Documenting Poems | Examples

Free speech laws

Laws over user
Response in violation
I'ma violation of code?
Next sentence no jury
Immediately I lost control
Living is leaving without doors 
Pre eminent domain the framers 
Constitution 
An earth in form
Assembled infantry
Order duty 
Follow document 

Intercept 
Floored
Rent a right
Ambition dollar


Our articulate article
Misses print
Who sided with before, controversial
Higher orders, adjunct military professor of law
Stilled the fix of formatted text


The preferential abandon as treatment 
Treat men
War with a battlefield of dying poor
My published records of ink in light
Stopped by outsiders having wishes of rewrite French crime

Penny contorts interest 
Depriving satisfaction
Kreb a bus

Now undefine the cost of that writers right


In this absence if article documenting times
How is one literal

Internal Injuries

Written By:  D. Collins 7/4/25


It's said that writers don't read, and readers don't write.
That may be true because I've done this for most of my life.
It gives me ultimate pleasure putting a pen to a pad.
Documenting all the things I want and wish I had.


Just be the man you think you are.
Lay down your stuff like a shining star.
Project positivity if you do nothing else.
Know exactly who you are inside yourself.


It gives it moment to just stop life in time.
Never having to look back and hit rewind.
Knowing what you're for and came to do.
Put forth the blessing God gave to you.
god


What Is Your C W D

What is your C.W.D. 
Not all problems have to be negative. 
Sense of self. 
Self worth. 
Sense of identity. 
The real me. 
Value of life. 
Rejected from society. 
Mental compulsion. 
Going in circles. 
Don’t forget O.C.D. 
(Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)  
Shattered dreams. 
Holding on to the past. 
Just a pen in hand. 
Mistakes to learn. 
End of a pencil has an eraser. 
Become a new person. 
The love of poetry. 
Always writing. 
Ink to documenting. 
Wrestle with your thoughts. 
Not always wrong. 
Be strong. 
Keep on writing. 
This is my C.W.D. 
And O.C.D. 
Don’t beat yourself up. 
A poet forever. 
Compulsive Writing Disorder
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Ink Weeps

Over ink-drenched pages shadows crawled
Filled with tales of the broken who dared to fall

Tears thinly coated the weak and weary lines
Blurring the edge of truth with pain and glory intertwined 

Through every ink smudge a story’s shape takes form 
A tempest's tranquil eye documenting the storm

Wept-on pages with stories yield a heart laid bare
An ink-stained notebook with pages forever declares

Random and sweeping thought’s authorities
With the notebook’s ink holding poetic majorities
Form: Couplet

Jan 20

It was but for a moment that the world was truly mine, 

silence swallowing the alley of Shriver as a crow circled the gray skin in the sky.

I wanted to borrow its wings; I wanted to Fly.

It was but a moment I felt needed documenting, I don’t know why.


Premium Member Man of Color


  I met a man who writes in color
  Not so sure there are many others
  Imagine how much fun to see
  Every day a history
  Of color
  Some are bright
  Like the sun light
  Some are dark
  Not so much for gloom
  But standing upright 
  Is each color
  As he writes
  Documenting a fictional fight

Wishing Willing Wanting Not To Write

From time to time

Every once in a while

Now and again

Though as much as I love to write

Due and to because

What I choose to write about

Comes from and down to from my inner heart

And on that basis and although it is cathartic

My own version and art form of expressing

Delving into documenting and revealing

Exposing my true self innermost feelings

As a caveat it also comes at the expense 

And certain of cost exposing and opening up

Old wounds I have as yet to heal from

So every now and then though it pains me

I have to take a break and refrain from

That which I have come to love and rely on

But nothing worthwhile ever doing

That brings one happiness or enduces pleasure

Afterwards evaluating the positives and negatives

You are then willing and able to give up

Isn't really viewed as a loss surely then

Is it

As what exactly have you lost or learned 

And that also goes and applies to all concerned

Premium Member I Shall Be Your Scribe--- Speak To Your Beloved a Dedicated Verse Cr

~  Beloved Woman of God I am your journalist Scribe;
A professional copyist I shall;
My duties theologian, a jurist,
May I verse hardcopy speaks life?
What you say, you speak life too;
A scribe in term, inspired words;
Gleaning those of Father’s lessons;
You have learned, inspirational;
I be your journalist scribe transpose record ;
That of what’s in the inside out;

~  In the name of Jesus Christ; 
Be your personal, clerk, transcriber;
Your amanuensis, recorder;
 You’re in season record-keeper;
May I be your personal professional theologian?
Penman jurist documenting mallam, Hallelujah and Amen!
Scribe recording dictated you and Our Father’s verse;
 History present tense impressions, for now and always;
I am your journalist Scribe;


       -------I shall be your Scribe;

9/21/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Like Silent Laughter

Like Silent Laughter
David J Walker

I can still feel the cold water
Cool my tanned skin usually drenched 
in the sweat of a hoe handle and the
hot summer sun

The above ground steel tank filled from
The creaking efforts of a windmill meant to
Quench the thirst of thirsty cattle 
The salt lick that became our diving board

A rare moment of splashing laughter
Rarer than rare the occasion of young cousins 
allowed to play for an afternoon 
as other children play in city park pools

Very aware that
	We were the farm kids 
And would curse in bilingual blurbs the
Profane adjectives accenting hard work

I don’t remember who was 
winding and  aiming
The 8mm movie camera 
Capturing the moment through a lens 
that would
Otherwise have been lost forever 

Documenting the silent laughter of
Farm kids having fun the hard way
In the New Mexico Summer sun
Form: Rhyme

Does Your Desire For Freedom Exceed Your Capacity To Endure Pain

Freedom of Expression is Only Free to The Members of The Dominant Class, Race, Religion Or Segment Of Society.


For The Rest of US Payments May be made in Blood, Tears, Rights or Civil Liberties.


I am a Brother of a Different Race, Ethnicity, Color, Language and Creed, Though I Can Identify With Your Journey.


For My People Walk a Similar Road.


We have Known Slavery, Whips, Chains and the Continued Attempts to Silence Our Collective Voice(s).


This Road is Long, the Path is Steep, and the Friends willing to travel with you are Few, But I would say to be Encouraged.


You Will One Day Get There, If You Are Willing to Continue the Journey, Endure the Race, and Aim towards the Higher Calling.



Though Water, Time Zone(s), and Distance May Separate US, Know That If Your Pursuit is Positive, Intention(s) Are Honest Regarding the Freedom of All Citizens, and your Motives are Sincere and Pure, Then I Will Stand With You.


The World is Watching, Documenting and Praying For your Positive and Peaceful Resolution.




Best Regards



Paul Cumberbatch (Author, December 12, 2020)

Premium Member Poetic Correspondence With the Competitive Equestrian Digital Magazine

Such a wonderful sight 
A horse going into flight 
Captured in a lens 
Documenting by the writer's pen 
For once  a horse was used for war 
And now has a prescence of peace with a score 
May we continue the beauty of a horse show 
Snickering at others athletic events saying 'what do you really know" 
You see it is the beauty of a horse that can never cease 
With its artistic message reminding us all of the word peace 

Marc O'Brien Author/Poet
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Detectives Delight Me

Daring Detectives delight me
Dreaming dastardly dilemmas
Deliberating discerning dialogues
Discovering delectable dramas
Diligently dissecting diaries
Dutifully documenting details
Discreetly digging
Dutifully dialoguing
Dividing distressed details
During division of documents
Dendrites dancing delightfully
As I decipher dynamics of dramas
Depicted by distinguished detectives

Self

Waking up in a dream
How I lost for a lot...
From Acnes to aches
Writing schedules and documenting facts
So I believe, let it be!
Cause that's what I want to be!
Sweet dreams: my honey,
Bee hive: how I'm enslaved in my work.
Flying off to flowers, landing on petals
Not knowing they artificial, 
false dreams created by masters
So I have to be my own master!

Left my old life to walk on the right path,
Family and friends looking out for me 
And I look in to find my self,
I know three is the code:
I.d, ego and super ego
The constructed psyche 
To form my reality, my self and my being 
So I begin: from diaries to commandments.
Form: Narrative

Sit Transit Gloria Mundi

Sit Transit Gloria Mundi
Rick Folker

Our current consumptive culture
Salivates over
"Tech" and "Cell" and "Screen"
That transmits the lurid, pornographic
Apocalyptic scenes.

We long for the end
Of the endless 24/7 hollow info
Hoping, even praying that 
The Moral Arc would start to bend.

The dreadful, the destitute in their death throes
Are caught by our ever-present lens;
The Schadenfreude tourist 
Documenting the world's worsening
woes.

We check off the trauma 
As part of our Holy Bucket List
And tune in and tune out of another
Kardashian/Jerry Springer blitz.

All along we lurch from crisis to crisis
Bankers scot free, Blacks burned in worship
While blaming the ever-elusive Isis

White supremacy in the land of the free?
The clown in the White house doesn't get it ....

Or does he

Written Between Nights

I’m sufficiently tired, and have time on my own to contemplate. I still reckon I did pretty good; as the following words will convey. There are a few areas where I could have improved, but I will not be documenting them here. 
My colleagues were fantastic. We did a good job in the most dire circumstances.

Here’s to the writing-

This is the problem
the rest of the world can wait.
Life starts with “A”.

gett’n down and dirty
all hands in
fight against nature

I am a nurse
I’m always fighting nature
but then again
nothing heals better

It’s not my job
to make these decisions
It’s my job
to fight the repercussions

she just crashed
you’re wading in the wash
and she was gone…

Somewhere the flood gates opened
and my fingers weren’t big enough
to stem that flow.
Form: Haibun

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