Best Sit Down Poems

I stand alone in natures beauty,
     in the woods by a trickling stream.
I feel the presence of my destiny,
  ...

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"England and America are two countries separated by a common language." 
                ...

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My training at Starfleet was over, they were now deploying me
I was over the moon when they called; I was full of glee
I entered the...

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A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet)

I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time.


"A Rational...

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A solitary man
I make my way up the mountain
One step at a time
The life I know further and further behind
I wish to be alone
away from...

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-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your...

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You look at me so uninviting;
I may have some missing teeth, stumble when I walk, bout' to FALL!!!
Stutter when I talk, but yet I'll still...

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We met in Valletta city on a fine November day
Introductions...hugs and kisses; we got talking straight away.
All agreed to go sight-seeing – architecture , harbour...

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I guess we can struggle when we sit down to write
But use your own words - to plagiarise isn’t right
When I read a poem that’s...

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When me and myself
Are feeling sadness
I sit down to chat
With the both of them
Finding the reasons
For their troubled minds

We have time to chat
I would speak...

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Whispers and intrigue 
and things that shan’t be said,
not uttered or stuttered--
minds shuttered instead.

You cannot, you shall not,
believe your own eyes.
You must put your trust...

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Your feelings in a group of touring innocence
travel up North towards trust and sincerity
in sweet submissive care like a carefully rubbed suede.
You put day light...

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Sunday Morning
I try not to wake him, though he stirs slightly
As I crawl out from the warmth of the covers.
I'm tempted to change my mind,...

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On a pleasant Sunday morning,
beside a river in a park,
I went strolling in the city,
in the dawn just after dark.
Every bench; any haven,
slept a host...

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I wonder . . . do you know where poets go
whenever they sit down and start to write?
I think the answer’s easy. We should know
it’s...

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