy she’d share



communication was sent through wires

echoed upon a crystalline valley below

robotic nature riveted among its sound

while waterfalls cascaded with thundering flow



lifesavers were thrown through the mire

to save him from the tangled weed

mountains and molehills became less

as she redirected what was his addictive need



she’d show him about the ups and down

in living in the crazy world he came from

confusion would wreak havoc in his mind

distorted the direction from where she’d come



what’s right may very well be quite wrong

drinking to drown out the pain of today

or kill the memory of yesteryear’s trouble

did he not know what her caring would convey?



such beautimus ray of sunshine enveloped

the depressed gray shroud he’d cloak himself

love has no barricade when given with care

especially when it came from Ms. Pokie, herself



Copyright 03 November 2009, MahTame


*****

The Plight of the Mushroom Man



He called softly through the November wind

Across the robotic valley beyond the watery deep

‘Love Me’* echoed from rocky crags of cedar canyon

Riveted into the air waves of song in Pokies’ keep



‘Come unto mine heart, my precious friend

Thou have understood the darkness engulfed in me’

Words cannot express what a caring heart has given

Glimpses of an amorous soul no doubt helped him see



Citrine colors flew through the depths of seclusion

Depressed emotions stood at a standstill below

Beauty overcame the shroud of despair he held inside

Encouraged the negativity to fill up his cup and overflow



He had felt down in the dumps, wished to be displaced

From where he has resided for quite some unknown time

Driven and lost to leave the robotic hills of endless yore

Away from the sparkling waters and crystalline sublime



Charismatic light intermixed with the sun’s ray across

Fields of nuts of corn and dancing sunflower heads

He noticed Pokies’ concern for her Mushroom Man

As tokens of love displayed as it continuously spreads



Pokie led him to the very wise Elder of Gray Canyon

Where hints of burnt cedar arose above mountain tops

Native prayers offered to the highest realm, their Creator

Comforted the Mushroom Man as he wished it ne’er stops



‘O November wind, come console this confused soul

Cover over his darkened shroud and bring out the light

Carry him through gentle breezes of comforting care

Keep this young man from fleeing in his distraught plight’



Copyright 08 November 2009, MahTame

*’Love Me’ by Enigma

You have a real gift, truly.

Paximus wrote:You have a real gift, truly.

thank you very much! i do appreciate your comment

i have been trying my hand at crochet. i wanted to make a simple heart bookmark, but it got too confusing with all it's abbreviations. lol. thus i was inspired to write this poem:

Yarn Over

Go through two loops
Over and under and out
Supposed to make hoops
Mine is something; no doubt

Single, double, and triple
Chaining every now ‘n then
Wonder if there’s a quadruple
Suppose to yarn over, but when?

Granny stitches are there
Grand-pappy didn’t get one
Aunt Yarna tried the square
But I think I am more than done

Counting must be accurate
No room for loss of memory
Pull up ‘n spiked cluster; wait!
Need to reclaim all sensory

Now, let me get it straight
Slip stitch and pull it all together
TR to TR DEC to TP TR; it aint
Why, oh why did I even bother!

Copyright 21 February 2010
MahTame

...even though I've been here a long time I still suck with the language,I write poems in german
this one is written from the eyes of a child,so no big words

RITALIN

I sit in my classroom
time passes by
i wished i was outside
i wished i could fly

I like to draw monsters that spit fire
with fiercy red eyes and big claws I admire
I have too many toys so I throw them against the wall
to see which can bounce,bounce like a ball

My stepdad doesn't love me
I'm not one of his
I get plenty of spankings but never a kiss
My mommy drinks a lot
she's often mad
could it be my fault? am I making her sad?

She took me to the doctor
he said I'm a hyperactive child
he said that's the reason I'm acting so wild
He gave me a pill
A pill to make me sit still

I sit in my classroom
time passes by
I listen to the teacher,i never ask why

I want to draw monsters yet the paper stays as blank as my stare
I have something to say but I would not dare

My toys just sit there in my room along with my ball
and so do i leaning against the wall

I say "yes sir" when stepdad yells "is that clear?'
I leave mommy alone when she's drinking her beer

Thanks to the ritalin i'm such a good boy
Thanks to the ritalin i'm everyones joy
My life is so much better than ever before
Thanks to the Ritalin I'm not bothering noone nomore

Wow, very powerful words Claudici! I could relate to the lil boy. Ritalin helps some kids, but not all, and it's not a quick fix to settle the hyperactive child. Sometimes, simple, plain words are more powerful than big ones. I like this writing, and hope you will post more!

Cat Haiku

You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.

Alone

I float down the river
Bouncing from shore to shore
Reaching out but never touching
Grabbing but never holding

Alone
Always alone

I call out; the shore turns and looks at me
Then turns away in silence
Looking but never seeing
Hearing but never listening

Alone

The smell of blossoms in the air
Warms me for a moment
Before the chill settles in once more
The sun shines on the water
With a light that dims at every turn

Alone
Always alone

The river moves me gently on
Surrounding me, all around me
But never staying with me
Never a part of me

The wind sings through the trees
And songs fade as I go from shore to shore
Floating down stream

Alone
Always and forever

Alone





Bill
Bill There once was a man named Bill
Who smiled as he stood over his fresh kill
Because he knew he was named in the will

Bill cleaned his weapon and put it away
And made the house a total disarray
In hopes the Police would be lead astray

Bill was in luck for his plan did not fail
The Police, thinking a robber went down the wrong trail
Now Bill knew he would never go to jail

But soon things went bad for poor Bill
As his family gathered to hear the will

Bill’s name was said right away
And he was in shock when he heard the lawyer say
“To my son Bill, do us all a favor, move far away.”





I weep and I mourn

I weep and I mourn
for the country into which I was born
And tears fill my eyes
as our freedom slowly dies

While I watch our children go off to a war
that there is no justification for
I hear our politicians’ lies grow bolder
I start to feel so much older

As I try to remember there once was a day
before things went so far astray
To when we honored life
before our borders were lined with strife

To a time when we defended what was right,
to a time before honor took flight
I worry about the day
when the law will control what I say.

So I watch each and every day
as our freedoms slowly decay
And I weep and I mourn
for the country into which I was born.

dabobkat wrote:Alone



I float down the river
Bouncing from shore to shore
Reaching out but never touching
Grabbing but never holding


Alone
Always alone



I call out; the shore turns and looks at me
Then turns away in silence
Looking but never seeing
Hearing but never listening


Alone



The smell of blossoms in the air
Warms me for a moment
Before the chill settles in once more
The sun shines on the water
With a light that dims at every turn


Alone
Always alone



The river moves me gently on
Surrounding me, all around me
But never staying with me
Never a part of me



The wind sings through the trees
And songs fade as I go from shore to shore
Floating down stream



Alone
Always and forever

Alone







Bill There once was a man named Bill
Who smiled as he stood over his fresh kill
Because he knew he was named in the will

Bill cleaned his weapon and put it away
And made the house a total disarray
In hopes the Police would be lead astray

Bill was in luck for his plan did not fail
The Police, thinking a robber went down the wrong trail
Now Bill knew he would never go to jail

But soon things went bad for poor Bill
As his family gathered to hear the will

Bill’s name was said right away
And he was in shock when he heard the lawyer say
“To my son Bill, do us all a favor, move far away.”





I weep and I mourn



I weep and I mourn
for the country into which I was born
And tears fill my eyes
as our freedom slowly dies



While I watch our children go off to a war
that there is no justification for
I hear our politicians’ lies grow bolder
I start to feel so much older



As I try to remember there once was a day
before things went so far astray
To when we honored life
before our borders were lined with strife



To a time when we defended what was right,
to a time before honor took flight
I worry about the day
when the law will control what I say.

So I watch each and every day
as our freedoms slowly decay
And I weep and I mourn
for the country into which I was born.

Beautiful! Keep em coming, we have some real artists here.

You must scratch me there!
Yes, above my tail!
Behold, elevator butt.

Wow, I am in awe in reading these posts. the cat haiku surely has its message! and i like the poem 'I Weep and I Mourn'

yes, please keep posting your writings!

In deep sleep hear sound
cat vomit hairball somewhere
will find in morning.

bandersnatch45 wrote:In deep sleep hear sound
cat vomit hairball somewhere
will find in morning.

We have quite the haiku artist here.

Grace personified.
I leap into the window.
I meant to do that.

bandersnatch45 wrote:In deep sleep hear sound
cat vomit hairball somewhere
will find in morning.

Unless it is right on top of you as you sleep
Not fun

I was born in a small grass hut in the African Outback. My parents at the time were Jewish Missionaries trying to save Muganga Tribe, from their way of life. My parents named me Robert but the Muganga called me Hatafanha Ah Eeka, which as I understand it means small white bundle of joy.

All was going well until the Muganga found out that eating human flesh was not allowed in the Jewish religion. They ran my parents out of the village and into the dark jungle.

My Mother carried me on her back in a Ruhka. A backpack made of tree leaves and small branches designed for carrying the young that was given to her ironically enough by the women of the Muganga tribe. The women of the tribe would carry their children in this manner while they moved around the village.

My parents survived on roots that my Father dug from the ground with his Swiss Army Knife. They also picked berriers and made juice from them for me to drink.

After 10 days my parents made their way to the coast where they walked for another 3 days until they came to a small village that had a seaport in hopes of finding a ship to take them home. There they were able to find passage on a cargo ship that would take them to San Francisco.

Unfortunately their luck did not improve since on the way home the cargo ship was caught in a storm and took on severe damage. My parents were able to save themselves and me on a small life boat. They also saved a small amount of milk and baby food from the ship to feed me. They kept it cold by hanging it off the boat in plastic bags. My Father made a fishing pole from some of the wreckage and caught fish for them to survive on. As they were unable to cook the fish they had to eat it raw, which I think accounts for my Mother’s great love of Sushi.

After many days we washed up on the shore of a small deserted island. There as luck would have it they were able to set up a small camp and hope that rescue planes would soon find them.

Another 6 months passed by on the island before a cruise ship was passing by and saw my father’s rescue fire. We were all saved and were soon headed back to the States. Growing up I’ve always loved the sea and I think it must be due to all the time I spent on the ocean in my early years.

Crossing under the Golden Gate Bridge my parents felt great joy as they knew that this part of their life could be put into the past and they could start a new life here in California.

We relocated to San Jose where my Father took work in the Space Field as a Electronic Technician.



Next chapter my formative years

wow dabobkat,thanks for sharing,how old were you when you first left? do you remember any of it aside from what you were told?

What a beginning of your life, dabobkat! Looking forward to the rest of the stories!

A Maiden and Her Warrior



Whence he walked into the atmosphere

An automatic attraction took hold of her

Time ‘n time again his presence felt near



Clouded skies that rained upon the land

The sunshine of his compassion absorbed

Unto her heart till it riveted out-of-hand



Seasons came and went in the circle of life

Loving memories flooded through a soul

A maiden waited patiently to be his wife



Sparkling waterfalls rippled downward

Cedar aroma flowed through mountains

As the Warrior’s hand reached forward



Thence the Maiden and her Warrior wed

While the night sky danced until the dawn

The union of two harmoniously bonded



Copyright 12 March 2010; MahTame*
*aka maunsapt

maunsapt wrote:

A Maiden and Her Warrior
MahTame* *aka maunsapt

Thanks for sharing your poetry - Lovely! Great to see you around, Maunsapt!