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    This is just to be able to get to page 9 without starting from the beginning. I can’t figure out how to do that when the pages are exactly full.


    My world is twirling,

    fluttering in the wind,



    shattered all over.

    Its over,

    my world,

    is completely over.


    its done.

    and there’s no putting it back

    into its position

    cuz it all fell

    toppled from the sky

    shattered to the ground.

    my life is over.


    Not really a poem but just some “writing”

    My therapist:

    She carried me through,

    fumbled along this treatorous journey,

    pulled and chugged,

    all along the bumpy rode.

    She held my hand when I was in pain,

    put her arm on my shoulder when I needed.

    She was there through thick and thin,

    always guiding me in the right direction,

    putting my life in focus. She saved my life.

    Not once, not twice, but too many to count.

    She is priceless. She is the world’s gift,

    the one I can count on when nobody else cares.

    The one who will never abandon me.

    The only one in this whole wide, dark world who can actually

    UNDERSTAND my depression.

    I will forever owe thanks to you,

    my name ๐Ÿ™‚


    yitayningwut – what have you figured out these past days? How are you faring? i hope you work it out.

    In case you didn’t notice this poetry thread can have another name too imho (you think it up), not everything is in poetry form and it’s not “meant” to be so either!

    Blabla – hope you feeling better. That letter to your therapist must have made her glad.

    Observanteen, welcome back to whenever that is!


    Hi, Princess! Wow, I got a welcome back before I even posted anything!;) See you tomorrow @ work…can’t wait!


    Hey! Yes, missed seeing you around ๐Ÿ˜‰ you’ve left me smiling! See ya tomorrow – so long till than!


    Missed you too… Looking forward to talk to you tomorrow.:)


    Observanteen: ;)!

    SaysMe – just looking over your poem again – you really have talent! You wrote such a nice one for ayc +1! Keep adding your comments and poems! And nice to “see” you in the other thread, thanks for posting there.


    Thanx PE. I’ll try! Just a bit overloaded right now. IY”H soon!


    Princess – I’m doing well, thanx. Got a test coming up, lots of studying to do. Haven’t figured out anything new lately, except that someone should start a compliment thread about you ๐Ÿ™‚


    Not really poetry…just writing (which is why I started the other thread which nobody was interested in):

    I watch the young boy of maybe 3 run out to his mother. His tear-stained cheeks is all it takes to see he is very upset. He wails and wails as he falls into his mother’s arms. She embraces him with a comforting word and a smile. Hugging him tightly, she reassures him that everything is fine. I watch in utter disgust. I stare, I cringe, and a tear drips from my eye. Why can’t I have that? Why can’t I have the mother to turn to when I’m in distress. Instead, I walk down the street, struggling to appear normal. Yet, inside, my wounds are burried deep within me in the crevices of my soul. My broken heart is hidden from the world. And I can’t run to mommy in the street. Nobody’s there to embrace me. Nobody’s there to offer me comfort. That is why I’m crying.


    That is poetry. Prose poetry. And poignant and deep.


    blabla: I am interested in your other thread, but didn’t get the chance to write. Your piece is truly beautifully sad. I also wanted to tell you that I just read my diary, and I can say, I forget how HELPLESS I felt then. Blabla, I really do understand what you’re going through. Hang in there!

    I wrote this last night:


    Like all little girls

    With long bouncy curls,

    When day turned into night,

    I’d hug my pillow tight

    And dream…

    I’d see myself grow fast

    I was a mother – at last!

    I’d see myself scrubbing,

    Cooking and rubbing,

    Washing dirty faces,

    Tying shoelaces…

    I’d see the kids I’d nourish

    And watch them flourish

    I’d see my home so cozy,

    My future – so rosy…

    Time passed on

    My innocence long gone

    No curls framed my face

    Of the dream there wasn’t a trace.

    For my world had turned black

    I was going off track

    I was sucked into an abyss

    And dreamed – for life’s bliss…

    How I yearned for the dream of old

    But I knew, it’ll never unfold

    I have gone astray

    Here I was – so far away…

    My dream will IY”H soon take place

    Hot tears flood my face

    Hashem’s kept His watchful eye

    On my dream and I.

    He waited, for me to redeem

    My lifelong sweet dream.


    Thanks people!


    Blabla- ur really good!!!!!!!!!!! i get so much strength from ur poems. u sound like an amazing person.

    They live behind white fences,

    pretty gardens and manicured lawns.

    Polished windows and mahagony doors.

    They live under sunny skies,

    chances of showers here or there.

    Warming suns and fluffy clouds.

    They live in turbulent houses,

    broken furniture and leaking roofs.

    Shattered dinnerware and torn wallpaper.

    They live sarrounded by nightmares,

    haunting them wherever they go.

    Frightening cries and silent ghosts.


    I rarely look at this thread, but observe, that was amazing!



    Kapusta, Thank you.

    Puppy: Welcome back! We missed you. Your poem is well written and with such feeling. But who’s ‘they’ and who’s ‘they’? ๐Ÿ™‚


    its all people in the world in general. were all not what we seem to be



    I want to run, i want to flee.

    i do not want to fall again

    into the darkness with no end;

    to once more be stuck down below,

    covered in dirt, fallen so low.

    as the waters pull me down


    see it coming, but cannot stop

    watch as every level drops

    and middos as they fall aside.

    to stop the pain i turn to pride-

    first, I can only focus on me.

    Waves of emotions follow waves of numb

    Wish i could run to someone.

    looking for a warm embrace,

    Someone to wipe the tears from my face.


    but each is busy with his own life,

    Working, school, children, a wife.

    why should they put it all aside

    To come and sit right by my side

    when their own duties call their name,

    Like mine SHOULD be doing the same.

    and yet, since when does depression follow

    my schedule for today, tomorrow?


    And mess with my mobility

    i want to stay in bed all day.

    or sit in the park. Or run away.

    i’m playing on a slippery slope,

    losing grip and losing hope

    dangerous rocks wait below.

    every step must be taken slow


    one loose pebble can make me fall

    and cause me lose it all.

    looking for a life rope quick

    before i give myself the kick

    that’ll send me tumbling as i fall

    off that slippery scary wall


    yitayningwut, thanks! i appreciate that comment – kapusta if you’re reading this than thanks for the THOUGHT too.

    Observanteen -absoulutly great, great and great again. Teach me how you do it ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Puppy – welcome back! Missed you too! It’s written well, and it’s sad and yes, true.. our job is to keep going and try to do what we can and with our experience we know that, hey, people don’t live in glass houses. Even if we think we know we don’t.

    SaysMe – i hope that you aren’t feeling that way now. Is this something you wrote now or time back? It’s written so beautifully!

    Observanteen – heyy, i was out, try again!!


    Duh. Not the greatest time for me now:(


    PE- unfortunately now with the experience and fears of then. I did say i was overloaded. I’d luv to comment and compliment the powerful peoms (and prose) that went up here this past wk. It was really truly amazing and moving and strong. Unfortunately, no individual responses from me this time… Too preoccupied with my emotions. Keep up the writing- its majorly supportive to hear how strong ppl are and want to be, and how sensitive and deep you all are.


    Observanteen – don’t give up if you want! ๐Ÿ˜‰ Not the greatest time for me now for some reason.

    SaysMe i’m really sorry to hear that. i really hope it will work out okay. Keep us posted! and thank you for your warm words.

    Blabla, this is in no way dismissing anything you said or felt. I’m not sure why i’m posting this but this is what came to mind after reading yours – i just wanted to continue it!

    (Continued from Blabla’s post above)

    …I cry harder, the tears collected into a river of pain. I look towards the little boy again, and I can look no longer. The pain! It brings up all the pain all over again.


    Woah. Princess, that’s just…unbelievably well put. Amazing! Sorry, don’t think I’ll get to it tonight. I would suggest that you check your voicemail though…


    princess- WOW. ouch, hit home. THAT’s the inner strength i wish i can create.


    hey, thanks! You like? i’m glad..

    SaysMe, it’s not easy. Rather, it’s difficult, very, very much so. Perhaps because of the difficulty we have to fight it all the more. You have to find the tools and the words that will speak to YOU as an individual. (You – to every1 of us reading this!) We HAVE to keep going, keep pushing, keep praying and KEEP HOPING!!!! Being positive, laughing of the intensity, seeing the good, helps a lot, although it takes so much energy. (or perhaps BECAUSE it takes so much energy.)

    You CAN create that strength. You CAN do it. Believe in yourself!!

    Rooting for you.



    What a word, what a feeling.

    A slap in the face,

    A punch to the gut.

    Total feeling of discard,

    Of dismissal, of uncaring.

    All the trust thrown away

    In just a few words

    As he threw the daggers,

    Unaware of the danger/impact.

    I heard each door slam

    Closing the hallway opened

    Between us over time

    And as the stabs continued

    They approached ever closer

    Each addition, repetition

    Deeper, harder

    Twisting in my stomach

    Until it went too far


    No more doors to slam

    To protect myself from pain

    Broke all the barriers

    And continued on

    And broke my heart

    It shattered audibly

    It shook my very being

    How I had trusted

    How I had believed

    Naively accepted each word

    Had faith when told

    That those slights and slips

    I threw in my pain

    Forgiven and forgotten

    But alas, it was not so


    It all came pouring down

    A pot overflowing

    Boiling with hurt

    Turned back on its creator

    To teach a lesson

    To show the power

    But without any warning

    Left me cowering and shaking

    In pain. Broken, alone

    How could he?

    How could he?


    Don’t really know if this makes any sense. Don’t know what kind of writing it is!

    I gaze at the glistening water,

    the sun shining down upon it,

    the serene atmosphere amidst,

    the fresh scent of the beach,

    the crashing of the waves,

    the breeze flying by,

    the smiles around.

    everyone’s relaxed,

    everyone’s at peace.

    if only,

    if only i can sit,

    spend more time there,

    instead of this foreboding building i enter every day,

    its white shiny walls loaded with GO decorations,

    wicked teachers and blissfully unaware students,



    the cruelty of that place.

    Yet i enter my home,

    the red brick walls that greet me on my walk home,

    not much more welcoming,

    I enter a warzone,

    I go from fire to burning,

    I go from worst to 2nd worst.


    The aroma of freshly baked goods,

    the look of heaven scented chocolate,

    rolls of scrumptious croissants and danishes,

    its all sick.

    the fat that results,

    the rolls of goo,

    not worth it.

    i briskly walk down the street,

    pass a salon,

    the heaven scent of perfume,



    that appeals,

    that begs for my attention.

    I want to be pretty,

    I want to be skinny


    It makes perfect sense. Struggles and temptation everywhere you turn.

    And it’s the same kind of writing as my last posts :).


    I heard this vort once and i really liked it. I’ve heard with variations too, but the original way i learned it was based i think on the pasuk from Eshes Chayil, “Sheker hachein, vhevel hayofi. Isha yiras Hashem hee tishallal.” The question: how come we’re saying chein and yofi are completely unimportant, but yet we are supposed to look dignified and nice? Yes it’s not important, but beauty is something-noone can say it’s completely nothing. BUT only if it comes after yiras Hashem.


    Looks are whole bunch of zeros. you can have or want a lot of 0’s- be it skinny, curves, pretty, hair, clothes, jewelry, makeup….. But alone, it’s just that- a bunch of Zeros-worth nothing, and doing nothing.unless you put a 1 in front. Only if it is PRECEDED by yiras Hashem can it do something. Yiras Hashem gives us true beauty- INNER beauty.


    Only once we have it shining from within, can anything else enhance. Otherwise it’s like getting all dressed up to sit in a dark room. We need the light. And once we have that, we’ll clearly see what really enhances that inner beauty and what only detracts and hides it.

    I liked it. You don’t have to. But i wanted to share ๐Ÿ™‚

    and i wish i could post long posts…


    The little girl is crying,

    over her poor doll that’s lost,

    adults think its a joke,

    oh how much does it cost?!

    But to the wailing little girl,

    it means the world to her and more,

    she was a carefree happy child,

    life was great before.

    The tears are trickling down,

    her piercing cries are intense,

    she’s desperate for her baby,

    to others makes no sense.

    to me it seems so petty,

    balling over a silly doll,

    but really its something more,

    for attention that’s her call.

    The pitiful girl feels hopeless,

    pointless and ignored,

    abandoned and alone,

    friendless, lost and bored.

    There’s an underlying cause,

    to her abundant tears,

    she feels the pain of an adult,

    although so young in years.

    Parents, what have you done?

    your children are in distress,

    you think they don’t understand things,

    and their needs you constantly suppress.

    They’re smarter than you think,

    their cognition is much higher,

    wake up, pay attention to their needs,

    some care they do require.


    Blabla: that was amazing! totally.

    saysme: that was really nice. i liked it.

    A thousand words of kindness.

    will not take away hurt.

    A thousand words of love,

    will not take away hate.

    The hate,

    latches on,

    digs deeper,

    searing pain,

    sends you in a spiral,


    The love,

    touches the surface,

    gently caressing,

    warm and cozy,

    slides off quickly,

    leaving a gaping hole.


    blaba, that was a wonderful poem, and it is so true. I was once told that a child losing/breaking a toy car is just as tragic for the child as it is for an adult to have a real car stolen/destroyed. And we should always look at it that way so we don’t ignore the child’s pain.


    you can break a heart,

    in just a moment,

    but can’t put it together,

    unjust atonement.

    Can cause lasting trauma,

    in a second’s event,

    a smooth surface,

    a permanent dent.

    you can tear apart,

    knots of thick rope,

    takes year to replace,

    lost of all hope.

    you can destroy a life,

    in an unmindful word,

    but the once clear vision,

    forever now blurred.

    you can shatter the glass,

    of a crystal clear window,

    can’t glue it together,

    forever a shadow.

    you can tear a paper,

    shred it all through,

    can’t piece it together,

    it was done by you.

    my friend watch your words,

    more powerful than you think,

    you can change someone’s world,

    in less than a blink.


    A group of chatty girls,

    passed by on my way,

    blissfully unaware,

    that they ruined my day.

    I was crushed once more,

    at the sight I’d just seen,

    I was feeling inferior

    not calm and serene.

    They entered the shop,

    each coated with fashion,

    adorned with the latest,

    they each showed their pashion.

    So shallow in their minds,

    all they care for is looks,

    and A+s on tests,

    teachers and books.

    But deep in my heart,

    something was tugging,

    a string was unlatched,

    up a mountain chugging.

    in the middle of progressing,

    coming close up,

    why did they shove me down?

    in this endless deep cup.

    I observed them so carefree,

    I stared, was in awe,

    their innocent, naivety,

    that’s what I just saw.


    blabla: re you can break a heart. U know exactly what i mean! (or do i know exactly what u mean?)Thank you for putting my emotions to words.

    and just like we all have to grasp this concept of a child’s pain, why do people have a hard time knowing what seems insignificant to them can be devastating for another? You have an amazing talent for poetry, and for expressing feelings and messages in a touching way

    and puppy, you put the feeling into words beautifully. Someone crushes you, and thinks a kind act cancels out that pain, but it doesn’t always work like that! I love ur writing style btw.


    Here is a poem I wrote a while ago:


    The gift box is wrapped

    Looking beautiful with its ribbon

    Should you dare open it?

    After all- to you its been given

    Before your hands touch the box

    You pause and give a smile

    To the giver of the gift

    Appreciating her all the while

    You tear open the paper

    Your mouth open wide

    As you find THE gift you’ve wanted

    And you become teary-eyed

    Your so thankful right then

    You have such a wonderful friend

    Who’s always thinking about you

    And whos always there to lend

    Take a minute to draw

    A parable in your mind

    That Gift is your very own life

    Given to you by Hashem- so kind

    So beautifully wrapped

    You enter this world so anew

    About to start life’s mission

    As a true person and Jew

    Pause for a moment

    Remember life’s just a gift to you

    Remember who its from

    And appreciate that too

    With each and every step you take

    And every breathe and movement too

    Should make us more aware

    Of Hashem’s gifts that He give to you


    Thanks guys for the encouragement! I will never forget the 1st time I posted I was sure I was the worst writer on this thread!

    YW Moderator-42

    The Chaos (by G. Nolst Trenit, a.k.a. “Charivarius”; 1870 – 1946)

    Dearest creature in creation

    Studying English pronunciation,

    I will teach you in my verse

    Sounds like corpse, corps, horse and worse

    I will keep you, Susy, busy,

    Make your head with heat grow dizzy.

    Tear in eye your dress you’ll tear,

    So shall I! Oh, hear my prayer,

    Pray, console your loving poet,

    Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!

    Just compare heart, beard and heard,

    Dies and diet, lord and word,

    Sword and sward, retain and Britain.

    (Mind the latter, how it’s written).

    Made has not the sound of bade,

    Say said, pay-paid, laid, but plaid.

    Now I surely will not plague you

    With such words as vague and ague,

    But be careful how you speak,

    Say break, steak, but bleak and streak.

    Previous, precious, fuchsia, via,

    Pipe, snipe, recipe and choir,

    Cloven, oven, how and low,

    Script, receipt, shoe, poem, toe.

    Hear me say, devoid of trickery:

    Daughter, laughter and Terpsichore,

    Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles.

    Exiles, similes, reviles.

    Wholly, holly, signal, signing.

    Thames, examining, combining

    Scholar, vicar, and cigar,

    Solar, mica, war, and far.

    From “desire”: desirable–admirable from “admire.”

    Lumber, plumber, bier, but brier.

    Chatham, brougham, renown, but known.

    Knowledge, done, but gone and tone,

    One, anemone. Balmoral.

    Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel,

    Gertrude, German, wind, and mind.

    Scene, Melpomene, mankind,

    Tortoise, turquoise, chamois-leather,

    Reading, reading, heathen, heather.

    This phonetic labyrinth

    Gives moss, gross, brook, brooch, ninth, plinth.

    Billet does not end like ballet;

    Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet;

    Blood and flood are not like food,

    Nor is mould like should and would.

    Banquet is not nearly parquet,

    Which is said to rime with “darky.”

    Viscous, Viscount, load, and broad.

    Toward, to forward, to reward.

    And your pronunciation’s O.K.,

    When you say correctly: croquet.

    Rounded, wounded, grieve, and sieve,

    Friend and fiend, alive, and live,

    Liberty, library, heave, and heaven,

    Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven,

    We say hallowed, but allowed,

    People, leopard, towed, but vowed.

    Mark the difference, moreover,

    Between mover, plover, Dover,

    Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,

    Chalice, but police, and lice.

    Camel, constable, unstable,

    Principle, disciple, label,

    Petal, penal, and canal,

    Wait, surmise, plait, promise, pal.

    Suit, suite, ruin, circuit, conduit,

    Rime with “shirk it” and “beyond it.”

    But it is not hard to tell,

    Why it’s pall, mall, but Pall Mall.

    Muscle, muscular, gaol, iron,

    Timber, climber, bullion, lion,

    Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, and chair,

    Senator, spectator, mayor,

    Ivy, privy, famous, clamour

    And enamour rime with hammer.

    Pussy, hussy, and possess,

    Desert, but dessert, address.

    Golf, wolf, countenance, lieutenants.

    Hoist, in lieu of flags, left pennants.

    River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,

    Doll and roll and some and home.

    Stranger does not rime with anger.

    Neither does devour with clangour.

    Soul, but foul and gaunt but aunt.

    Font, front, won’t, want, grand, and grant.

    Shoes, goes, does. Now first say: finger.

    And then: singer, ginger, linger,

    Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, and gauge,

    Marriage, foliage, mirage, age.

    Query does not rime with very,

    Nor does fury sound like bury.

    Dost, lost, post; and doth, cloth, loth;

    Job, Job; blossom, bosom, oath.

    Though the difference seems little,

    We say actual, but victual.

    Seat, sweat; chaste, caste.; Leigh, eight, height;

    Put, nut; granite, and unite.

    Reefer does not rime with deafer,

    Feoffer does, and zephyr, heifer.

    Dull, bull, Geoffrey, George, ate, late,

    Hint, pint, Senate, but sedate.

    Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,

    Science, conscience, scientific,

    Tour, but our and succour, four,

    Gas, alas, and Arkansas.

    Sea, idea, guinea, area,

    Psalm, Maria, but malaria,

    Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean,

    Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

    Compare alien with Italian,

    Dandelion with battalion.

    Sally with ally, yea, ye,

    Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, key, quay.

    Say aver, but ever, fever.

    Neither, leisure, skein, receiver.

    Never guess–it is not safe:

    We say calves, valves, half, but Ralph.

    Heron, granary, canary,

    Crevice and device, and eyrie,

    Face but preface, but efface,

    Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.

    Large, but target, gin, give, verging,

    Ought, out, joust, and scour, but scourging,

    Ear but earn, and wear and bear

    Do not rime with here, but ere.

    Seven is right, but so is even,

    Hyphen, roughen, nephew, Stephen,

    Monkey, donkey, clerk, and jerk,

    Asp, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

    Pronunciation–think of psyche–!

    Is a paling, stout and spikey,

    Won’t it make you lose your wits,

    Writing “groats” and saying “grits”?

    It’s a dark abyss or tunnel,

    Strewn with stones, like rowlock, gunwale,

    Islington and Isle of Wight,

    Housewife, verdict, and indict!

    Don’t you think so, reader, rather,

    Saying lather, bather, father?

    Finally: which rimes with “enough”

    Though, through, plough, cough, hough, or tough?

    Hiccough has the sound of “cup.”

    My advice is–give it up!


    mr moderator

    went on an elevator

    looked for the time

    and found out how to spell rhyme.


    I didn’t know if this belongs here or in unsent letters, and it doesn’t compare to the stuff you guys have been posting, but it was definitely born of pain:

    Dear Rebbes,

    Or his hands either.

    When you have had enough of him not being the one who

    Attended the optional class

    Wrote the winning essay

    Or placed in the science fair.

    I hope you will stop and take the time to notice that

    He is also not the one who throws papers on the floor in the hallway

    He never takes food from the other boys bins

    He is not the one who rides other kids bikes without permission

    Or puts English music on his ipod.

    Though he may fail your written tests, he learned your lessons.

    He listened to your tone, and he felt your passion.

    Though you wished you could teach him Rashi, you taught him persistence, consistency and taking risks.

    From some of you he learned about power and abuse.

    From others, trust and safety.

    For those of you who taught my son the person, instead of my son the student, I thank you for making him the Gd fearing, beautiful, boy that he is.


    His mom

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