Author Information
Oceans Apart - 1999
The distant sun sets slowly,
Falling dimly beneath the horizon
As I sit on the warm, sandy beach,
Gazing at the reflections in the sea.
Even with all of this beauty,
All of nature's warmth and comfort,
I find myself to still be lonely,
Because you are not seated beside me.
I lay back and gaze at the sky.
The stars are just barely sparkling.
I think of you so far, far away,
Not even under the same stars.
We are in separate worlds,
There are oceans between us.
Only your heart is here with me,
Staring at the bright stars.
I miss the warmth of your touch,
And the way you hold me close,
The love I see in your smile,
And the long gaze of your bright eyes.
I'm still waiting to find
I'm still waiting to find out, but I think it turned out well. The last time I turned in a paper, for a different instructor, I lost points on stupid things. I'm hoping this instructor has more fair grading practices.
No trespass at all, I welcome
No trespass at all, I welcome the feedback.
With everything I have had going on in the last 10 months, I'm not sure I see much writing coming soon. The Cosmos is open to me, definitely, but it seems to require other gifts.
The great Poet, J. V.
The great Poet, J. V. Cunningham, once described having to sneak up on a poem as if it were a watch dog to whom you offer a juicy steak as a bribe. Perhaps you should consider an opposite strategy: let the Cosmos sneak up on you and deliver a poem to your doorstep when the time is right. But keep looking for it; your enthusiastic patience will make the process go faster.
Starward
I had the most amazing thing
I had the most amazing thing happen today, and I feel like sharing it with you.
I finished a paper I'd been struggling to write for school for the past few weeks. The stress of it had me contemplating giving up on my dreams again. I'd dropped out of college in 2006, 3 courses shy of a diploma in a program that wasn't in line with those dreams but would have still been useful. I'd only been in that program because I'd lost the scholarship I was using for my dreams, but I still qualified for programs at a different school.
What was the paper about?
What was the paper about?
Starward
This guy had many prior
This guy had many prior arrests for public intoxication, one DUI conviction, and has just been arrested again after being observed walking home from a bar. He's on probation already. The reality is he'd be picked up on a PO hold and released again as soon as possible, usually the next day or Monday. Fortunately, with my paper to be written as though I am his social worker, I was able to come up with some options for rehabilitation that would benefit him and help get him on the right track.
What kind of grade has the
What kind of grade has the paper earned?
Starward
I got my grade back earlier
I got my grade back earlier and it was a perfect score!!
Congrats!!! But, I had no
Congrats!!! But, I had no doubt you would do well.
Starward
I was once told I have the
I was once told I have the patience of a Saint
I applaud this poem from one
I applaud this poem from one of PostPoems' senior poets. I was amused to see that even Afzol Shawk commented.
Starward
Thank you :) I've logged on
Thank you :)
I've logged on a few times recently and not seen many on. Is the site still active?
Yes it is. I have been a
Yes it is. I have been a member for over twenty years. I have seen a lot of changes here, mostly positive. There are some very fine Poets, and a few (but they are a few too many) poserus who think they are Poets and are not. I love this site, and I am very grateful to Jason for providing it to us.
I am grateful for your reply as well.
Starward
Thanks, I am grateful for
Thanks, I am grateful for your comment as well. I noticed I joined this site less than 6 months before I stopped writing, not for lack of trying. I wish I could find a way to write again, but in saying that... I am beginning to think the reason I developed writer's block was because of the psych meds I'd been put on 2 months before... and I've just gotten off them after about 21 years. Wish me luck! I have a book I started in 1995 and haven't been able to finish.
Well, I should like to think
Well, I should like to think that your work has been waiting patiently for you to resume when the situation improved. I wish you the best in your endeavors. In my own case, which I do not presume to dare to compare to yours, I wanted to write Poetry since October 13th of 1975, and the first real poem did not arrive until sometime in the summer of 1994; nineteen years of wait time. I am an old man now, with a lot of medical afflictions, but the poems keep coming---for which I thank the Lord most humbly.
Starward
I started writing after a
I started writing after a traumatic event that occurred in my Freshman year of high school, which was in 1996. After I was put on anti-depressants and other psych meds in October of 2002, I developed a writer's block that won't go away. The novel I was working on, I can't find the original version of it and whatever I last did to it was a complete and total annihilation. It's depressing to even open the document anymore.
I hope I am not trespassing
I hope I am not trespassing by offering this comment. Now seems to be a time of new beginnings; or, a continuation of your original writing, but in a different venue, with a different emphasis. The whole Cosmos is open before you, and you need only select a subject. The words may not flow at once because the well (to borrow a metaphor from Mark Twain) may need priming, but it will eventually begin to fill, and then you will be able to draw from it. I am reminded of a young lady, nineteen years old, who was vacationing with four friends in Geneva, Switzerland. They had been reading ghost stories for entertainment (no such thing as television back then), and decided to have a ghost story contest, who could write the scariest. Everyone but the nineteen year old girl started rapidly; she experienced a most frustrating writers block. Finally, on either the night of, or the night before June 16th, 1816, she had a nightmare that kept her awake the rest of the night and gave her the idea for a short story. At her boyfriend's urging, she expanded it to a novel, which was published in 1818. Her name was Mary Shelley, and that first novel of hers, Frankenstein, has never been out of print.
Starward
like this poem much and done in a good and perfect way..hope you go through mine too .... love to read your more poems ...if there are new.. be intouch to be a good and fair friend to share comments... I am with 6 books in hand and you? hope you do more poems like it.....deep thinking...thaught is rich enough..