Thinking in its lower grades, is comparable to paper money, and in its higher forms it is a kind of poetry.
quote by Havelock Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cigarettes
Pack it up cigarettes on the counter.carrying the governer of california
And still they want the money , still they want the tax
Still they want the money still they want the tax
Why not take paper courancy and lighten up and lower the contents
And the p-p-puff
Then you could keep the money you could keep the tax.
You could keep the money you could keep the tax
Fields raisen, growin tobacco
Could be used to feed a third world country.
This is the age of democracy
Everybody's saying : vote for me...vote for me
Blind leader leading the blind
The cheaters and the cheaters who were always kind.
And still theywant the money , still they want the tax
still theywant the money , still they want the tax
THe tax
the tax
the tax
still theywant the money , still they want the tax
still theywant the money , still they want the tax
still theywant the money , still they want the tax
But the biggest serial killer is a heart attack
etc.
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What for is money?
I thought on how could be the life
Without having to work for money.
After all this is the money which we work for.
Had we only have enough money to spend
We won’t have to toil our body or brain.
Solution also seemed very easy to me.
Just have a lot of mints to mint money.
Make as much money as may people need
Give them as much as may people want.
All problems are seemingly soon gone.
The root of all evils I thought could be
the root of happiness of all kind instead.
“How could this easy way out be overlooked? ”
Thinking furthermore I thought.
We need mints and we need paper and ink.
We need banks and a lot of ATMs.
People will get money and go for shopping
So we need ample shops. In shops we need products.
We need make shops and we need make products.
but we also need people to run them.
So some people will make paper and some ink.
Some other will work in mints and banks.
Some will work in shops and making products.
Rest all the people will only happily buy things.
Thinking up to here my thought jumbled.
People needed money so they worked.
If money was available for doing no work
Then why should there be anyone to work?
If no one works then where from comes paper and ink?
Where from comes money, banksand ATMs?
Where from then comes products?
Without products how could then we live and enjoy?
So we need products and for products we need to work,
to get people into the works we need money.
So it was that money could not be made free.
I thought 'People have already thought it before me.'
poem by Palas kumar Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry
Poetry.......
Poetry defines me
Poetry.......
A place where you be you and I'll be me.
Poetry.......
We are best friends for eternity.
My Poetry.......
Is the daughter of my emotion,
There I've said it, no need to interpret the connection.
Poetry.......
Where my pen and paper are sealed with a kiss,
So easy to write for my mind is a bliss.
Poetry.......
Poetry has multiple meanings,
An indescribable feeling when I realize others understand them.
My Poetry.......
It just comes natural to me.
My Poetry.......
Is out there, , , , , away from exile,
And style of writing is very versatile.
Poetry.......Poetry.......
P oetry.......
It speaks out to me.
poem by Anita Khelawan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Their Kind Of Words
AND I DON’T HAVE / THEIR KIND OF WORDS
And I don’t have
Their kind of words.
Keats, Hopkins, Stevens
Shakespeare, Dickinson.
I don’t have
Their kind
Of Poetry.
A higher deeper
More beautiful poetry-
I don’t have it.
I have simple words
And a tired old soul
And a love of God,
And a singing in the wilderness
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Poet
Poetry was something else
written by others
somewhere else
and came from
somewhere else
but the poetry
which he did not know
called one day
in a language he did not know
so he put down words on paper
and threw the paper away
but the words did not go away
and he did not know what poetry should do
until he wrote the words
which told him
what poetry could do
for only poetry can teach you poetry
*
Gertrude Stein stood behind me while I wrote this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs Of Poetry
Poetry is the wave
drenching the sea-shore!
Sea-gull hovering overhead!
Poetry is lilack
Poetry is lily
Poetry is rose
Poetry is cherry!
Poetry tears down the cheek
liquidated in joy!
liquidated in grief!
Poetry consoles the soul!
As glass of sherry!
Poetry draws the out-line
....the cosmos forms!
Poetry paints the blue
....the sky performs!
Poetry waves the desire
...love sings along!
Poetry paves the way
....makes us strong!
Poetry dreams and cry
....erases wrong!
poem by Suvra Bhattacharya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It was always understood that plants and animals, though completely contrasted in their higher representatives, approached each other very closely in their lower and simpler forms. But they were believed not to blend.
No One Makes Money From Poetry
'No one makes money from Poetry”
“No one makes money from Poetry
If you need Money get it somewhere else
If you live your life by poetry
Be rich from something else,
Or poor forever.
Or have a job on the side
Which is not on the side
Like Wallace Stevens
If you need money
Don’t give your life to poetry
Give your life to making money
Money and Poetry they are not made together.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So far as discipline is concerned, freedom means not its absence but the use of higher and more rational forms as contrasted with those that are lower or less rational.
quote by Charles Horton Cooley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words of a Freeman
Let the poetry of others repose in majestic halls:
My poems are filler for paper shredders,
For packing in shipping boxes,
And backing for flypaper sticky strips;
To wipe the muddy soles of shoes
That have seen too much of springtime
In the garden.
Others poetry fills the airwaves, and sits between the covers of books;
My poetry is for grocery lists,
And sudden messages you need to scribble while on the telephone,
And maps to undiscovered geneological treasures
That are only a township away-
To trace the faces of cool tombstones
Under a mid-day sun.
You won't find my poetry near any other kind of list
That doesn't say get bleach, dog food, and toilet paper.
Still, my poetry is from a well lettered life-
I have written all my heartbeats, and most of my sighs
Into sibylline hieroglyphics, from midnight initiations
In the secret brotherhood, of my own soul:
And I will die a freeman, because nobody
Will ever feel the need to own any of these words.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I cannot say that I was a particularly diligent student, especially during the lower grades.
quote by Koichi Tanaka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's the real meaning of Poetry
Poetry, Poetry, Poetry
what is the real meaning of you?
is it the sonnets, the haiku's the imagery
no one will ever know.
Poetry, Poetry, Poetry
I know the real meaning of you
to express my feelings and thoughts on paper
to be able to publish you.
Poetry, Poetry, Poetry
you tell me the meaning of you.
poem by Nadia Potenza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The entire lower world was created in the likeness of the higher world. All that exists in the higher world appears like an image in this lower world; yet all this is but One.
quote by Michel de Montaigne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brian was the oldest, I was in the middle and Carl was the baby. I was the troublemaker. Brian got great grades and Carl got the kind of grades I did. I failed everything. I was too busy fighting and running wild.
quote by Dennis Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Goes Around Comes Around
My pockets were full now my money's gone
My friends come around and now they're gone
Things come and they come and then they go
And where they go nobody knows
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
My cup over runneth with fullness and grace
Yet people push bullshit in my face
The future can't hold what your money can't buy
My brother keep striving your child relies
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
This world keeps on spinning does the future know ?
We're destined to screw ourselves one blow
We've ruined what's pure down from nature below
You'd better look back it'll all be gone
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
So children please listen this world is yours
This message is too deep to ignore
Your forefathers said but they did not do
The things that would show that they cared for you
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
It's gonna come around
What goes around comes around
Comes around comes around comes around [X3]
Comes around yeah
Gonna take you higher
I'm gonna take you higher [X2]
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
I'm gonna take you higher
Gonna take higher
Yeah yeah yeah
Gonna take you higher higher
Higher higher higher higher
Gonna take you higher
Gonna take you higher
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Mama Said
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just IS! (for Gina)
Because you are
the way you are
I love you
just the way
you is.
*******
JUST IS
Poetry is shadow
dancing with light.
Poetry is paper
longing to become voice.
Poetry is musical notation
turning into sound.
Poetry is a world
that is flat
becoming round.
Poetry is the longed for kiss
that’s going to happen
but hasn’t happened
just as yet.
Poetry is the kiss
you’d miss
if it wasn’t
there.
Poetry is falling in love
with sound and language
(you can’t have one without the other)
and being happily married
to its sixth sense
Poetry
Poetry
...just is.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon this paper my life is written
Upon this paper my life is written,
a tree doubled over in pain.
The red ink flows over the skin,
full stops and commas are hair and stars:
eyes of sea left on ships,
destroyed houses, rusting girders.
This paper is as black as the storm,
destroyed villages where there is no fiesta.
This paper burns as reason does,
lightning in the sky flashes in its millions.
This paper is a sky where there is no God,
this paper is alone…
this paper does not fly…
this paper… it is I.
poem by Menotti Lerro from The Poetry of Menotti Lerro (2011), translated by Andrew Mangham, Maria Rosaria La Marca
Submitted by anonym
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