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Wavy
I thought that I had wavy hair
Until I shaved. Instead,
I find that I have straight hair
And a very wavy head.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - I know how God writes his poem
i know how god writes his poem
it is in the delicate, artistic and
defining lines of every flower
petals, pistil, stamen, pollens,
fragrant and scents that fill the air
i know how god writes his poem
it is in the ray of the sun
that reveals their metaphors
and rhymes in the rain
an arc over the clear blue sky
i know how god writes his poem
it is in your eyes, two lakes of honey
that sail me into your warm saccharine world
dilating and constricting to let them
speak more volume to my my lovelorn heart
i know how god writes his poem
it is in the dazzling lines of the sea
that shows the sky how many ways
it can define and redefine itself
it is in the breeze that pulls off a dancer
twirling towards me in every direction
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Time When Tired And Weak
THERE IS A TIME WHEN TIRED AND WEAK
There is a time when tired and weak
An old man can barely think
But writes nonetheless
A few small lines
To remind himself
That he still has a mind-
There is a time when tired and weak
An old man can barely speak
But writes nonetheless
A few small lines
To prove to himself
That he still is alive-
There is a time when tired and weak
And old man can barely dream
But writes nonetheless
A few small lines
To make himself believe
He still has time
There will be a time when tired and weak
An old man will be unable to read-
He will not write a few small lines
He will sit and wait
For the end of his life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Must
She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy New Year To You 2011
Kee writes to you,
My dearest,
Happy new year for you to be blessed,
you writes the best
really blessed if writes from the heart....
You penned few lines on my our book
The harvest of god and prayer words on dreams
Somewhere, you keep my heart and its burns
a kiss of your words....
To see no further than ……
And now our psalm
And a smell of fiery word in this poem
your writes little is the best....
I love our greatness in its charm..
happy new year to you dearest
Sincerely wish you happy new year,
you loves our poems on god
Kee thampi
poem by Thampi KEE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Words To Love 2011
Kee writes to you,
My dearest,
Happy new year for you to be blessed,
you writes the best
really blessed if writes from the heart....
You penned few lines on my our book
The harvest of god and prayer words on dreams
Somewhere, you keep my heart and its burns
a kiss of your words....
To see no further than ……
And now our psalm
And a smell of fiery word in this poem
your writes little is the best....
I love our greatness in its charm..
happy new year to you dearest
Sincerely wish happy to all, loves the fiery words in our poems
Kee thampi
poem by Thampi KEE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sure, I could of done it different... put my clown in a closet and dressed up in straight clothing. I could of compromised my essence, and swallowed my soul.
quote by Wavy Gravy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet Without A Poem/ Empty and Desperate
A POET WITHOUT A POEM
A poet without a poem
Empty and desperate
Forces a few lines
As way of reviving himself.
The lines lead to other lines
A poem begins to come.
The poet hears his hope as he writes
And then when there is a poem
He just rests happily
Knowing he is alive again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reflections 101
he writes not because
he wants to be read and
be understood
got him wrong really
he writes because he likes
to live
life writes upon himself
and so he writes upon life too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Day I Met Nothing
The day that I met nothing
Is a day straight out of time
For each mind was kindly thinking
The other writes sublime
Reminded of the tone the way the tongue it sounds
I’m glad the day that I met nothing
The gladness knows no bounds.
The ballad of a thin man
Came chanting down the lines
A memory of the past
Comes tapping in these rhymes
The day that I met nothing
Just blew the mind away
And the tones of Mr. Jones
Came haunting back today.
Something may be happening
I could guess what it may be
But the day that I meet nothing
Is still a mystery
For the day that I meet nothing
I’m not sure when that will be
For the day that I know nothing
Is the day that I'll be free
poem by Wojja Fink
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Again
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Tali,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!--for he loves!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Man Tries/ To Memorize A Few Lines
AN OLD MAN TRIES/ TO MEMORIZE A FEW LINES
An old man tries,
To memorize a few lines-
His mind is slower than it was.
Inside,
Where the old poems lie-
He writes and rewrites them.
But he knows,
His poems now are not what they were,
And he is not what he was
And the world isn’t either.
Dark days are coming
And with them Darker nights
May we have the strength
To survive them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Higher Mathematics
Twice one is two,
Twice two is four,
But twice two is ninety-six if you know the way to score.
Half of two is one,
Half of four is two,
But half of four is forty per cent. if your name is Montagu:
For everything else is on the square
If done by the best quadratics;
And nothing is low in High Finance
Or the Higher Mathematics.
A straight line is straight
And a square mile is flat:
But you learn in trigonometrics a trick worth two of that.
Two straight lines
Can't enclose a Space,
But they can enclose a Corner to support the Chosen Race:
For you never know what Dynamics do
With the lower truths of Statics;
And half of two is a touring car
In the Higher Mathematics.
There is a place apart
Beyond the solar ray,
Where parallel straight lines can meet in an unofficial way.
There is a room that holds
The examiner or his clerks,
Where you can square the circle or the man that gives the marks.
Where you hide in the cellar and then look down
On the poets that live in the attics;
For the whole of the house is upside down
In the Higher Mathematics.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from Songs of Education
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Art
My pen glides
the paper slides
thick lines
thin lines
curved
straight
I scribble
never erase
I create
my art
my heart-
poem by Jeremy Rascon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I learn the lines that JK Rowling or whoever writes them, and say them.
quote by Michael Gambon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you really wish to know the poets
If you wish
to understand poets
If you wish
to know what’s in their minds
Then you must read
their poetry
But you must also read
between the lines
For The most revealing lines
a poet writes about himself
Are the ones…
not written upon the wall
Unwritten yes…but hints abound in…
can be found in
Choice of subject…And choice of title
About the poet…tells us all
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.
quote by Max Beckmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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