Me, the Poet? and She?
Me the Poet? and she?
Any time I am to handle her
It is a pleasure to both
She accommodates me so well
And accepts all my maneuvers
With silence and giving me
Signs of her enjoying
Each move and touch of mine
It is always a new experience
When I approach her
For negotiating her
As each time her curves and shades change
Apparently exciting me
The product of our association
Is also a pleasure to us
And to others as well
As the outputs always have
Something new to convey
And something new to show up
They display more the
Reflections of me while
They invariably inherit her beauty
The conception of the product is
Instantaneous and it is triggered
Mostly by the environment we are in
While I have words to express
My longing for her
She never once uttered a word
On the love she has for me
But she herself is an expression
More than her love
It is her blessing I am able to
Maintain my relations with her
She at times chooses to stay
Off me when I am drowned in
Thoughts not congenial for our getting close
Her inviting beauty
Her flexibility to suit my moods
Her tolerance to my non-sense
Her exciting curves
Her awesome shades and
Her intoxicating scent
Made me lost to her
Whenever I am in her vicinity
And I am a lifetime prisoner
To this marvelous creation
Hold on friends
Stop your imagination
Written in love for
The language I use while scripting
Me, the poet and
She, the English
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Related quotes
I Was, Once, Too Beautiful....
first there was a word
you listen carefully
it is uttered
it is not the word
but how beauty presents itself to you
it is awesome
then the word was gone
you have paid no attention to it
it is beauty that
strikes you
and wish some more to see it again
beauty parades itself in nudity
you fell in awesome silence
who can speak about it?
you are shut into a room of amazement
this wish to possess and hold and
not lose the grasp
but beauty does not belong to you
neither does it belong to anyone else
it escapes and then lost forever
time takes it
and time does not give it back
you mourn
but in the middle of your grief
you accept
i too was once
that beauty, so why should i grieve some more?
i too was that beauty
that never was once possessed by someone else
now it is not the grief
but that selfishness
and greed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bubbles of Love
This poem was inspired while watching the MTV reality show A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. take it or leave it, you can interprete it the way you want.
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
There is something odd I wish to express
One day I had one shot too many for a penny
As my eyes opened up to 'Bubbles of love'
Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
This awesome beauty that you possess
Your tanned skin calls for a touch of caress
Bubbles of love
Bubbles of love
Your succulent lips demand a kiss of finesse
And lets not forget the sexy curves you possess
Bubbles of Love
Bubbles of Love
I will fight with words not fists and head butts
I can't help feeling all hot with no second thoughts
These feelings I wish sometimes to suppress
Because I play my life like a game of chess
I know youthful beauty fades as that is its trade
But yours merely radiates over man and hand-made
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
Sometimes I do things in a little excess
It is you I wish to undress in your nightdress
While your breasts pressed against my bareness
Rather than breaking loves no one code
By driving carelessly on slippery roads
For you I'll wear my heart on my sleeve
Kisses, romance, love, the whole lot we can achieve
I see only 'Bubbles of love'
Beyond your smile and sexy little curves
I see only 'Bubbles of love'
In you, a ravishing blessing from above
Miss Tequila I wish to confess
It is you I wish and want to process
One day I had one shot too many for a penny
And in you I saw my little American Princess
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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What Kind Of Poet Is He?
To express oneself with words is to be a poet.
Generally anyone who writes could be considered a poet.
It just to what magnitude, and degree are you?
Do you do it with passion?
Do you do it with a sense fashion? (I try to do it with both, but that is not always achieved. But I always do it with passion for I love to write.)
Does their always have to be a purpose behind it?
Or can you start writing and see where it leads.(A lot of the time that's me, but I do both with and without purpose.)
Do you do it all the time, does come in waves, or is it a one time thing.(For me it comes in waves.)
Is they a trigger, or is it spur of the moment? (Me in general it is triggered by an emotion. It doesn't matter where it comes from either.)
So you see it's not a question of are you a poet, but what kind of poet are you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Fragrance Jasmine ` Vavroovahana Patra
Beautiful silvery woman endowed with a garland of jasmines passes on the way;
The peerless heavenly beauty of the fairy, the fragrance of jasmines brings gay.
Wavy curly crisp hair pervades waves of enchantment;
In poet’s mind plays waves of merriment.
The beauty allures, enthuses the poet with profound pleasure;
Poet’s mind concentrates on the beauty, thinks a beautiful creation is joy for ever.
The Beauty entices with the twinkling of eye;
Poet derives profound pleasure, love affection, gay.
The Beauty is a Deity on Earth;
Is a melodious brook of mirth.
Evaporates the worries, anxieties pervading the fragrance of jasmines with loving conversation for ever;
Beautiful is the creation and unknown creator.
The Beauty of Beauties is the unknown Deity;
Is the Delight of Delights.
God’s omnipresence reveals, pervades through Beauty;
She is a sweet lovely melodious Brook of Delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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The Choice
Some inherit manly beauty,
Some come into worldly wealth;
Some have lofty sense of duty,
Others boast exultant health.
Though the pick may be confusing,
Health, wealth, charm or character,
If you had the chance of choosing
Which would you prefer?
I'm not sold on body beauty,
Though health I appreciate;
Character and sense of duty
I resign to Men of State.
I don't need a heap of money;
Oh I know I'm hard to please.
Though to you it may seem funny,
I want none of these.
No, give me Imagination,
And the gift of weaving words
Into patterns of creation,
With the lilt of singing birds;
Passion and the power to show it,
Sense of life with love expressed:
Let my be a bloody poet,--
You can keep the rest.
poem by Robert William Service
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Tell Tale Signs
Written: stock aitken waterman
1:
You never send me flowers
You dont wanna hold my hand
When I was sad or lonely
You used to understand
Maybe these are the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
2:
You never say you love me
You never kiss me anymore
When I come home late
You never meet me at the door
Maybe these are the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
3:
Anniversaries come and go
Theyre just another day
Remember when our love was new
The promises we made
Love was so exciting
The feelings were brand new
But thats another place and time
And another you
4:
Can there be a happy ending
Is there any turning back
Or have we fallen into
That same old lovers trap
We see all the tell tale signs
Lets stop our love slipping away
Weve seen all the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Innocent Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Innocent beauty lives below the mountain;
Enjoys the beauty of the fountain.
Magnifies the beauty of Nature;
With sweet conversation contents poet’s desire.
Innocent Beauty is a beautiful flower;
In the lap of Nature is a lovely creature.
Her innocence provides inspiration;
She is a cosy rosy Beauty in the lap of Creation.
A little sweet conversation delights the poet day and night;
He is inspired to depict verses with delight.
Derives peace and pleasure;
Derives peace from the lap of Nature.
Beauty passes on the path delightfully;
Poet depicts poems gaily.
Enchants enjoying the Beauty;
She is a Brook of Gaiety.
Vernal Sun beam provides gay;
Beauteous looks the vernal day.
People enchant delightfully;
Poet surrenders on Mother’s feet gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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0396 The Almost Unknown Language
I like to think that
there's a language
which is unspoken, unwritten
except
on rare occasions when a poet
puts two words together or
sometimes even
a whole line
which haunts the reader
beyond sense, even
beyond understanding and
beyond beauty as perceived and
beyond truth as previously revealed
but good beyond hope and yet
not beyond a shiver of delight and
the poet has heard it
in the space between the thoughts
in the space between the words
in the silence between the thoughts
in the silence between the words
and somewhere very wonderful
two beings we've never seen
look at each other
and smile
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Wonderful Beautiful Lady Has Golden Eyes
Your angel eyes cursed me from the first time I met you
Your eyes have magic made me follow you simply
Your eyes colors stolen the color of the honey
Because the color of your eyes its gold
Your eyes shining in the night same the stars in the sky
I had never seen like you in whole the world
On all these specifications in you is not finished yet because you are unlimited in the beauty
Your long blond hair is very awesome
When the air plays with your blond hair & its fly when you are walking
Oh my god
I'm dying on this section of your beauty
Your awesome beauty chasing me everywhere I go
I can't remove you from my head simply
I see your picture always in front of my eyes
You burned fire inside my heart
I woke up on a dream I can't tolerance it simply
I can't tolerance your love simply
You are very hard love on me
But at the end I must accept it because this is my fate
May be I can't do everything for you that you want
But I have a white romantic heart it's for you only
So please except this heart that it's in your hands
I don't have money but I have this heart
I can give you only the real love in whole your life
But I can't build castles in the air & all suddenly fail down on the ground
This is me my lovely lady
The answer is up to you
I'm waiting for your answer
I became a romantic poet because of you
I became a famous poet & everybody know my love for you how its looks like
I loved you from the first time I met you
You are always in my head & I had never forget you for a while
I will still love you forever in whole my life
To my last day of my life
To my death day
You are my first love & my last love in whole my life forever, forever
Sincerely
Your Lover Forever In Whole Your Life
The Romantic Man
Ali Sabry
Awesome Beauty
When the golden sunset
Sets over the amber hills
And when the moon shines bright
And all the world stands still
There is beauty, awesome beauty
God took the dust and formed a man
He paints each sunrise with His hand
He took all the love within His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
When the storm clouds come
And thunder rolls
When skies are dark
And it hardens the soul
There's beauty, awesome beauty
God took all the love within His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
Through every age
There is a call
To admire the creation
He gave us all
It is beauty, awesome beauty
See the beauty, hear the call
Enjoy the life He gave us all
God took the love in His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
((May 17th,2000))
poem by Danny Speicher
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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Written words
Written words
~
Where the written words
Depict the heart itself
How can it fail to touch the soul
The beauty of language
In the expression of thought
Is the unbound creation
Within us all
It is know as humane beauty
The life breath
A belief in a dream
Immortal and thought filled
Alive upon the page
There the written word exists
Reflecting the world
Depicting the heart itself
How can it fail to touch
A human soul
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Bleeding words^^>>>
To talk with you doesn't make any sense,
When your bloody words can hurt me so much.
An exciting show is your best defense,
Slaughtered thoughts dropp naked at soul touch.
The bleeding screams are sutured in my soul.
Your silence in my time of torment grips
Your domination for a selfish goal
And inconceivable are my truth's lips.
Go away, give me a chance to miss you.
I'm your white prisoner in this drama love.
Between deformed walls, our jazz is a blue
Touch of our sky to reach the stars above.
© Marieta.Maglas 2010
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Telltale Signs
1: You never send me flowers
You don't wanna hold my hand
When I was sad or lonely
You used to understand
Maybe these are the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
2: You never say you love me
You never kiss me anymore
When I come home late
You never meet me at the door
Maybe these are the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
3: Anniversaries come and go
They're just another day
Remember when our love was new
The promises we made
Love was so exciting
The feelings were brand new
But that's another place and time
And another you
4: Can there be a happy ending
Is there any turning back
Or have we fallen into
That same old lover's trap
We see all the tell tale signs
Let's stop our love slipping away
We've seen all the tell tale signs
Of our love slipping away
song performed by by Kylie Minogue from Enjoy Yourself
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't know what to say....
When my old love for you dies a new love blooms. If I loved myself as I love you, a God I would become. When I am lost in the desert of despair, my memory of you is my mirage. A river of sweetness is your tears, their passion is my elixir. If there be no pleasure in our love anymore, than the pain of the pleasure once felt is my consolation. To others peace is the love of solitude, you are the love of my solitude. My heart is lost in thy abyss, and its dark depths I cry. O sweet love O sweet love! My love is in thy sigh. Thy voice brings sweeter messages than the angel Gabriel. If thou chose to hate me, I hate myself the more and thy hate I love, like hate has never been loved before. Underneath the veil of thy shadow my soul does softly glow. On thy skin, my color, does so eloquently express, the universal of love that beats in every poet's chest. I don't know why my heart beats the chords of love to me this day, but I hope they beat forever and to this charm I pray….. When thy speak of being misunderstood, my love echoes in thy heart. If I were to die, all my dreams and aspirations would be attained by thy one sweet breathe no death could take away. God should not give thee to one, one should give thee to God. I have nothing else to say, but sometimes all the expression of the beauty of the love I feel for you gets stolen by three words… I love you.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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African American Beauty
Brown skin, black hair, brown eyes, and sweet personality.
That is my culture.
My culture is about the beauty of black women
who are not afraid to show their curves
and express their beauty in the most sexiest way.
We come in all shapes and sizes.
Small, curvaceous,
voluptuous, and more to love.
From that neck bone to that chicken bone,
we are African American beauty.
We invented the big booties and big breasts.
Nice think healthy hair, some nicely wrapped.
We are truly a God sent creation.
Extremely talented to bless people across the country.
We have made ways for so many people.
Step by step
Minute by minute
Day by day
We continue to show people that we are a serious culture
Love to play n have fun
But knows when to stop to take life
And grab it by the horns.
Being strong and not intimidated
Holding on to what we know is right
Being of the minority
When it comes to
Sex
Drugs
Murder
Being of the majority
When it come to
SUCCESS!
What more can I say
We are truly what we say we are
African American Beauty.
poem by Carrie Suter
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Bareipani Waterfall Vavroovahana Patra
Bareipani waterfall looks beautiful;
Mind is delightful.
Second largest waterfall of India In Odisha entices tourists daily;
In Abhayaranya the waterfall lures poets, writers gaudily.
Tourists behold the beauty from a distance;
The wondrous spectacle provides pleasure, appreciate God’s creation desire it is bliss.
Bareipani flows naturally;
Poet enjoys the beauty enthusiastically.
Wondrous waterfall provides pleasure;
Melodious Beauty plays in the lap of Nature.
Beauteous is the high mountain;
Tourist’s mind enthuses beholding the fountain.
Poet beholds the beauty amazingly;
Mind remains in the world of peace gleefully.
Abhayaranya is wondrous;
Allures tourists, with pleasure.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Silence Vavroovahana Patra
Silence provides peace;
Poet desires Divine Bliss.
In deep silence prays mother;
Surrenders in the lap of Nature.
Mother attracts, adorned with flowers;
In the lap of Nature provides pleasure.
Blesses poet affectionatinely;
Derives peace divinely.
Profound silence takes mind to Divinity;
At night through silence mind enchants with gaiety.
Poet beholds mother reverentially;
Mind remains in the world of peace delightfully.
Mother Vinapanee blesses poet with affection;
He enjoys the beauty of creation.
Her blessings tranquilises mind daily;
Singing her songs mind derives peace gaily.
The shrine in the dense forest allures the poet;
Mind enchants with delight.
The serene shrine is a Brook of Delight;
Poet drinks the nectar from the Brook of Gaiety.
Silence of the shrine provides profound peace;
Poet surrender on the rosy cosy feet for Divine Bliss.
Hymns breaks the silence of environment;
Poet chants hymns with merriment.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Mood Colours
At times, we describe our moods in colours
that pass by our eyes each day.
There are our blue moods,
those when we are down.
Then there are our red moods
whenever our temper flares.
Our black moods are colourless
and the most dangerous of them all.
Our sunshine moods are when the world is golden
and smiles are all we see.
Pink shades our loving moods
and to the world, we show we care
as our love shines through.
Our moods can change quickly
as we pass through the rainbow spectrum
within our daily lives.
15 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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