As a child, what captivated me was reading the poems myself and realizing that there was a world without material substance which was nevertheless as alive as any other.
quote by Mary Oliver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Living In The Material World
Im living in the material world
Living in the material world
Cant say what Im doing here
But I hope to see much clearer,
After living in the material world
I got born into the material world
Getting worn out in the material world
Use my body like a car,
Taking me both near and far
Met my friends all in the material world
Met them all there in the material world
John and paul here in the material world
Though we started out quite poor
We got richie on a tour
Got caught up in the material world
From the spiritual sky,
Such sweet memories have i
To the spiritual sky
How I pray
Yes I pray
That I wont get lost
Or go astray
As Im fated for the material world
Get frustrated in the material world
Senses never gratified
Only swelling like a tide
That could drown me in the
Material world
From the spiritual sky,
Such sweet memories have i
To the spiritual sky
How I pray
Yes I pray
That I wont get lost
Or go astray
While Im living in the material world
Not much giving in the material world
Got a lot of work to do
Try to get a message through
And get back out of this material world
Im living in the material world
Living in the material world
I hope to get out of this place
By the lord sri krsnas grace
My salvation from the material world
Big ending
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only The Poems Keep Me Alive
ONLY THE POEMS KEEP ME ALIVE
Only the Poems keep me alive
Without them
I would be silent.
I need the Poems
But do I do the Poetry justice?
The world has so much Beauty in it,
And I register my small complaints.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love or Lust?
Is love living in reality or in poems and literature?
Or is love still alive in the material world of no time?
Business and pleasure take the lion's share in work
Motivated towards achieving goals to make profit.
Even poems are full of lust rather than love to cherish
To make mankind humane rather than animal in life.
But romance without love increases the longing of all
To lose everything one is supposed not to lose in duty.
Everything attractive in business provokes lust to lose
One's mind, money and energy in the time precious.
Mechanical life with animal heart makes life artificial
And natural life nobody knows to live and love indeed!
Intellect dominates instinct though nature controls still
Making life meaningless in the profit- loss material world!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Only Dreams I Have In Writing Now Are Poems
THE ONLY DREAMS I HAVE IN WRITING NOW ARE POEMS
The only dreams I have in writing now are poems
Poems and more poems-
I write them in the morning and in the evening
At all times of day
Whenever I can make them come to me
They calm me and make me rest
They bring a sense that I am still alive
They justify me an amuse me
They give me hope
The only dreams I have now are poems
And poems keep me alive
As long as they can.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Busy Life
THE busy days are here
crowding themselves
packed like sardines
but there is still joy somehow
in this fast paced
life,
reading between the lines
amidst this crowd,
the poems keep on whistling
they have a beautiful world
within and
i keep on listening
still abreast
as alive as
a fledgling about
to fly
away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost Poems
When I was a child about the age of 5,
I wrote a ton of poems late at night,
I gave them to my school teacher
who thought they were great,
but I never did see them again to this date.
My mom tells me I became despairingly mad,
then I became really sad,
which then made me cry and cry,
so to make up for lost time,
and also before I lose my mind,
I write Purple Poems that really do rhyme.
That my friend is what you will find,
when reading Purple Poems from Christina Sunrise.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.6,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgiveness (Realization)
forgiveness is the energy
of realization...
realizing, the person you're
mad at or hurt by is just an
extension of yourself, another
part of you. realizing, the act
they've committed against you
is just a human act, whether
done on purpose, or without
thinking... realizing, that you
commit similar acts in your day
to day existence...
realizing, not forgiving, holding
on to the anger and pain, only
hurts you yourself! it becomes a
form of prison, self-imposed...
realizing, the mistake is not the
person!
forgiveness, the realization of
freedom in relationships!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stifle not the reader
Reading is an art,
reading is a tool.
Those who think it dumb,
must be such a fool.
Reading is enjoyment,
reading is a blast.
Reading is a separate entity
from the future and the past.
Reading is done in present,
though written in a tense.
Reading is about life,
in surprise or suspense.
Reading is a place of joy,
full of hope and song,
Reading is a place I feel
that I truly do belong.
A trapdoor to a fantasy,
A world thought lost to us,
Reading is a place of wonder,
a place that we can trust.
Why read about reality,
when I can delve into magic.
Why stifle my own happiness,
with scenarios so tragic.
Stifle not the reader,
for it is their choice alone.
Reading is an outlet,
for hearts that turned to stone.
I Write My Poems/They Keep Me Alive In Writing Now
I write my poems
They keep me alive in writing now
I can't write as I once did
I have the poems
These I can still do
I have to think what will be
When I lose them
The poems that keep me alive now
And one day will stop also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spirits In The Material World
There is no political solution
To our troubled evolution
Have no faith in constitution
There is no bloody revolution
We are spirits in the material world
Our so-called leaders speak
With words they try to jail you
The subjugate the meek
But its the rhetoric of failure
We are spirits in the material world
Where does the answer lie?
Living from day to day
If its something we cant buy
There must be another way
We are spirits in the material world
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Ever Leave This World Alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your
feet tonight
Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive
So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive
She says I'm okay; I'm alright
song performed by by Flogging Molly from Drunken Lullabies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost Poems
When I was a child about the age of 5,
I wrote a ton of poems late at night,
I gave them to my school teacher
who thought they were great,
but I never did see them again to this date.
My mom tells me I became despairingly mad,
then I became really sad,
which then made me cry and cry,
so to make up for lost time,
and also before I lose my mind,
I write Purple Poems that really do rhyme.
That my friend is what you will find,
when reading Purple Poems from Christina Sunrise.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.6,2011
Content copyright 2010-2011. Chevalier Originals
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gratis Et Amore
for the poems that i have written
and which you read
by heart, i bless you with a prayer for luck
for another year
for the poems which i have not written yet,
i wish you a longer life, so you may read them
when they become finally written
for the poems i have in mind and which i will not write
i wish you patience i wish you some prayers
may these poems realize their worth
may they decide to become truths
with you i pray that God may be also kind
for those still unspoken
and may God bless your mind
may they open up like tight buds to become the flowers
of the world, the sun to warm them, the rain to shower them
may these poems live and linger
may they be like grass always unswerving to grow and cover everything
alive and loving.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Origin
The Origin
Poems begin with
a memory,
thus a child
cannot be a poet.
But poems can also
begin with a dream
of a past that has yet
to be a future.
A child can do that
it dreams
and is therefore
a bard
no one listens to
‘cause a child talk
gibberish.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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My Poems
When I sing poems, I sing for me and for me alone. As I read my poems, I see that I have much to perfect in this art. I force rhyme schemes, my rythm goes into off beat tangents, I have more song than substance, incomplete incongruous thoughts, terrible syntax, obscure, almost too obscure meanings but beauty I have and love, and an honest heart. I realize my poems are me, all my inconsistencies, flaws, beauty and love. That's why I sing poems, sing for me and me alone…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Poetry In The Mature 21st Century
ဧရာ၀တီ:
hand is a hand.poetry is poetry.poems have titles or untitled titled but poems are poems; a problems of not being to conceptualize the differentiate name or genre is a problems of technique and subtance of a poem which itself has no substance; a paradoxical depths of simplicity on being-becoming-doing- process- product pradym of contemporary culture.
The Letter, 1974
A certain man was left alone
Creating work for his hands to own
Left alone by his woman lover
Abandoned by a man, his brother
Humbled he lay reading poems
Relearning faith from modern bibles
Reading in poems of a fool Isaiah
Instructed in his own desire
A dreaming man once found a letter
Beloved hands, but not for him
A letter returned to the stars
To free him from his burning heart.
poem by Frank Bana
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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The Eve of My Death
The eve of my death, a baby was born, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, a baby took her first stumbling steps, and this kept me
alive.
The eve of my death, a school bus filled with laughing children drove away,
and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I looked out my window to see my child be swept
away to prom, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, my baby, my child reached out her hand to accept her
diploma, she is not a baby or a child any more, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I walked with my daughter down the isle, and this kept
me alive.
The eve of my death, I held my new born grandson in my arms, and this kept
me alive.
The day of my death, I feel my grandson's tears hit me like a cool spring rain,
I see his father behind a podium an inch away from tears, I feel the
flowers on the casket that holds the only thing that keeps me alive.
poem by Stephen Howard
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