How Silly Is This? ...or...Does Your Next Move Matter? .....[Personal; Life; Death]
Why do I care at all what next I do in life?
After all I'm the boss of me...though I don't say that to my wife.
Well sometimes I do care, but should it really matter?
Is it better to be Alice or better to be Mad Hatter?
What it really comes down to is the LITTLE decisions I make.
Shall I immerse myself in a novel, or out-the-garbage-take?
Well, luckily, as I'm retired, I've more leeway in my choices.
I've got time to respond to my mind's contradictory voices.
I should not feel guilty, and try not to feel guilty, about what I do next.
I'm the boss after all, so 'Let me not be vexed'!
Shall I start a new poem? It seems the thing to do.
The household chores I have in mind can wait a day or two.
I've lived a pretty full life. I'm satisfied with myself.
What things I don't do from now on can just stay on 'the shelf'.
I think I've done enough to live up to expectations,
and if I don't 'measure up' then DAMN the calculations! !
My dear Mother is long since gone, but still her lead I follow.
I think my days contain some goodness; they are not just hollow.
I don't believe in 'God', but if I did I think She would agree
that I've done what is expected, and She'd smile at me.
And although I've had relationships in which 'some' have said I failed,
I truly believe they ended because my EFFORTS were bewailed.
And perhaps as some small evidence that I was not a cad:
my major former partners, to talk to me these days, are glad.
And if you believe humans have a duty to pass on DNA,
I've performed my 'duty'. (But it was only to let my first wife have her way.)
Well I guess I got a little carried away with this poem, but ain't it all the same?
To take out garbage, or write a poem, or have a child…it's all a game.
It's part of the game of life and who's to say what and if it does matter.
But let not this, my casual-view-of-life, your outlook on YOUR life shatter.
(July 2012)
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
No Matter, Never Min
What said No Matter, Never Mind
By Gary Snyder
What if
Once Said
Mind is equal to Matter
Matter of origin is dance
The Father is the Voild
The wife Waves
Their child is Matter.
Matter makes it with the mother
And their child is Life,
a daughter.
The Daughter is the Great Mother
Who, wuth her father/brother Matter
as her lover,
Give birth to the Mind.
Mind contains a poem.
Poem is Empty
poem by Kyungdae Min
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Game of Death
I lift you up, just to dropp you
Condemnation is my praise
I lower your spirit down to the ground
So my spirit I can raise
It’s not the choices that I have made
For they are justified
My actions make you guilty
Before you have been tried
I think of you like a mirror
My reflection is what I see
You are not to be just who you are
But just an extension of me
My way of life is selfish
Expectations fill my soul
For you are a puppet tied on my string
And I must have full control
The things that truly matter
Are the things that I desire
And when my world starts burning up
I throw you in the fire
I spend my time all for myself
This is the gift I give
I sacrifice all other souls
It is my life to live
Another’s wants, another’s needs
Must follow after mine
Just worship me just as I am
You walked into my shrine
My time is spent, I’ll just take yours
And there’s nothing I’ll give back
I wonder why you hurt so much
I wonder what you lack
It’s never me, it’s always you
Do just as I say
I’ll sacrifice your tomorrow
For the things I want today
If this poem it sounds familiar
For 'your' actions, you always blame
The spirit of another
You’re wrapped in Satan’s game
In a game there is a winner
Which means someone has to lose
So live a life or play a game
That is your choice to choose
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Every Time There Is A Poem
FOR EVERY TIME THERE IS A POEM
For every time there is a poem
And for every season also
For life there is a poem
And for the end of life
For what we love and what we hate
For what we are and what we are not
For our vanity and for our most caring love
For our goodness and for our failings in goodness
For what is and what is not
For what was and what will be
For all things and times and seasons
There is a poem –
But perhaps
Beyond what our mind and reason can know
There is a time too
When no poem
However good or great or wise
Can speak of what we feel-
No poem as deep as the silence of Awe
And Gratitude to G-d.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Do What I Like
Key:- r:- ray
A:- anita
R: come let me enter in your brain
You know how it goes no pain, no gain
Im a rough young brother, I care about another
I thank my life to my dad and my mother
Searching like a hunter, always into something
You wanna be down? first stop fronting
Please dont speak, pass me the mic
Cause no matter what you say Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
R: rumours and lies start from the mouth
People hear little things and they start to shout
You see me on t.v. or a magazine cover
Lose our bonus, move under cover
Living that kind of effect, Im in demanded
I do my thing when I on demanded
You dont even know how I live my life
Dont point your finger cause Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
Do do what you like
R: yeah!
Dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: come on!
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
This is my life! oh!
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dear Wife
Dear Wife I write you this poem
As I have been told it would do me well,
To let you know what you have done to me,
And ask why you put me through all this hell.
I brought you here all the way from your home
To be my wife and my love forever more,
I then gave you all, and I did without,
But then your went knocking at other mens door.
I then found out you were telling lies about me
And love letters and phone calls to other men you sent
But you I had trusted with my whole heart and soul
So your many affairs on me, I never had the hint.
Dear Wife this is your poem
I hope you read it over and over again
Your sister said your affair on me wasn't your first
As you did it also with your other husbands and men.
Did you tell anyone else what you did too me
About mentally and physically abusing me all the time
And how you always put yourself always first
And never what was yours was also was mine.
You left our house when your family had slept
So you could go out and be with with another man
As you didn't care who you used or had hurt
And you I don't think no one could ever understand.
Dear Wife here is more of your poem
I truly hope that you will read it all
Have you told anyone who you left me for
Or are you ashamed and want that to be my call.
He too is a liar and and user and also a thief
And in so many ways he is just like you
As he too has not a job but lives off others
So he now tells you what you can or cannot do.
He had cheated on his wife so she left him
And also I found out he is a Momma’s boy
He is a coward and he cant fight his own fight
And as you know all of that is a true story.
Dear Wife here is more of your poem
There is so much more that I need to write
Are you going to raise your daughters the way you live
And have them believing that you were always right.
Will they think its alright to jump from one man to another
And its better to always take than it is to give,
And to ignore GOD’S word and think only of themselves
Tell me is that how you want them to live.
Soon one day all of your family and friends will find out
Of all of your lying and the ways that you do act
And hopefully none of your family will turn out like you
And as you know those are not lies, but only fact.
Dear Wife this of course is your poem
And you know that none of it is a lie
I never expected what you had done to me
So deep inside my soul I surely did die.
I kept all the messages you sent in your letters
Even the one about your hickey given in our house
The one your bragged about that was given to you
And it wasn't given by me, your spouse.
I remember when you told your daughters and me
How every Sunday that you had to go to school,
Even on Valentines day and your Birthday you had to go
Then I found out it was lie, and once again I am the fool.
Dear Wife here is some more of your poem
I am beginning to feel a lot better now,
As I did nothing wrong and it was always you,
And truly I do feel so happy with my soul and I am proud.
You committed adultery and you robbed and you stole,
And I stayed truthful to my wife and love which was you,
When you were abandoned in Scotland for over a year
Remember it was I your husband who wanted you.
I still have the pictures and the mail you had sent
And everyone even your family knows of your past,
All your adultery and affairs and cheating you have done,
The evils you have done to others will always last.
Dear Wife again this is your poem
If not without you it would of never been born
Some talk about the fury inflicted by scorned women
But I tell you this, a man too does not like to be scorned.
You have gossiped and criticized everyone in your life
Told of secrets and promises that you swore to keep
You honor no one and loyalty is not your friend,
And for you soul, sad to say no one will ever weep.
You have talked about your sisters and your brother
You said of their problems that they have many
Then you talked about your ex-husbands and ex-lovers
And this and we say Wife; Problems you have many.
Dear Wife This is the end of my poem
I hope truly that you have read it well,
And I hope all that know you, have read it too,
As they will too know, the truth is all that I did tell.
You have no conscience or dignity about yourself,
Is that why you changed your looks once again,
You cant change your soul, like changing of your hair
Seems you cant stay away from adultery and sin.
When you sleep tell me how do you sleep
I bet you sleep well, that is if you have not a soul,
And are you waiting for another man to come in your life,
So you can again start another life not far down the road.
Dear wife, I wander will your daughters be like you
Later in years when women they will become
You already have taught them how to lie and steal
And how to use men for gain and also fun.
I remember when they told me about all your boyfriends
And all the men you had stay with you for the night
And sad to say I later became one of those men
I guess I became the man next in your expanding line.
I wander if your daughters are happy with you
And the life that you gave them to live
They don't know how to be true and virtuous woman
The greatest present a mother to her daughter she could give.
Dear Wife, that name I wont call you anymore
As my wife to me you can never be
As you did the sins no other wife would ever do
And everyone of that one fact would always agree.
So you can tell your lies to everyone that you meet
Do you believe any one but a sinner would believe your lies
As you don't and never did walk the steps of morality or virtue
Now when you feel the cold wind that is GODS sadden sigh.
So using me and abusing me will happen no more
As to my mind and soul on that one thought I do reflect
As i can do so much better but you will not ever
And now my Dear Wife, you will ever be known as my ex.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There Is No Poem I Can Write
THERE IS NO POEM I CAN WRITE
There is no poem I can write
That can solve the problems of my life-
A poem may save for a moment
Or give hope for a brief time
I may make me believe in myself again
For an instant-
It cannot make money
Or improve the situation
Of those I care about-
It cannot even now
Shake me from my despair
My sense of myself going down
A poem can be only very small help now
Very very small
It cannot even make me wholly believe
In the so- called poem I am writing now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem About The Poem About The Poem
THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-
I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-
A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Live From Poem To Poem
I LIVE FROM POEM TO POEM
I live from poem to poem-
Each poem gives its meaning to my life
In the time of its writing
I live from poem to poem-
I am living now
Standing in the sun
On Rashbag St
On my way home
After a mission
I failed to complete
as if I somehow know how to live in my poems
better than I can in all the practical duties of my life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Age Demaned
The age demanded chiefly a mould in plaster,
Made with no loss of time
No matter, never mind
Do you know
Gary Snyder's poetry as follows:
The Father is the void
The wife Waves
Their child is Matter.
Matter makes it with his mother
And their child is Life,
a daughter.
The daughter is the Great Mother
Who, with her father/brother Matter
as her lover,
Give birth to the Mind.
This is DNA poem.
Language is Foxp2
poem by Kyungdae Min
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Poem Is Not A Dream
THIS POEM IS NOT A DREAM
This poem is not a dream
It comes from where so many true poems come
From the other side of the mind
When it does not know peace -
From the waking desire
The hunger that is not satisfied
The lonely life and the lonely mind-
It comes from the search for love
And the love itself – the joy of love-
And from the memory of what we most deeply know when we are ourselves in love of another-
This poem is not a dream-
It comes from the waking world and the waking words-
The hard truths the bitter small things
The disappointments and rejections
The endless small humiliations which Time and Chance make of us all-
This poem comes from where we are most human
With the pain of those closest to us-
And our longing to save them and be loved forever by them-
The dream is not the poem
Life in its all its endless difficulties is the poem
And this poem too
Does not say half of all the hurt I have suffered in this one small day alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The poem and her poet
Death once told poor life defeated by life:
Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife,
No more a struggle, nor is full of strife,
Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife?
Death's all death; the same is not true of life,
Life tries to knot her up snaps when death's knife,
But I've heard a man asking on death bed,
Pray, tell me Death, how long ere I'm all dead?
To him, said death, straightening up his head,
Moments might when look like minutes of dread,
Minutes stretch and stretch into hours, instead,
When hours take days, and days, years, you are dead.
Remember, life's lived moment to moment,
‘Tis measured too in a moving moment,
Forget not: Death alone is permanent,
I dwell in life from birth, live life dormant;
There's no freedom in life, nor should death call,
Death changes but the bricks of prison wall,
All quarrels ‘tween life and death, big and small,
Settled are, death when proves him far too tall.
Life is a small piece, but a paragraph
Of my poem, said Death, metre nor measure but in half,
Life may decide every new beginning,
But ‘tis me that knows the length, knows ending.
Eons pass sans measure for endless time,
While no clocks tick, nor dare their hours to chime,
Boulders of rocks break down whilst time stands still,
O grinding into grains of sands sans will.
While life is stuck with my poem's first rhyme,
Death challenged life to dare the worst she can,
I'm the Absolute trouser wearing man1,
I wonder how relative would tick time!
_____________________________________________ ___________
1. Death muses himself to be the male principle, the purusha.
The poem stands for life and prakriti. The piece here depicts
a dialogue between Life, or the matter, the poem and her
creator poet, the Death. In Indic philosophy, purusha is the
presiding deity, the atman or soul, which is eternal and body
is made of prakriti, the material nature, which is death-bound.
_____________________________________________ __________________
- Musings | 12.08.12 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Y
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
Pure soul first breath is filled with sin
A young child just born quit suffering
A mother's greed, get high, chasin' ghosts again
This will happen over and over again!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
I look into your eyes, I feel your pain, life's insane
I'm gonna do my best to try again and live again
I know we're all the same, we live our lives it's like a game
And still we do it over and over again!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
First communion done, now your life has just begun
Second plot the whole world is looking with a gun
Another child will do it when he's on the run
The vicious circle of life has just begun!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do!
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you!
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be sooo cruel!
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you!
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
It's all, yeah, it's all
Don't ask us Y!
It's all decided for you
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Could Be A Poem?
This poem could be
The greatest thing you've ever heard
Like a verbal bird
Free to fly around the confines of your mind
Or maybe like a kite, flying freely caressed by the wind
There for you to repeat it again and again
This poem could be manipulated, congratulated, or disintegrated
It could even get frustrated if you fail to catch it's meaning
Demeaning one of the reasons it was written
To be heard, not deferred, or unnerved
It was made to inspire
Requiring the constant retire
That is your head
This poem could be life or death
The poem could convince you to put yourself
At risk to knowledge or to bullets
There is no chaos; There is harmony
There is no emotion; there is peace
OR
Through passion, I gain strength
Through strength, I gain power
Through power, I gain Victory...
Victory...
Victory...
This poem could be
This poem could be like victory
Great for the moment
Then lost in time
Lost in echoes
Lost in rhyme
Lost in justice
Lost in crime
Just lost
Then found!
Bound to the world by the person who hears it
This poem could be
Garbage
If you can't see the moral at the end of the story
No worries though
'Cause no deposit, no return
This poem could be
Over
But it's not
It lives for as long as you choose to
Hear it, Take it, Live it
This poem could be...
This poem could be..
My lord, WHAT this poem could be!
This poem could start a revolution, but it could end one too
This poem can and will make things happen
Bound and Determined
Or maybe
This poem could be
Just a poem?
poem by Dre' Porcher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Write To Write To Write
I WANT TO WRITE TO WRITE TO WRITE
I write to write to write-
A poem must be more than a straining against Emptiness-
A poem must be more than making a name.
A poem should be food for the heart and soul and mind
It should make us feel the world with new love
It should make us want to live more and more
A poem should make us love life
It should be written for its readers
And not for its poet alone
A poem should make us want to be in this world
In greater beauty and greater love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem Of The Evening Is A Quiet Poem
THE POEM OF THE EVENING IS A QUIET POEM
The poem of the evening is a quiet poem
It comes in gentleness with tired eyes
It does not know how long it will last
It believes a fresh breeze
And a simple song
Are all its needs
To feel happiness.
The poem of the evening this evening
Believes in life
Believes in Goodness of God
Believes it will somehow be alright.
The poem of the evening this evening
May be a foolish one
But it is a quietly happy one.
We need such poems sometimes
For life is hard in the long working days
And in the times of difficult idleness
When no dreams come.
Quiet and quiet
Soft as sleep
The poem of the evening this evening
Is a gentle one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Boss Of Me
Yes, no, maybe
I don't know
Can you repeat the question?
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
Life is unfair, so I just stare at the stain on the wall where
The TV'd been, but ever since we've moved in it's been empty
Why I, why I'm in this room
There is no point explaining
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
Life is a test, but I confess
I like this mess I've made so far
Grade on a curve and you'll observe
I'm right below the horizon
Yes, no, maybe, I don't know
Can you repeat the question?
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now
You're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big
Life is unfair
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!