Your Poetry Dot Com

Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!

Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+

Custom Search


Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	10-November 10:32:57 AEST

Menu

· Our eBay Store

· Error Submit

Poetry

· Submit Poetry

· Least Read Poems

· Members Listing

· Old Site Post 2001

· Old Site Pre 2001

· Poetry Archive

· Public Domain Poetry

Stories

· Stories (NEW ! )

· Submit Story

· Story Topics

· Stories Archive

· Story Search

Community

· Our Poetry Forums

· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

Site Help

· FAQ

· Feedback

Members Areas

· Your Account

· Members Journals

· Premium Sign-Up

Premium Section

· Special Section

· Premium Poems

· Premium Submit

· Premium Search

· Premium Archive

· Premium Topics

Fun & Games

· Jokes

· Bubble Puzzle

· Cross Word Easy

· Word Hunt

Reference

· Dictionary (Rhyming)

· Site Updates

· Special Content

Search

Top

Help This Site

· Donations

Others

· Moderators

Our Other Sites

· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

Social

Those lost little hobgoblins.

Contributed by Incognito_Bombastus on Thursday, 2nd July 2009 @ 04:08:18 PM in AEST
Topic: ambiguous

Those lost little hobgoblins.

"I've cracked the vessel master, and now light is pours forth"

We have lost the little gods that our forefathers knew.
Losts the hobbes and stoopes, in which they grew.
We have cast them away all the fashion form and false face.

Under the station clocks, look for them there, thet've gone.
The unwalled and unwinkinging camera, he's but a a shadow and a chimera.
The immortals of your flower pots and our grasses green.
These are the biers and estated lots.

Look!even if your at home, the god of my teapot has gone. Left for friendlier climes,
and the cash fish mince has moved to newer tides.

We have all lost the little gods of our times
We are guilty as achild is not, to all our empty hours
such crimes. The god of my pen she bleeds for me.
The morning mirror comb does but clean for thee.
But look, look and but see the songs we've passed on
glow as you listen a piece.

These small gods about large ones cleve, clinging to his boots straps and sleeves.
Or the gridles and the sheets, these sheets aremnow a wounding shroud. They're shrouds
Under our inquisitorial indifference, even the billowing lords we dismiss there power
AS immaterial and thus of no 'pinched nose' consequence'.

The watchspring of my time piece,
The hod of my Ipod
Have these too left us?The answer is no pure wonder
they belog to the gods of another.

My phone, my car, my TV set?
'All borrowed you not to you beget'.
You all lost your little godsCast o'er with merry or regret.
Live without your little goblins,
There is always a supply amply met
For new and tomorrows mess.

Copyright © Incognito_Bombastus ... [ 2009-07-02 16:08:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)

Advertisments:

Previous Posted Poem | | Next Posted Poem

Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more

All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.

While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com