Middle Age
Like black ice
Scrolled over with unintelligible patterns
by an ignorant skater
Is the dulled surface of my heart.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Patterns
Patterns all around you
Patterns everywhere
Patterns of behavior
Sometimes seem unfair
Can you recognize the patterns that you find?
Patterns unfamiliar
Patterns lead you through (to)
Patterns of discovery
Tracing out the clues
Can you recognize the patterns that you find?
Stuck in your mind
In this land where stability is hard to find
You can rearrange the patterns so unkind
Dont bother asking why a pattern never cries
Old patterns never die they just go on and on
Patterns multiplying
Re-direct our view
Endless variations
Make it all seem new
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guess the Title - Patter down Pat
..........................PATTERNS
....... ................which.......stitch
....... .........PATTERNS....PATTERNS
............ ...fit....................................into
...........PATTERNS....................PATTE RNS
.........knit......................... .........................onto
....PATTERNS ..........................................PATTERN S
enrich.................................. ...................................which
. ...PATTERNS...................................... ....PATTERNS
.........knit................ ..................................onto
... ........PATTERNS....................PATTERNS
...............fit............................ ........into
................PATTERNS....P ATTERNS
.......................which...... .stitch
..........................PATTERNS
10 August 1995
robi03_0762_robi03_0000 QXX_MXX
[C] Jonathan Robin written
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Asks for a Rose
to the Saviour of all saviours
only bring me the Rose of all roses
clouded pink in winter's storms
the Artic rose no one can comprehend
or reconfigure
the high serene silver
rose confounding moonlight
recovered by kings in flight
from their lost kingdoms
the one that is mirrored in
the starry triptich
whenever I close my eyes
only bring me the cardinal Rose, the rose of
hidden music, scrolled and scrolled the
wounded Rose
the silence of petals streaming
the heart within the heart within the heart
mary angela douglas 4 december 2009
poem by Mary Douglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baseball players have the worst body in sports
Baseball players have the worst body in sports
Gymnast and swimmers have the best
High board divers are fit and firm in form
And football players have to much fat
Ballet dancers look fine in their cups
Long distance runners are tight by their breath
Weight lifers are much to bulky in their built
So which is it that I like best?
It is the ice skater that takes my heart
Their movement of grace pleases me to no end
The way they twist trill and bend
The way they lean upon the narrow blade
Jump and sway with a skater’s grace.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skater Boy
He was a boy
She was a girl
Can i make it any more obvious
He was a punk
She did ballet
What more can i say
He wanted her
She'd never tell secretly she wanted him as well
But all of her friends
Stuck up their nose
They had a problem with his baggy clothes
He was a skater boy
She said see you later boy
He wasn't good enough for her
She had a pretty face
But her head was up in space
She needed to come back down to earth
5 years from now
She sits at home
Feeding the baby she's all alone
She turns on tv
Guess who she sees
Skater boy rockin up MTV
She calls up her friends
They already know
And they've all got
Tickets to see his show
She tags along
Stands in the crowd
Looks up at the man that she turned down
He was a skater boy
She said see you later boy
He wasn't good enough for her
Now he's a super star
Slamming on his guitar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
He was a skater boy
She said see you later boy
He wasn't good enough for her
Now he's a super star
Slamming on his guitar
Does your pretty face see what he's worth?
Sorry girl but you missed out
Well tough luck that boy's mine now
We are more than just good friends
This is how the story ends
Too bad that you couldn't see
song performed by by Avril Lavigne from Let Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Heart
Black Heart is shame
Black Heart is pain
I'm so black hearted, I have no name
Black Heart is sadness
Black Heart is no hope
I'm so black hearted, I'm about to pick up a rope(hang)
Black Heart is lonely
Black Heart is wanting to kill
I'm so black hearted, I'm about to take pills(overdose)
Black Heart is angry
Black Heart is despair
I'm so black hearted, i can't have a another pair(lover)
poem by Avontae' Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sk8er Boi
Hes was a boy,
Shes was a a girl,
Cannot make it any more obvious,
He was a punk,
She did ballet,
What more can I say.
He wanted her,
Shed never tell secretly she wanted him as well,
But all of her friends,
Stuck up their nose,
They had a problem with his baggy clothes.
He was a skater boy,
She said see you later boy
He wasnt good enough for her,
She had a pretty face
But her head was up in space
She needed to come back down to earth.
5 years from now,
She sits at home,
Feeding the baby shes alone,
She turns on tv,
Guess who she sees,
Skater boy rockin up mtv!!,
She calls up her friends,
They already know,
And theyve all got
Tickets to see his show,
She tags along,
Stands in the crowd,
Looks up at the man that she turned down.
He was a skater boy
She said see you later boy
He wasnt good enough for her,
Now hes a super star
Slamming on his guitar
Does your pretty face see what hes worth?
He was a skater boy,
She said see you later boy,
He wasnt good enough for her,
Now hes a super star ,
Slamming on his guitar ,
Does your pretty face see what hes worth?
(music)
Sorry girl but you missed out,
Well tough luck that boys mine now,
We are more than just good friends,
This is how the story ends,
Too bad that you couldnt see,
See the man that boy could be,
There is more than meets the eye,
I see the soul that is inside.
Hes just a boy,
And Im just a girl,
Can I make it any more obvious,
We are in love,
Havent you heard?
How we rock each others world!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(sing 2x)
Im with the skater boy,
I said see you later boy,
Ill be back stage after the show,
Ill be at the studio,
Singing the song we wrote,
About a girl you used to know.
song performed by by Avril Lavigne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Japanese-American Farmhouse, California, 1942
Everything has been taken that anyone
thought worth taking. The stairs are tilted,
scattered with sycamore leaves curled
like ammonites in inland rock.
Wood shows through the paint on the frame
and the door is open--an empty room,
sunlight on the floor. All that is left
on the porch is the hollow cylinder
of an Albert's Quick Oats cardboard box
and a sewing machine. Its extraterrestrial
head is bowed, its scrolled neck
glistens. I was born, that day, near there,
in wartime, of ignorant people.
poem by Sharon Olds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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eroticism, you and I
eroticism is just the surface
the skin where i pierce
and make the necessary
entrance to your
heart to the bone of
my feelings, and if you
allow it
i may find myself
living in there: your heart
my love, our only dwelling.
you must let me pass the surface
so i can get inside
your eternity
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A mathematician, like a painter or poet, is a maker of patterns. If his patterns are more permanent than theirs, it is because they are made with ideas.
quote by G.H. Hardy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The heart has no brain and the brain has no heart. That’s why feelings are unintelligible and thoughts are insensitive.
aphorism by Alejandra F. Tort from Toma las riendas...de tu vida (2011), translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Iona Song
Iona, sweet iona
Island out of time
Your lost child is returning
His shadow close behind
Anger in his breast
Black dog in his mind
I feel like an island of rage
In a vast sea of peace
Like a worm in a cathedral
Like a beggar at a feast
Columba heal my black heart!
Let my nightmare cease
Lace upon the window
Patterns on the sheets
Three ships in the distance
Horsemen in the street
Lord God fit me
To be your hands and feet
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A mathematician, like a painter or a poet, is a maker of patterns. If his patterns are more permanent than theirs, it is because they are made with ideas.
quote by Godfrey Harold Hardy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black or White - Political Correctness
Black, black is beautiful
All colours are meaningful
But Obama is not black, he is mixed race
Think about it; absorb this at your own pace
I'm weighing the two
Like I always do
In all fairness, in this world of madness
This is what I call 'Political Correctness'
Obama is not black but mixed race
Take a look at the color of his face
He is light skinned, not even dark
But they chose to call him black
I'm weighing the two
Like I always do
With a white mother and a father that is black
The ignorant masses prefer to refer to you as black!
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Essentially my contribution was to introduce repetition into Western music as the main ingredient without any melody over it, without anything just repeated patterns, musical patterns.
quote by Terry Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So, essentially my contribution was to introduce repetition into Western music as the main ingredient without any melody over it, without anything just repeated patterns, musical patterns.
quote by Terry Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drawing Crazy Patterns
Its like sleeping now
He got married in the rush
Abels only son was gone
He finds hard to adjust
Hes feeling younger now
Younger than he was before
He wishes he had changed his mind
Yeah old mistakes they seem so small
And if he had to be you
Then hed get out and do the things hes always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Some people push by
And everyone is cursing them
But he doesnt raise his hand
He broke his dreams and lost his friends
Hes asking questions now
Got caught in his confusion
He shakes his head and looks at me
Then he shouts out loud
If you had to be me
Would you get out and do the things you always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Its like sleeping now
When youre gazing at the floor
And on this late night
Its getting harder now harder now
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drawing Crazy Patterns
Its like sleeping now
He got married in the rush
Abels only son was gone
He finds hard to adjust
Hes feeling younger now
Younger than he was before
He wishes he had changed his mind
Yeah old mistakes they seem so small
And if he had to be you
Then hed get out and do the things hes always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Some people push by
And everyone is cursing them
But he doesnt raise his hand
He broke his dreams and lost his friends
Hes asking questions now
Got caught in his confusion
He shakes his head and looks at me
Then he shouts out loud
If you had to be me
Would you get out and do the things you always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Its like sleeping now
When youre gazing at the floor
And on this late night
Its getting harder now harder now
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Sky
Ice-chips plucked whole from the smoke,
the past week’s stars all frozen in flight,
Head over heels the skater’s club goes,
clinking its rink with the peal of night.
Step slow, slower, slow-er, skater,
pride carving its trace as you race by.
each turn’s a constellation cut there,
scratched by a skate in Norway’s sky.
The air is fettered in frozen iron.
Oh, skaters! There – it’s all the same,
that, like snake’s eyes set in ivory,
night’s on earth, a domino game:
that moon, a numb hound’s tongue
is there, frozen tight: that mouths like
the forgers of coins’ – are stung,
filled with lava of breathtaking ice.
poem by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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