There is no pillow so soft as a clear conscience.
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Soft Clear Rain
Soft clear rain is falling
All over our fair town
Soft clear rain is falling
Washing the mean streets down
Soft clear rain is falling
Soaking into the concert drive
Soft clear rain is falling
Keeping things alive
Soft clear rain is falling
poem by Billy Proulx
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nice Sleep
At your
Sleeping time...
Don't use...
Very high pillow...
Use very low
And soft pillow...
It is comfort for...
Nice sleep...
With out nick ache...
And good blood cerculatin
For your brain...
Sumall pillow help...!
Giddness
And B.P.
For your self
Without use pillow...s
Is good...
For not only your sleep
At your's help health also....
Ok...
Take nice sleep...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remember This Lack of Conscience - 'For Maya Angelou'.
When time goes past and dithers not
One sees the blame that gathers moss
To feel akin with woe as one
I'll forgive myself and you to soldier on
Remember this lack of conscience when we meet
I was violated, raped and beaten within to provide a treat
Remember this lack of conscience when I get out
To see through with vision all I espy
Remember this lack of conscience which will know no bounds
To hideously transform love profound
Remember this lack of conscience when I am free
You will lose and you know me
Remember this lack conscience less you forget
That freedom is precious and not a threat
Remember this lack of conscience when the bars are bent
I will slip out into the depths of crass to vent
Remember this lack of conscience to come
The Devil has a new spawn and drum
Remember this lack of conscience gathering
To prove nothing but give a battering
Remember this lack of conscience wild
It has no remorse just like a child
Remember this lack of conscience like the Hawk
Which draws blood, looks on and gawks
Remember this lack of conscience with the Demon within
It's a Golem to clear the the Evil and get even
Remember this lack of conscience when you renege
The death of love can be ones grave
Remember this lack of conscience and tremor not
No fruit you bear or shall ever to care
Remember this lack of conscience that prevails
The trial is over and you have failed
Remember this lack of conscience and grow
To a woman that a man can know
Remember this lack of conscience that forgave
and now with Love sends you away
For Maya Angelou - ' Remember This Lack of Conscience'.
poem by Azriel Dreams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nostril Noise
Do you not know...
you can also operate
on the nose u know...
to eradicate
that irritating
nostril noise
those thunderous claps
those cloudbursts of buzz saws
those bewailing banshee cries
those sirens ill sung upon pillow rocks
where only softly lapping waves should lull
where only silver sands of sleep should fall
where only waterfalls of dream love should flow
where only whispered pillow talk should soft caress
take out the liberating knife by all means...
a practiced cure is open heart surgery
for that feeble failing ailing heart...
but while he is asleep upon the table
and opportunity comes medically a knocking
drill out that boisterous problem fog horn nose
drill clear hose bent unruly problem passages
drill clear that insidious nostril night disorder
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Send Me The Pillow That You Dream On
Send me the pillow that you dream on
Dont you know that I still care for you
Send me the pillow that you dream on
So darling I can dream on it too
Each night while Im sleeping oh so lonely
I pray that time will let our dreams come true
Send me the pillow that you dream on
So darling I can dream on it too
Send me the pillow, send me the pillow
Each night when I sleep I dream about you
And wish that I was dreamin next to you
Send me the pillow that you dream on
So darling I can dream on it too
Send me the pillow that you dream on
So darling I can dream on it too
Send me the pillow you dream on
Send me the pillow, send me the pillow
Send me, send me, send me the pillow that you dream on
Send me the pillow, send me the pillow
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Soft
Held in your arms in the back seat,
Cruising down the main street,
How can anyone have such little defense?
You're soft.
In between the sheets, left in limbo,
Covered me like the pillow
I can hardly tell the difference.
You're soft,
So soft.
To be, to be with you
I'd leave everything.
But I don't know how to deal with you.
I swear you'd fall like a feather if I was cruel.
Love would melt me like hot butter.
You're soft,
So soft.
To be, to be with you
I'd do anything.
Walking down the street, brushing arms,
You're moonlight dancing.
I try hard to keep my feelings in.
You're soft.
Dancing to the music, so low.
I knead you like dough.
How can anyone be so loving
And soft,
So soft?
To be, to be with you
I'd leave everything.
But I don't know how to deal with you.
I swear you'd fall like a feather if I was cruel.
You melt me like hot butter.
You're soft,
So soft.
To be, to be with you
I'd do anything.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands…
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Minstrel’s Grave
Oh let it be where the waters are meeting,
In one crystal sheet, like the summer's sky bright!
Oh let it be where the sun, when retreating,
May throw the last glance of his vanishing light,
Lay me there! lay me there! and upon my lone pillow,
Let the emerald moss in soft starry wreaths swell;
Be my dirge the faint sob of the murmuring billow,
And the burthen it sings to me, nought but 'farewell!'
Oh let it be where soft slumber enticing,
The cypress and myrtle have mingled their shade;
Oh let it be where the moon at her rising,
May throw the first night-glance that silvers the glade.
Lay me there! lay me there! and upon the green willow
Hang the harp that has cheered the lone minstrel so well,
That the soft breath of heaven, as it sighs o'er my pillow,
From its strings, now forsaken, may sound one farewell.
poem by Frances Anne Kemble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pillow
I try to get comfortable in my bed
But there's always something wrong
with the pillow ‘neath my head.
It's either too warm or sometimes too cold.
I turn it, pummel it
Then toss it aside instead.
But then I miss it and can't decide
Shall I grab it again
Or count to ten?
How can I sleep with no support?
My neck gets stiff. My eyes won't close
And all because of the pillow I chose.
Maybe I need a silk pillowcase,
one that's fringed with fancy lace.
Or maybe it's not the pillow to blame.
Maybe it's my head that's not the same.
It's filled with words and melodies
That makes my pillow hard to please.
I'll try to get comfortable again tonight.
It's my head on that pillow
or a pillow fight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clear
If I dont take you seriously
If I can laugh at your randomness
If I can have a little fun baby
If I can only feel my bliss
If I can ignore my conscience
And reject my angry guide
If I can take my soul out of hiding
And get it right back
To reviving what had died
I wanna be alive so alive
If I can love you without hating you
If I can accept your lack of guilt
If I can walk across the skinny wire
If I can make my conscience tilt
If I can lose myself for once
If I can regain my youth
Im so sick and tired of lying
Gonna dig down to the truth
I found my independence here
I finally let go of my fear
My mind is finally finally clear clear clear
Whoever said we had to be crazy glued
To our personalities
I wanna jump on the bed and hit the ceiling
Any symbol of being free
Last night you laughed so hard
I could see your shining bliss
Dont wanna live another day
Without knowing how you kiss
I found my independence here
I finally let go of my fear
My mind is finally finally clear clear clear
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet to Isa Sleeping
As graceful as the Babylonian willow
Bending, at noontide, over some clear stream
In Palestine, in beauty did she seem
Upon the cygnet-down of her soft pillow;
And now her breast heaved like some gentle billow
Swayed by the presence of the full round moon
Voluptuous as the summer South at noon
Her cheeks as rosy as the radiant dawn
When heaven is cloudless! When she breated, the air
Around was perfume! Timid as the fawn,
And meeker than the dove, her soft words were
Like gentle music heard at night, when all
Around is still until the soul of care
Was soothed, as noontide by some waterfall.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from The Lost Pleiad (1854)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Another Inspiration.
another inspiration,
another inspiration,
another thought,
you know all that is good,
sufficient for blessing me,
this is me,
maybe another inspiration,
more than the religious dogma,
you are the official thought,
I know all that I got to know,
I see all that I need to see within me,
I have a clear conscience,
I can resolve my own conflict,
Integrate all that I have in mind,
my mind is all sufficient,
my mind will be clear,
In all my motives,
I feel that the blessedness of my father,
Will make me get closer to him,
I will never worry,
neither will I fret,
Since the love of God is so Sovereign,
Since the love of God,
Created all the wonderful pattern's,
I saw his face,
I found all of His thoughts blessing me,
Eternally,
I feel security within me,
In all my function,
You know where I need to go,
A conscience,
A mind so clear for the great integration.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An uncertain stage
Uncertainty in mind may puzzle
clouds may hover and rain may dazzle
it may do the work for rest
why not we deliver the best?
i do take it as test
act as per conscience whichever comes first
no double mind for what to do
you have to think fast and go through
it is not good to have double mind
something you have to think and find
it must make headway and take you along
it must make aware of what is right and wrong
It may not go well with the time
Still you may not be committing the crime
It may upset you in that particular moment
But still you have clear mind not to resent
It is better not to involve when mind is not clear
You may have all the some hidden fear
It may not allow you to come out clean
It may not be clear case to win
Well, see to it that it appeals you first
If you think clearly it will not land you in worst
You may have enough time to maneuver
You will find the space as good mover
It is nice to think always good
It may keep you In happy mood
There is conscience hurdle and repentance
Whatever comes is real and in presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet's Confession
Time is passing inadvertently
But to me, the hours seem longer
When you are no longer by my side,
Making my heart sad and lonely...
I can honestly confess
That I can still hear your voice
Through the happy birds
Singing by my windows
Early in the morning
And I can still see your smile
Stamped in the flowers
Of my now saddened garden...
In every clear night,
I can see in the Moon and Stars,
The clear reflection of your face
While finding inspiration
In the very scent of your face
Still preserved in the pillow
That you left behind in my bed
When you decided to depart
From our nest, for always! ...
A this very moment,
I don't have an idea
Of your feelings or whereabouts
Or in whose arms you find refuge
Or in whose lips, you calm your thirst,
Neither whose foreign hands
Are now re-drawing your soft body,
While I am only feeling your caresses
Through the soft wind
Blowing by my empty dwelling...
Now, fully aware that time
Neither forgive or forget anyone
When leaving its unreleasable marks
On those who dear to defy...
I must confess therefore,
That I feel young again,
Every time I think of you
But also, I feel very old
Whenever I realize
That I am without you!
©All Rights Reserved-2011
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0208 If poets had a tail to wag
As your beloved, faithful dog
returns to his dear master's hearth
after burying deep some promising fine bone
as hostage to the future,
and with the long-lunged sigh
of those who know they could not have done better,
lays him on the hearth (with nose too near the falling coal)
to pass the sleep of a blissful clear conscience
broken only by the twitchy dream of chasing rabbits
(and like humans, does he never quite catch them before he wakes?
we'll never know...)
so the poet closes the notebook, switches off the PC,
and with the clear conscience of one
who knows that his poetry may not be all that good -
but that he couldn't have done better -
retires to bed, satisfied, content.
If bliss is then the emptied mind
the Muse of Poetry is kind.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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