Deep Thoughts? ? ?
Words pass, past words
Dreams of Dreamt dreams
Spoken verbs now slurd
Gift of the gab, enhanced vocab
Vison sought Image found
Story herd yet not told
Words free no longer bound
Invisible messages being seen
Hearts exposed no longer froze
We tell a tale of a cultured dream
We continue to move while standing still
Vision beyond a view of the ocean
Beneath our feet backward moving hill
Look in my eyes its poetry in motion
poem by Daniel Chapman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
No Longer
Shut the lids to cover the eyes,
the eyes that stare at me.
No longer should I be stared at.
No longer should you see.
Silence the mouth to cover the words,
the words that affedted me.
No longer should I be spoken to.
The words don't belong to me.
Put on gloves to hide your hands,
the hands that found my face.
No longer should my face be felt,
too many tears to trace.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Words To Me Mean
words are just word that mean nothing at all as my heart turns cold i can no longer say i care at all to you that may be wrong but to me words are just words that mean nothing at all but to others they are so much more they are words of felling words of hate and joy and worst of all words of hurt but words are just words i could care less at all with words of love, joy, and laughter you can no longer get me down words are just words that no longer hurt at all so no longer let them take charge words are just words of many words of few may cause trouble or cause joy my heart turns cold at the sight of your hate and rejoice with joy at the sight of happiness so you see words are just words that i can no longer take at all
poem by Kimberly Whittenburg
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What Are Dreams
What are dreams?
they are not what they seem,
I dream of the day
after we have had out say
to see you, sat by a window,
the sunlight upon you,
It highlights your glory
your face tells its own story,
What are dreams?
Only dreams *sighs*
What are dreams?
They are not what they seem,
to dream of touching you,
with more than just my words.
My voice trembles
as over words I stumble.
Its for you I yearn.
What are dreams?
Only dreams *sighs*
What are dreams?
they are not what they seem,
I repaired your wings,
even made you sing.
but within our trip,
your wings I clip.
your silent now
it hurts and how.
What are dreams?
Only dreams...........
RG/RR
poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The First Light Of Day
I now create poems at daybreak
Each one has a sunshiny theme,
Capturing thoughts as soon as I wake
My text resembles a dream.
I consider friends over the ocean
As I write my poetry in motion.
Birdsong is sweet at the dawning
As I welcome the first light of day
And words overflow without warning
~ I think I have found a new way ~
Writing verse with care and devotion
The story of Poetry In Motion.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After All Hymn
After all I am human
And I get mad sometimes
Sometimes it is hard for me to think of something else in
Order to get rid of my anger
But I think I have to replace it with poetry
Poetry is my life
And I live writing poetry
Is poetry just a scribbling that doesn't make sense?
No
Poetry are feelings that are wrtten on a piece of paper or in the computer Scream
Poetry makes sense because every word I carefully select
And there are other words that might pop out of my mind
That I connect with the words in my heart
Do I use strong words in my poetry?
Yes I use strong words
Do I offend my readers with the words I pick?
That Is something that I try not to do
AAafter all
I am human and I do make mistakes
But after I make mistakes I try to move to the next step so I never get Stuck with my mistake
Yes poetry is my voice that is a message that I am trying hard to give to My readers
There are so many different styles of poetry
Haiku, rhiming, and free style
But I always stick with the free style of poetry
I find that it is the style that sooths me just fine
After all
I try very hard to live a modest life that is very plain and simple
From the one I lived 16 years ago
What is wrong to live a life of luxury to me?
First I need to have the money to live a luxurious life
The second part is that I don't want anything to do with a luxurious life
Because I am happy living my simple life
And I hope to live that simple life forever
I want to have dreams only and I don't wish them to turn into reality in My Life
Because I know that my dreams will be dreams
No I can't sell my dreams
Because my dreams are only fantasies that I face every night when I sleep In my bed
And after all I will always be human
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Dreams (Inspired-Desire from Visions in the Night)
Is it just a dream - to dream?
Or can one intelligently
And with honest hope inquire:
' What does a dream, truly mean? '
Is the dream given or allowed
To each their own,
Or across the masses to the crowd?
From God, or the soul,
How to be certain, how to know?
From Heaven's throne, or from the depth's of the human mind?
For one alone, or all mankind?
Shall we be allowed arcanumly to know
Just some of what was missed
From afar, through a dim glimpse?
Could it all possibly be
From somewhere beyond us all,
An endless soft echo
In a very old call?
One that is only to be heard
When the mind has settled quiet,
Into the time when the soul alone gathers words?
Or,
Is the dream as gift given
Hope to arouse and awaken.......
Hope for what awaits
Just out of sight, right beyond Heaven's open gates,
Thus in meager human faith
Tis meant true expectancy to create.......
If it really is more
Than just a dream - to dream,
Then perchance it is nothing less than vision,
A guiding gift given
Part of a much larger plan
Beyond the sight of man,
Originating from the Being
Within everything.
From whence and why
Do this querulous questions arise?
I know not for certain
I can only here in simple words
Ponder upon them,
And the mysterious reason they return
Again and again.
It would surely seem
Dreamy sights travel mostly by nights'
With perhaps a scent of mystery, of the once was, and the yet to be.
Or maybe they just come with a comforting thought
And the sweet peace it may have here to us brought.
Sleepy dreams
Like stars throughout the night,
Constant dark companions
Never to be touched
Nor fully known,
Not even the reason -if there be one-
To be wholly shown;
Yet, faithfully there,
Even if their purpose we are unaware.
A story possibly to show
Given from the Story-Teller
Who wrote them on our hearts
So long ago;
For now we sit in exile,
This temporary land to last only a little while;
Some messages may very well be sent
With a reason to behold,
One that surely must come
From the great Ages of old,
Even if shrouded in a fallen translation,
Tis still our story, everyone's story,
Even my story,
Waiting, and so wanting to be told.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Across The Miles
For Suzanne Gaddess
A voice with no sound
Stretches across invisible miles
A voice of words like an outstretched hand
Its fingers waiting to be touched
By another in a much sought bond of friendship
The words are read and treasured like precious jewels
The fingers have touched
Another voice of words
Extends itself across the miles
Like an invisible thread
The much sought link is forged
Friendship through words of unseen faces grows
Trust follows in the distance
As words of comfort, sorrow and joy
Move back and forwards along the invisible thread
28 December 2006
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Memory
Your memory no longer lingers through my life.
You were there once and now your gone.
Your memory has died like a rose when it is cut from the rest of the world.
Your torns no longer cut my heart.
My voice no longer whispers you name,
I no longer look for you in other people in other faces.
I no longer dream of you or wish that I see you once again.
My heart no longer cries or bleeds for you, not no more.
You no longer haunt my dreams or my memories.
I finally found someone that keeps me warm at night,
I finally found someone who has helped me erase your memory.
I no longer fall and stumble but I now walk tall.
Your memory was a weight that I carried through out time
that now I am free.
I can say that I no longer love you, for you are a dead memory
poem by Elizabeth Gaytan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Words To Be Written
Words can be said, they can be written
they can be funny or sad or informed
words are sought after by everyone
papers, scripts, books, letters or texts
they can gossip, tattle or lie
honest, trust worthy, confusing
written to story or rhyme to rhythm
they can be found in our minds
written or printed they are strong
brought together the bring magic
imaginations, fantasy, real life
many stories and songs by words
have touched the soul with in
my words are to enlighten and entertain your mind
to put you in places we never dreamed
and to think I could of done that
my words to you is my soul to share
written with love, hate and sorrow
take the time to enjoy the words
words make ours dreams come true
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London
How can I write here when the walls have poetry?
And my soul is satisfied
When art hovers in the air and dances free?
When the heart has been explored over scones and tea?
How can I write when Keats once live down the street?
And Shakespeare rests beneath my feet?
What is there to add to the words of the greats?
With all that has been explored between love and hate
Do I lay to rest my pen?
Do I throw it to the air and in their words swim?
How can I write all that is in my heart and soul,
When my tale has been told
With far more tender grace
With far more eloquence and pace?
Please do check my grammar and spelling,
For I much to learn if I have a tale for the telling.
poem by Bridie Latona
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Do You Dream About?
Have you ever met anybody who does not dream?
All of us have dreamt of something good or bad before
Some dreams are believed to foretell the future
While few dreams remind us of things we have forgotten
Other dreams are just hallucination and nightmare
What do you dream about?
Some people dream every night
While the others dream once a while
Do you dream straight or opposite?
To dream straight is to see a vision
To dream straight is to have a revelation
Is your dream good, bad or frightening?
Has your dream ever come true?
Do you day-dream or dream while you sleep?
What do you really dream about?
Politicians dream of winning elections
Students dream of passing exams
Soldiers dream of winning battles
Everybody dreams of promotion on the job
Fishermen dream of catching lots of fishes
Some men see their future wives in a vision
Few women see their future husbands in a dream
Almost everybody dreams of winning the lottery
What do you actually dream about?
Many see their enemies in a dream
Few see their true friends in a vision
Others found solutions to their problems in a dream
Can we live on earth without dreaming?
Your answer is as good as mine
Whatever you may dream about
I hope your good dreams come true
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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Words of liberation for my nation
Chains of slavery are still over my people.
Notorious minds still over power innocent minds.
What can free the black child, what can free my nation?
I ask in pain and suffering in the dark jail cells,
What can free me from mental slavery?
How to know right from wrong?
How to think free and build a free society?
The solution is in the words of liberation, the words of wisdom.
I write and recite a revolution, my revolution my poetry.
I do n’t need praises or worship but only recognition and understanding of the people to words of liberation, understanding of poetry.
I stand before you to present poetry,
I stand before you to present the words of liberation to my nation.
Poetry that builds, poetry that destroys.
Poetry that destroyed the impious minds of colonists in Rhodesia.
I speak of poetry that built freedom in South Africa.
When I speak of poetry I mean the true meaning of words.
Words of wisdom,
Words of freedom,
Words of liberation,
Words to free my nation.
The words of liberation to my nation
Words of liberation to free my generation
Poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry.
poem by zimi Nakeni
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Dreams and Dreamers
No one exists
With out experience
Of the dream.
Nature also has the experience
Of dreams.
The rainbow is
Dream of clouds,
Twinkling stars are
Dreams of the night,
Flowers are
Dreams of the earth,
Moon is
Dream of the sun,
Woman is
Dream of a man,
Smile is
Dream of the tears,
Poetry is
Dream of the words,
False is
Dream of the truth,
Human is
Dream of the God,
Dream of human is
Dream of the dreams!
Dream,
It is a display of sight (view)
In closed eyes,
Action of the sleep
And riddle of the slumber, (deep sleep)
Solitude of the seclusion,
Mirror of the wounds,
Mumble of the mind,
Windows of the paradise,
Language of an individual
Les’ understood by himself,
Dream is a
Modern poetry
Has no syllable and meter,
Dream is a
Divine power of human, (desolation, super natural, forlorn)
Dream is not a myth
But it is a naked truth,
Dream is a secret room
Of an individual
He rest there
With his genuine face,
Dream is
Incubator of a man,
Dream is wings
Of an individual,
Dream is
A lighthouse of man
Dreams are
Colors of a man
To glorify his
Black and white life;
Let all of us praise for men
Who love the dreams,
And we express
Our sympathy to all men
who live in dreams too….
(Aalaabanai by Kaviko-In Tamizh)
poem by anushmadhu P.Bharathi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I dream!
When I dream
I dream out my fears
Hoping that reality is near
So I can lure it to my lair
Then feed on my needs as need be
When I dream
I dream of love and power
Taking a cold shower
And ruling the world from a tower
Always looking up, never lower
But dreams come true
Oh! Yes they do
And dreams can quickly vanish into thin air
As they become as obsolete as stale beer
So when I dream
I dream about fighting the freezing cold with fire
I dream about aiming higher to grasp my desires
I dream of ways to inspire myself
By sweetly toiling out till I tire
Many a dream of mine are unwritten songs
To which I've known the words all along
Often I dream of places where I should belong
Sometimes my dreams are messages
Gobbled up in visual categorized stages
That is unexplainable and strange
When I dream
I dream about the impossible
And how to enable it
Without the obvious obstacles
It’s only then I realize that a dream is capable
Of becoming true for either me or you
Yet the reality of it all is
Then a dream is no longer a dream!
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Cruel
Oh yeah
Born no longer a baby
Always trying to keep
In one place for long, oh long enough to sleep
Oh sleep and dreams are here the same
Gone'n got no rest
They'll no longer speak to you. moving on again
I'm moving on... moving on again
Well I'm moving...moving on again
Baby you're so cruel
You're cruel to yourself you never understand
Boy'll never do ya no harm
For you to build the frame of the bed you sleep upon
So spill your milk and honey
And get your kicks off your next man
Bigger than you think and you make him go, go on
Oh you make him...moving on again
Oh he's moving on...moving on again
Baby you're so cruel
Thought about the dream is so real now
These are dreams of mine you're so aimless...so aimless
You baby, you're so cruel
Wonder what you're gonna think of yourself
When the phone calls fade away
As you hold his shoulders, did you think it would come to this day
Ask yourself why he's off
When others surround you
He was one of many on the day that he found you
Oh you're moving...moving on again
Yeah you're moving...moving on again
Yeah you're moving...moving on again
Baby you're so cruel
song performed by by Default
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Poets
The old poets
sit drinking and conversing.
Speaking with long words; parts
of forgotten phrases, and occasional cursing.
There was among them another day, when
they thought they knew
precisely what to say, what to do.
But time, with the help of wine
has taken up the words.
Stealing their once steady voice
no longer the stronger, nor even again to be heard.
Now, the old poets gather round early
in narrow dusty bars, looking
far off, and puffing fat cigars.
Satisfied to simply sit and sip, upon
the failing wine, and fleeting time.
Watching, as both run dangerously low, like
the finish of a long and
melancholy picture show.
Time and wine, words and birds, all
fly so quickly by.
Going south with a closed mouth
the verbs and nouns of the past fall broken, and
are no longer sacramentally spoken.
What once moved so fine, within these aged poetic minds
flows now, no less, throughout each new day.
It turns old bodies weak, yet goes on bearing
the delicate souls like gold, further and further away.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words.... (Poetry Itself)
words do not heal the broken hearted,
words do not end wars.
words do not change the face of indifference,
words do not impress god!
words do not feed the hungry,
nor set the captives free.
words do not give shelter to the homeless,
or hope to those ridden with despair.
words do not stop discrimination,
words do not bring justice.
words do not bring forgiveness,
nor do they bring understanding...
words do not fill the empty,
nor erase the scars of love...
words do not define dialogue!
it is only then,
the hands and feet of the human heart...
and poetry itself is nothing more,
than the action of involved compassion!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The poets confession
The book is my bind
And the words my oath
The poem my life
And verse my bride
It is to my work I’m wed
To who I give my all
What love can contend
To that I once dreamt
I have known and loved
My every muse
And spoken to none
Not once did I confess
My heart unto them
No I stayed my tongue
Kept still my words
And in a madness
I wrote this world
I am a tale of my own creation
Bound to the book
The poets confession
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetic Embracement
Poetry - the mother of all emotion
Some call it mere ‘words in motion’
When I write, I love thee- Oh Poetry!
Thy branches deeper than the banyan tree
That’s why you are stronger than prose
Oh! Poetry! !
And as a poet I have all the freedom
And all the world’s verses in my kingdom
I can be fair or may be a little foul
I can see through the night like an owl
You can make night as day, your way
Oh! Poetry! Have your sway…
You have words stringed like beads
And a finger that pointedly needs
An applaud, a bow, a salutation
Sometimes a silent infatuation
You are the need of a man-to be free
That’s why you are –Poetry! !
If some one loves Thee, is it also me?
That sounds selfish but true you see!
For when I embraced you, Oh! Poetry -
An ‘embracement’ was ‘love’ I thought
But ‘embarrassment’ was what I got!
For she admired me, just for Thee! !
Oh! Poetry! !
So Wright is not wrong to send hugs to me
Or Petal isn’t having a fling with the sepals like me
A Rose no longer pokes on a prose so long
For today, just for you - ‘Poetry’ is on a song..
Let me be chainless today, let me be free
You are, what You are! My Poetry! !
poem by Jyo Jottypoet Love
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