I gave up on new poetry myself thirty years ago, when most of it began to read like coded messages passing between lonely aliens on a hostile world.
quote by Russell Baker
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I gave up on new poetry myself 30 years ago when most of it began to read like coded messages passing between lonely aliens in a hostile world.
quote by Russell Baker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words and Messages
It started with a word
You wrote it to me
Began an inspired read
Gave to the night poetry
And the beauty found
A reflection of you
A line penned from the heart
Speaks volumes in itself
Quiet little words
Paint a new vibrant world
Unfamiliar and beautiful
And then it’s the same
As though known before
You wrote it to me
A single line began it all
Words and messages
You had me at hello
poem by Matthew Holloway
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My Next Thirty Years
(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Less Animal to Help Me Evolve
put one child into a room
give him a doggie
to write his page
put another child into a room
give him a doggie,
a turtle, a caged dove
to fill his days
put another child into a room
give him a doggie, a gold fish,
a fighting fish and a parrot
to string his tales
now let them all talk to you
about their adventures
the first one would look at you
and probably say nothing
the second would probably rant
how the doggie had tried to bite the turtle
and how he had saved it
keeping it with the dove
the third child, he probably
would ask you whether you
have enough time to hear him out
- a whole world of adventures
he had spent time talking to the parrot
feeding the fish, and trying to get
the fighting fish to spread its colourful fins
and in between treat his doggie like another
man telling him about all the other creatures
now see the first child as not having
the animals because they have all become extinct
how less resourceful the brain has become
and now if an interconnected mind
is a more powerful mind
we will be so much less creative or inventive
50 years from now going by the rate
animals are becoming extinct
an extinct animal is a part of our brain emptied
struck of chance to evolve into a higher level of intelligence
for all creatures are put here to help men to evolve
there are coded messages in every bird's chirp
to help the brain to develop
there are coded messages on the turtle's shell
its exotic designs to help the brain to evolve
there are coded messages in the cry of each
animal to help the brain become creative, inventive
in each colour, in each feather there are coded messages
to help human, the main actor of this universe, to
shine
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Read my poetry
Read my poetry
My poetry is enough
My poetry is independent
My poetry creates itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is not mine
Everything belongs to my poetry
My poetry creats itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is psyche and
Alchemy in me
My poetry is independent of me.
Read my poetry
It agony its ecstasy
Its inspiration
Everything belongs to
My predecessors-poet
Read my poetry
Read my poetry.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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teenager seen from Above
The teenager around the house,
confronted with the suggestion that
God smiles on him, would be
rabbit-stunned beyond reaction;
but, inspect him thoroughly from toe
to top (leaving aside his as yet
creditable carbon footprint; cash-strapped
is carbon-friendly) :
the trainers, sweat-made in the Third World,
now look as if they’re back there; they’ve been known
to walk out of the room from under the bed
in sheer self-disgust;
the forever jeans, customised with
a designer rip just above the knee,
are of that subtle shade
where worn meets dirty;
the ‘top’ – at least there’s some hint there
of choice; sending out coded messages
which groan-ups cannot read; could be
footie with the boys; or could even be
let’s sleep together, no big deal..
we’ll just have to wait and see, or guess;
the face, now: that gets little attention
first thing in the morning; but in the evening
it’s a different ball-game; Mum’s facial things
have even been known to be employed
when rumblings of an imminent socio-visual
eruption threaten;
but, the hair… thirty, twenty years ago
if someone his age took this long at the mirror,
we’d either be considering counselling,
or buying him Judy Garland records…
eventually, he’s out from there; the immaculately
tousled gleaming wildness is a sennight’s
tribute to the week’s Top Ten…
angels, passing over, smile to themselves
at the view from above; murmur at
what a well-groomed lot the
humans are these days.
Maybe it’s time to haul out
Great-Granma’s hand-stitched
sampler from the loft, and put it back
in the downstairs loo, where
we used to think it such a joke
in our first-house years –
‘God Sees All'...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Praying To The Aliens
Slowly the thought
There is no one to replace
Came into view
And he began to cry
Now only boys
That love only boys
The perfect picture
Of a boy/girl age
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens
Grey overcoat
And he could be anyone
A random poll check
Do you ever think of women?
They broke him down
Into a torn old queen
Living somewhere
Between dead and dying
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens
There are no more
Do you begin to see?
The corner of my eye
Could give me away
Isnt it strange
How times change?
I cant imagine
Living any other way
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirty three years
Thirty three years
~
Soon I turn thirty three
And wonder what I have to show
I feel I have achieved very little
And have been going nowhere fast
I fear I am stuck in my ways
And this is my lot for life
I sit alone in writing this morning
With my usual coffee for one
I have loved, had my heart broken
Let opportunities slip away
Now I tend to do nothing
At least I wont feel hurt that way
I have spent time in solitary
And lost touch with the world
Please try and remember that
To excuse my lack of social grace
The pace of each year is picking up
While I am still young in some eyes
Still may yet have a lot to achieve
I look at the past thirty two years
And see myself an old man
Lonely and turning thirty three
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Real Aliens
We are all aliens
One way or the other
Seeing through different eyes
The things around us
Feeling differently
Towards each other
Fighting like aliens
In this world of
Ours ever since
The dawn of mankind
Aliens we are indeed
In our own world
Like wolves in sheep's clothings
We are cloaked as the human race
But in the core are the aliens
Divided and seething over
Every concern like
Where to live, what to eat
Who to wed and even
Who to offer our prayers to
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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A Letter To All
Today I had a rude awakening
Today I went out to dinner with my boy and wife
One of Alice’s songs began to play in the restaurant
One of them said “Isn’t that your girlfriend singing”
Both my boy and my wife began to laugh out loud
I felt as if I were the butt of some cruel joke
I began to think that I should give up my love of poetry
So I will give everyone my reason for no punctuation
I don’t want my poems to be restrained I want them to be free
And everyone may read it differently each time they read it
Maybe if my poetry receives recognition one day I may return
That is if my family learns that I am a fairly decent poet
And they tell me that I can continue to write poetry
I will miss you Alice more than anything I am sad
To say that it is with a heavy heart I must bid you all adieu
You all Happy Holidays peace
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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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
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A Man Became Addicted To Poetry
A MAN BECAME ADDICTED TO POETRY
A man became addicted to poetry-
Wherever he went he read or wrote a few lines-
Poetry became much of what he did-
Poetry and poetry and poetry-
As if that alone could give meaning and pleasure to his life.
A man became addicted to poetry
And so lost at times
What true poetry is –
Now he writes without knowing
Whether he is truly writing
Or merely using the ‘idea and world of poetry’
For his own peace of mind.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I'm thirty years old, but I read at the thirty-four-year-old level.
quote by Dana Carvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is All In One!
Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Gertrude Stein is interviewed on American poetry
and there was the knocking on the door
that we were expecting
and it was the man
that we were expecting
with the questions we were expecting
to which answers were expected
by those who expect answers
as if life were like that
which for writers it is not
yes, tea was drunk
and after tea the tape recorder set up
so that what I said
I would continue to say
somewhere else
even when I changed my mind
here and nowhere else
and he said Ms Stein
what do you think of American poetry
and we said well it's American
and it's poetry
that's as it should be
and really that's all there is to say
and the man looked disappointed
so we asked him did he read poetry
and he said poetry no I dont read poetry
but my editor does
so I said it's really about Americans
living their lives
that's what American poetry is really about
because Americans move around
and so their words move around and
words in English have lost their intensity
but American words are always on the move
and they are more intense
yes, Americans living among Americans
and talking to their neighbours
if it's not about that
it's not really American poetry at all is it
if it's not about that
then why bother writing poetry
and the man was asking about a rose
being a rose being a rose and we said
for a hundred years the rose
has not been red in poetry
but now for the first time in a hundred years
the rose is red again
and the man looked at his watch
and said thank you Ms Stein
and was switching off his tape recorder
and a month later that
was what we said
in a magazine much read
by Americans who mostly
are not poets no very few but we said it
we know that this is so
because we read it there
and we think that really
that was all there was to say
because that was all we think
is really important
about American Poetry
that the words move like Americans move
and that is exciting for a writer
and that is the important thing about
American Poetry
poem by Michael Shepherd
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We Are The Aliens
WE ARE THE ALIENS
We are the aliens we are trying to fight,
we are from other planets we see in the telescopes at night.
Don’t think we haven’t been there before,
we have lived many lives, maybe millions or more.
So try and make an illusion of aliens in outer space,
we are own aliens killing each other every day.
Written By Christina Sunrise on December 25,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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~ O' Poetry I Read I Write ~
~ O' POETRY I READ I WRITE ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 December,2009.
Poetry ~
I read I read I read
Without asking,
Knowing why?
Poetry ~
I write I write I write
Without asking,
Knowing why?
O' Poetry ~
Read n’ write
To share
Dare n’ bare,
Don’t care
Love to dye
By
Hi and fie.
.
O' Poetry ~
Life I buy
Never sell bye bye
All I’ll do until I die
Lo! I’m no hi-fi.
----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Sullen
Sullen sadness
of virginal solitude
Cramped
Locked away
Inside my own
boiling cauldron
of depressed bliss
I Sit there
and Stare
I Sit there
and Wither
Where is the heart
of solution
...Contemplate...
While you read this
Endlessly aching
My world is unconsoled
I'm beginning to think
that sooner or later
the ink on this paper
Will become no more
than a vapor
absorbed
by a line
in a slow
decline
Because writing
with finger tips
is a painful art
But bloods
better to stain
Pen Speak
keep it up
because they dont
seem to know
blood flow
I'm the spirit
poetry blew
her breath in
Lonely as it may seem
words are all I have
No riddles
No metaphors
Just ME
Passing minutes
as I bleed out poetry
By Samantha Campbell
poem by Samantha Campbell
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So Lonely
Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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