Sinking (Octelle)
Freedom, you're on a sinking ship
Blinded, tossed about, losing grip!
Enemies laugh, as you drown
With your flawed throne and false crown
Free yourself! Open your eyes!
Deceit has slipped through with lies
Freedom, you're on a sinking ship
Blinded, tossed about, losing grip!
'Ships sail on water, but if the water gets in slowly,
even a battleship will sink. Nations do not fall instantly,
they get corrupted inside very slowly.'
cynthiabuhainbaello11.28.12
*Octelle poem - 8 line poem with aa-bb-cc-aa rhyme scheme
and 88-77-77-88 syllable pattern. The first 2 lines are
repeated as the last 2 lines.
It uses personification & symbolism and it written in
a telling manner.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Expose (Octelle)
Are you the anodyne men seek -
Religion controlling the weak?
Masters of malevolence,
Hiding in Piety's pretense!
Your robes dipped Injustice's blood
Teaching vile men to play god!
Are you the anodyne men seek -
Religion controlling the weak?
'Each tree is recognized by its own fruit.' (Luke 6: 44)
cynthiabuhainbaello
11.28.12
*Octelle - poetry form of 8 lines
aa-bb-cc-aa rhyme scheme, 88-77-77-88 syllable
pattern, and uses personification & symbolism.
The first 2 lines are repeated as the last 2 lines.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real Strength (Octelle Form)
Bamboo tree, you are resilient
With the wind, so truly patient
Bending back with every blow
Swaying freely, strength to show
Although fierce may be the storm
It can never break your form
Bamboo tree, you are resilient
With the wind, so truly patient!
Cynthia Buhain Baello
11.22.12
**Octelle - poetry form of 8 lines
aa-bb-cc-aa rhyme scheme, 88-77-77-88 syllable
pattern, and uses personification & symbolism.
The first 2 lines are repeated as the last 2 lines.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Real War (Octelle)
Your nymph song, Complacency, lulls
And numbs, makes our Awareness dull.
Like wine that drowns Discretion
We're drunk in sheer Delusion.
Foes tied our hands with Deceit
Can't stand, we lie in Defeat!
Your nymph song, Complacency, lulls
And numbs, makes our Awareness dull.
cynthiabuhainbaello
11.28.12
*Octelle - poetry form in 8 lines
aa-bb-cc-aa rhyme scheme and 88-77-77-88
format, the first two lines are repeated
as the last lines.
It uses personification & symbolism.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unraveling My Poem Unraveling My Life
you think you know me
every inch every color
since you have read
every poem i have written
you equate what i am
with what i have written
and your equation goes
through and through the lines
of logic like a telephone
pole connecting two islands
every sigh is learned
from every syllable of my lines
every yawn is discerned
from every sleepy letter that you
meet and see
are there no strangers there
that you meet? did you not
care to ask for his name?
are there no oceans there?
if there are, there must
be some oceanfloors
some sinks sinking
some whales occupying
so much space for your
kind understanding and
you may find yourself
hard of breathing, like a
diver whose oxygen tank
is leaking. You don't die
with me. You don't like my
sickness. You don't like to
get this infection beyond
my own solitude.
you unravel a poem you
discover that i have become
more covered. A voice tells
me, i am not my poems, i am
more than them. I am not just
a syllable, a word, a line.
I am more than what you have
tried to swallow inside your mouth.
i am blood and i am flowing.
you dip your finger once and
taste a dropp of my blood and
then in a second, i am no longer
there. I am a flowing blood and
what you have are stains, yes,
only stains turning into scars.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author2
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Brother
How you gonna say what you can and cant do,
Sitting in the crib, parked in front of the tube.
Youre mad at the world like she owe you,
What you think opportunitys gonna come looking for you?
Not a damn thing changed.
Youre just another football waiting to be tossed in the game.
Youre flossing again,
You talk a good game, but youre still trying hard to maintain.
Little brother, a ship cant sail without the water.
The world could be yours if you want her,
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Everyday youre out slinging that thing.
No worries or cares of what your mama may say.
Trying to get what you want in your life.
The cars, the clothes, the hos, the ice.
Not a damn thing changed.
Youre still another football waiting to be tossed in the game.
Youre flossing again,
You talk a good game,
But youre still struggling hard to maintain.
Little brother, a ship cant sail without the water, no.
The world could be yours if you want her,
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Little brother, no, a ship cant sail without the water.
The world could be yours if you want her,
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Everything you want could be yours if you were just to try.
All the troubles that you feel will fade away like shooting stars across the sky.
All the dreams I hope you feel soon, someday, shall be fulfilled.
Time is moving rapidly.
Dont let it pass you by, yeah.
Little brother, a ship cant sail without the water, no.
The world could be yours (world is yours) if you want her, (world is yours)
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Little brother, no,
A ship (you know we gotta love one another now) cant sail without the water.
The world could be yours (world is yours) if you want her, (world is ours)
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Little brother, a ship cant sail without the water, no.
The world could be yours if you want her (the world is yours),
But you gotta be willing to go out and get it.
When you get it, keep winning.
Little brother, get it now, a ship cant sail without the water...
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar(Decor) -80
Crapsey Cinquain-
a stand-alone poem, a complete poem in 5 lines. It can be written in a chain, but each cinquain should be able to stand alone.
syllabic lines in a pattern of 2-4-6-8-2 syllable per line
1 Stars
They do
Whole night their job
Perhaps looking from up
Down on earth's nightly danseuses
Winkling
2 Star
He does
Whole life his deeds
Sincere, honest, loyal
Rewarded finally on top
Wondered
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Luc-Bat! you say
In Vietnamese Luc-Bat is a sonnet form
consisting of six and eight syllable lines
First line starts with six syllables, next eight
A 14 line rhyme pattern -
a.b.b.c./ c.d.d.e/ e.f.f.g/ g.a.
born/ fall/ all/ lush
bush/ earth/ birth/ man
Pan/ scheme/ dream/ jest
crest/ dawn
Try it in the loo!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sinking
Life is so lonely and no hope I have
In this world I am so lonely
Nothing is to be happy about
Sadness is only here
I have nothing remaining and not even a single friend
Obviously, life is losing the meaning of it
How much longer can I go on, like this?
Have no idea as I am turning into a sinking ship
Will not be able to sail any further because I am losing all my hope
Everything, has no meaning remaining
I no longer deserve to be alive
Just, I am sinking, the depth is deep
So, all the efforts are just, hopeless.
poem by Rohit Sapra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have No Poem Now- At The End Of Hoshanah-Rabbah
I HAVE NO POEM NOW- AT THE END OF HOSHANAH RABBAH
I have no poem now-
I want to have a poem now-
I try to write a poem now-
Is this a poem now?
All the lines of my life are written in water.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ship according to the gospel of Arsenio
A ship in the harbor is safe
But that is not the reason why ships are built
That is not what ships are
They are made to sail
To go not to stay
They are designed
To float
“Safety, security and survival
Are not the goals of our lives”
“Life is an adventure
Not maintenance”
At its end
The ship is always for
Sinking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Make A Poem A Poem?
What makes a poem a poem
Is it the story it tells
The feeling it sells.
what makes a poem a poem
is it the history it shows
or the letters of word flow
do the lines mater it they rhyme
or not, can it be free verse of
abcabc line schem,
What makes a poem a poem
is it the words i repeat
Or the emotion they cove.
What makes a poem a poem
Ship Of Fools
Went to see the captain, strangest I could find,
Laid my proposition down, laid it on the line.
I wont slave for beggars pay, likewise gold and jewels,
But I would slave to learn the way to sink your ship of fools.
Ship of fools on a cruel sea, ship of fools sail away from me.
It was later than I thought when I first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools.
Saw your first ship sink and drown, from rockin of the boat,
And all that could not sink or swim was just left there to float.
I wont leave you drifting down, but woh it makes me wild,
With thirty years upon my head to have you call me child.
Ship of fools on a cruel sea, ship of fools sail away from me.
It was later than I thought when I first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools.
The bottles stand as empty, as they were filled before.
Time there was and plenty, but from that cup no more.
Though I could not caution all, I still might warn a few:
Dont lend your hand to raise no flag atop no ship of fools.
Ship of fools on a cruel sea, ship of fools sail away from me.
It was later than I thought, when I first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools.
It was later than I thought when I first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem I Wrote In My Mind This Morning Walking Home
The poem I wrote in my mind this morning walking home
Is gone-
I will try to recall it -
It was not finished,
A few lines around an idea-
What was the idea?
I don't remember-
Slowly slowly in old age
The mind works less well
First it is trouble with names
Other peoples names-
And then what?
I recently cared for a man
Who often did not know his own name
And could not speak one sentence clearly-
The poem I lost this morning was not about ‘remembrance'
And its loss -
But on the way home I was happy when I suddenly remembered a name
I was looking for-
‘Perhaps it will not happen to me' I said
Or perhaps it will happen so far from now
I do not need to think about it'
One day all the poems will not be remembered
And these lines too will go to oblivion-
My poem this morning was not even writ in water-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. B's Ballroom
A victim of collision on the open sea
Nobody ever said that life was free
Sank, swam, go down with the ship
But use your freedom of choice
I'll say it again in the land of the free
Use your freedom of choice
Your freedom of choice
In ancient rome there was a poem
About a dog who found two bones
He picked at one
He licked the other
He went in circles
He dropped dead
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom of choice!
Then if you got it you don't want it
Seems to be the rule of thumb
Don't be tricked by what you see
You got two ways to go
I'll say it again in the land of the free
Use your freedom of choice
Freedom of choice
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom of choice!
In ancient rome
There was a poem
About a dog
Who found two bones
He picked at one
He licked the other
He went in circles
He dropped dead
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom from choice
Is what you want
(repeat)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Of Choice
A victim of collision on the open sea
Nobody ever said that life was free
Sank, swam, go down with the ship
But use your freedom of choice
Ill say it again in the land of the free
Use your freedom of choice
Your freedom of choice
In ancient rome there was a poem
About a dog who found two bones
He picked at one
He licked the other
He went in circles
He dropped dead
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom of choice!
Then if you got it you dont want it
Seems to be the rule of thumb
Dont be tricked by what you see
You got two ways to go
Ill say it again in the land of the free
Use your freedom of choice
Freedom of choice
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom of choice!
In ancient rome
There was a poem
About a dog
Who found two bones
He picked at one
He licked the other
He went in circles
He dropped dead
Freedom of choice
Is what you got
Freedom from choice
Is what you want
(repeat)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem That Is About To Be Written
THE POEM THAT IS ABOUT TO BE WRITTEN
The poem that is about to be written
Will form itself slowly,
Line by line,
Will make of itself a meaning
It does not know.
Will be beyond
All that it could have thought to be – beforehand.
The poem that is being written
Has no name,
No face,
No beauty,
No light,
It is just the poem that is coming to be in the silence,
Where I am alone with my own Seeming.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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