analytical Q Suggest a LinkSubmit a PoemOriginal Poetry

Original Poems contributed by people wanting to express themselves

Please also say something about yourself: where you live, what you do, what inspired you to write the poem, how you came across the analyticalQ site.

Original poems submitted in & prior to 2001
Tell somebody about this page:
Your name:
Your email address:
Your friend(s):  (separate addresses with commas)
Your message:


Every morning I wake up,
To find a newspaper on my doorstep,
I take a sip of my coffee,
And begin to read the world’s potpourri.

Local and world news dominate first few pages,
Photographs and opinions follow in successive stages,
Death and destruction every where around,
People wounded, burned and drowned.

Weather and sports come next,
Followed by stock performance of the techs,
Trends show economic slowdown,
Down town is becoming a ghost town.

Comics and horoscopes brighten my day,
Crossword and games take my woes away,
A bright smile and positive attitude I begin my day,
Hoping to succeed as I put the paper away.

by Anu Jagannath, submitted 7 June 2002, Fremont, California

When it comes to you

When it comes to you
I break down
Fall on to my knees and say
I need you
I want you
I have to have you in my life

Living is so dam hard
Without the feel of your spirit upon me
I am
Watching time move around
Crashing into what ever it might
It Hurts
There are so many constant collisions of
Love and hate
Understanding and ignorance

What gets me through it
Is the thought of you
Inside my heart
Inside my mind
Corroding me
Clouting me
Confining me
In your arms
In your peace

In your presence I can finally fall to that peace
With your touch can I finally fall to safety

I wish I could feel you in everything
I wish I could feel you in each and every small little thing
Mostly I wish
That you were in my heart
I wish that you were inside
Where the root of pain is
Where the root of all that is wrong lies

Life hurts too much to be real
Reality hurts too much to be true
Truth lies on the edge of torture
And I have to say
Sometimes I blame you

Sometimes I hate to say
That I despise you
Sometimes I say to myself
I live in a world where
What should be isn’t
And what isn’t is all that needs to be

I feel like life is a trap
Something to be caught in
Something that should be hell
And hell should be the same world without you
It is true that this world is bearable because of you
But it is also true that I can’t bear it without you completely

There seems to be a flaw in your plan
People are flawed
People are stupid
People are dark
People cause pain
People are pain
People are the flaw

In choice
We have chosen
In choosing
We have chosen wrong
I admit this to you
That I have chosen wrong in many situations
I admit to you
That I shall continue
This is part of reality
But the main problem is that
In others choices
We must pay the price

There are limits to what the human race can stand
There are limits and thresholds
Inherently felt
Where we say no more
Where we scream out no more
Where we break down
Deep into the darkest gravel coated corners of our soles
Throwing the ground to the sky
Screaming out
Or not
Maybe just silently thinking of everything that is wrong

The reality is that humanity has its limits
We all have our breaking points
This world broke along time ago
We gave up along time ago
The evil took over along time ago
Reality woke up and the dreams went to sleep

When it comes to you
I don’t understand
I praise you
I love you
I hurt because of you

When it comes to you
I am baffled
And if there are any answers
I open up my sole to them
I wish to be awakened
I wish to push off these dam realities
And fall into your dreams
Take me lord
Back to heaven
And let this fall away

When it comes to you
I just want to be taken back into your arms
I just want you to fight away the demons
When it comes to you
I need to see
When it comes to you
Nothing else will satisfy
I need to awaken from this sleep
You need to shake me
And say
It was just a nightmare

by Michael J. Barron, photographer, submitted 5 June 2002

A Jinxed Symphony

Shall we play now, or should we better
Leave our doomed dreams away
-where's the question, anyway?
Well, we'd better get started
We'll play for eternity
for the satyrs and our good Lord
for our mind and our feet
We'd better run now, run, can you hear me or not?
I've missed all that kind of cheap chastity
I'm longing for extravagant rebellions-
ruthless fountains of brotherhood and joy
Well, you'd better follow...
I've missed all that thrill under my skin
all those instrumental cries
all that felony never committed.
I'm sure you'll skip a heartbeat,once and for all
I'm prejudiced
We'd better start playing now
We'd better let our dreams roll
There's no carpet on the floor
I could swear I saw earth moving upwards
while looking all over,under my table
for some handful of wishful thinking
or even one single string for my cello
"Le ciel est bleu" - My French is bad
I could swear I've seen Strauss under my bed
right there next to my slippers
slipping away from his ouvertures
Well, doesn't he look like Annie Lennox
singing "Hey, Hey, I saved the world

by Elias Toumasatos, submitted 18 May 2002

Remember Little Joey

Amid the ruin and rubble,
Joey sits in powdered dirt;
His cries are now just whimpers,
For numbness dulls his hurt.
And food no more concerns him,
Though his hunger has not ceased;
He only craves his mother,
Just recently deceased.

She was a gentle woman,
Just trying to survive,
In a war-torn world of evil men,
With Joey by her side.
And as his pulse beats weakly,
He tries to understand
The Hell on Earth that his mother called
"Man's Cruelty to Man."

He remembers sounds of roaring planes,
And the flashes of bright light;
He remembers being terrified,
As they rushed about in flight;
He remembers claps of bursting bombs,
As she held him very close;
He remembers falling to the ground,
As the shrapnel ripped their clothes.

He remembers shallow, gurgling breaths,
As she held him close to pray;
He remembers feeling all alone,
As she slowly slipped away.
He remembers being in her arms
On that night she went to sleep,
And beseeching her to waken up,
As she lay a blood-soaked heap.

Amid this ruin and rubble,
As darkness fills the skies,
Joey lies beside a lifeless corpse,
Tears streaming from his eyes.
His whimpers now are silent;
His spirit's very weak;
He lays his head 'pon his mother's breast,
And slowly falls asleep.

Oh somewhere there are children
Who are healthy and secure,
And clueless of the suff'ring
That others must endure.
And somewhere there are children
Who are happy and well fed.
But not amid this rubble,
For Joey now lies dead.

by Martin H. Tesler, submitted 17 May 2002

Seeds of Time

Feel the unforgiving,
hear the untold...
The voice cries out,
modeled from an imperfect mold...
Keen senses,merciful knowing;
like a broken flower
and no wind a blowing...
Petals fallen,my tear
drops abye...
It's ok little flower,then
a long deep sigh...
Held softly in the hands of time,
we will pay dearly
for our ungodly crimes..
A seed! screams the agony....
To be born again...
"Lord what have I done?"
"Dear child make no amends."

by Debbie Cooper Lalumiere....Quebec/Canada

submitted 11 May 2002

Why am I asking myself

Why am I asking myself
all these questions that have no answers,
How am I suppose to feel
when I am lost, lost in my vivid imagination,
lost in my mind, lost in my heart, lost in the darkness
with not a touch of light, a spark of hope to pull me through,
If I should start walking, where will I go, how will I follow,
with not a minim light to guide me through, or a sense of smell
a sense of touch, or a sound to hear,
Should I just let my legs guide me through
with every step that I will make?
Should I just let my feet walk on the path
with not a sense of knowledge of what is underneath me?
If I were to try and sense what is around me with my bare hands,
should I be gentle and cautious of what I might feel,
or should I be a raging menace without control of my arms,
swinging as they may in a furious action armed with an iron fist,
If I should fall, how will I know that I am there,
Will I feel the pain and feel the path that I am walking on,
or will I fall and not touch the ground, will my eyes bleed salty water counting the time and waiting till I get there,
Should I scream for help when I know that no one's here but me?

by Ericson Panal Tablar

Worse In Goodness

A person should eat good food,
To move himself in sweet mood.
Drugs and drinks are bad for health;
It's just a good waste of wealth.
Don't let ourselves fall into bad manners;
Being a politician, it creates worst banners.
In today's life, they are always corrupt,
But if, they must resign abruptly.
Donation should be opposed ;
Donation admission should be closed.
Nepotism shouldn't prevail in today's life;
As men were under the control of wives.
Once there was tthe best era in being,
When there were only good things;
Will 21st century the best era?

by 16-year old Parshati Patel from Ahmedabad (Gujarat ,India)

submitted 2 May 2002

In Brief.......

Take me back, take me far, far back
To a place where my heart could breathe,
Where my soul felt at ease
And at peace with my mind.
Where all at once I found love in it’s splendour;
A brief and beautiful thing.
Met on unstable terrain;
A plateau of utopia amid the chaos of life.
Take me back to live it just once more
Before my melting heart hardens at its core

by Joanne Medford

There I sat

There I sat, staring at the wall.
Picturing a face, but wasn't sure of what I saw.
A place, a face,or something in the sky,

A star, a tree, the sunset..
the face I saw I would not forget.

It was the look on her face, that made me often sigh,
It was for her touch, my heart often cried.

Being in her arms, felt as if I were in heaven,
And the look in her eyes, t'was as bright as gold,
It was someone to love, cherish,and not care about growing old.

More than words can express, more than the eyes can see,
If you could look inside of me,
you would see my emotions start to bleed.

I sat, and I sat, and I sighed,
and when I heard our song,
a tear rolled down my eye.

Gazing upon the door, like a star, to make a wish,
looking for her soft sweet face, which I longed to kiss.

No matter how hard I stared
Or how hard I prayed,
She would not appear in the doorway,
not now, no not today.

So I sat, and I sat, and I sat,
and I sighed, closed my eyes,
and felt as if I wanted to die.

I sat, I gazed, I sat more,
then sighed, tears started pouring out from
under my eyes.

I wiped them away, as soft as they began,
and then there she was, she slowly walked in.
Softly, sweetly, almost angel-like,
there she came in, as quietly as my tears began.

She tilted my head, and looked into my eyes,
she said: wake up, don't worry, and please don't cry.

The last words she said, as she tilted my head,was,
I love you,
so sad so softly,
then her tears began.

Looking into her eyes, we both started to cry,
for we knew time went too fast,
and with such occasions time never seemed to last.

Here come my tears again,
more softly than the dream began.

Dustin Hammond came across analyticalQ site just looking for somewhere to get his poem heard or possibly published.
He writes, "It came from my heart, and I don't write that often so...."

19 March 2002


Feelings we all know
But avoid to feel
For they ice our hearts
Before we even listen.

We all face the chance of pain
When we challenge our fear
Nobody wants to be left behind
So what choice do we really have?

So we commit to a risk
Before we even play
And there wont' be a play at all
When we don't have the heart to rise

Robert Bekkers is a guitarist, composer, arranger, and teacher from the Netherlands

8 Feb 2002

Last and Least

Life it seems an eternity,
A swifter end.
A swifter end.

A roll in haste at life’s end,
A thinner mind
A thinner mind

It all redeems itself in the end,
Infinitely high
Infinitely high

And then at last at least you die.
And then at least at last you die.

Terrence Scott

18 Jan 2002

A Novel Life

I espy a bright face with seraphic charm
glossy pink lips and tenderness of juvenescence.
I feel a divine message without a sound
there the soul slumbering unruffled on this
flamboyant flower bed. The body embellished
only for the soil`s sake.
And the embalmed spices for stink`s sake.
Ready to move beneath six feet of earth,
The gateway to the eternal soul for a
fresh start of novel life into the eternal
The sentiments, the worldly opulence, the
Earthly fame it doesn`t take it leaves
behind only the shrieks of the devastated
Loved ones. The soul makes but futile
Attempts to console its kith and kin
Alas! that soft milky face shall only be
food for worms. Grave is but a fine and
private place but none I think embrace it

Sree Kanthkopuri is working as an english lecturer. He is the author of THE SHADOWS(an anthology of poems)

4 Jan 2002