Zoomers
When I write my children’s stories
looking through the eyes of a cat
I often wonder what names
he gives to the things he sees.
They certainly wouldn’t be
what we refer to them to be,
so I have fun thinking
of alternate names to call them.
In the first volume I have published,
I introduced everyone to
half dogs and flying grub.
Now in my second volume
everyone will meet the Zoomers.
Any guesses what they might be.
A clue: A Zoomer flies at night
quickly and silently.
There is no prize for getting it right,
just the fun of guessing
what Zoomers really are.
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Gave Names To All The Animals
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
He saw an animal that liked to growl,
Big furry paws and he liked to howl,
Great big furry back and furry hair.
Ah, think Ill call it a bear.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
He saw an animal up on a hill
Chewing up so much grass until she was filled.
He saw milk comin out but he didnt know how.
Ah, think Ill call it a cow.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
He saw an animal that liked to snort,
Horns on his head and they werent too short.
It looked like there wasnt nothin that he couldnt pull.
Ah, think Ill call it a bull.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
He saw an animal leavin a muddy trail,
Real dirty face and a curly tail.
He wasnt too small and he wasnt too big.
Ah, think Ill call it a pig.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
Next animal that he did meet
Had wool on his back and hooves on his feet,
Eating grass on a mountainside so steep.
Ah, think Ill call it a sheep.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, in the beginning.
Man gave names to all the animals
In the beginning, long time ago.
He saw an animal as smooth as glass
Slithering his way through the grass.
Saw him disappear by a tree near a lake . . .
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faded Pages
Recently I started retyping
a manuscript of short stories
I had written twenty years ago.
The pages were faded;
too much time being opened to the sun.
As I typed, I smiled
at the things I had written
and the dialogue I had created.
The stories are about a cat
and looking at the world
through his eyes and thoughts.
I had even created him a language
that I had to write a glossary
at the back of the book to explain
what some of the phrases meant.
There is a vast array of characters
and most have a funny turn.
I also remember what prompted me
to write the stories long ago.
My original intention was to write
one story and one story only,
but a friend of mine at the time
persuaded me to write another and another.
Before long, a volume was finished
with enough stories to start another.
From a one off story I have written over sixty now
about the cat and all his friends.
Now as I flick through these faded pages,
which I haven’t read in years,
I find myself being reunited
with many long lost friends.
26 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Some Stories
some stories
about ourselves
are also the stories of
themselves
and then we write
these stories and
pretend that these are
but some short stories
from our mind
now in different names
and places
we read them and then
we wish that some of
these short stories
are not true at all
sometimes for those
we want to be
we want to believe
them to be true
wishes and hopes and
regrets, what if? what if i
chose that rather than this?
we poets write about pain
and joys and we tell sometimes
that we only fake them
deep inside we are silent
we prefer just to be left alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Call me what you want
Call me what you want,
You can push me around,
Make fun of me,
Call me names,
All your doing is calling yourself your own family names,
I am the mirror you are the bee,
Whatever you say or do it reflects off of me,
So you can go ahead call me names do whatever makes you happy,
Cause in the end all your doing is hurting yourself cause are nothing but a bully that has a low-life and have nothing better to do but make fun of people.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Each One Needs a Title
Each one needs a title.
It's not enough to call them by their first names.
Or not be introduced,
Without hearing one's résumé.
And they are serious too.
They want people to know they've earned degrees.
They quickly reveal where they live, what they drive.
And where they eat to be fed the best cruisine.
Each one needs a title.
Something that widens eyes a lot.
Some are overheard saying,
Where they vacation and shop.
Who has a nanny!
And which ones do not.
Who employs a housekeeper.
And which services some had to stop.
Each one needs a title.
At least one impressive enough...
For tongues to wag,
And jaws to drop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Know Of Impermanency
Write down on every New Year day
The names of the persons liked and disliked
And names of things desired and dropped.
To tell you about impermanency.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vicious Games
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I cared
So I played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I was afraid
To go under
Afraid to see
When I closed my eyes
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
I never knew
How much I loved you
I never knew
How much I care
I just played
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
With different names, different names
Now that youre gone
And you have left me
I had to learn
I had to learn how much it hurts
To play those vicious games
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
Vicious games, vicious games
Different names, different names
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sultan
If I were promised safety,
if I could meet the Sultan
I would say to him: O my lord the Sultan!
my cloak has been torn by your ravenous dogs,
your spies are following me all the time.
Their eyes
their noses
their feet are chasing me
like destiny, like fate
They interrogate my wife
and write down all the names of my friends.
O Sultan!
Because I dare to approach your deaf walls,
because I tried to reveal my sadness and
tribulation,
I was beaten with my shoes.
O my lord the Sultan!
you have lost the war twice
because half our people
has no tongue.
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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For the Young Who Want To
Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.
Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.
Genius is what they know you
had after the third volume
of remarkable poems. Earlier
they accuse you of withdrawing,
ask why you don't have a baby,
call you a bum.
The reason people want M.F.A.'s,
take workshops with fancy names
when all you can really
learn is a few techniques,
typing instructions and some-
body else's mannerisms
is that every artist lacks
a license to hang on the wall
like your optician, your vet
proving you may be a clumsy sadist
whose fillings fall into the stew
but you're certified a dentist.
The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.
poem by Marge Piercy
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Mirror Of Humanity
there is a line
in Jesus's face,
just below His eyes...
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
dying of starvation...
there is a line
in Buddha's face,
just below his eyes....
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
whose familes have
been killed by the
bombs and bullets.
there is a line
in my own face,
just below my eyes...
and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
i let down when
i dont do my best,
to stand up strong
for equality and peace.
have you looked in a
mirror lately?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Record Of Mighty Arrest
Recording names of stupor corresponds to success,
The dossier of might, a charter of demand.
We mimic the italics of names all around,
A dossier has been published of one’s cross.
The evidentiary record, the archives, the registry,
All amount to this same collection of names, proper.
Shot at the face, we take in hand and put to notice
Sure ways of arresting and sending to the places suited.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My Name Written On A Streamer
my name flies
letters in bold and colors waving like the sea
two names, appearing like twins
on a streamer as though welcoming
to the fold a big time politician
my name is just a name
like any other else's names
it is not me, of course,
i may call myself an angel
but my wings are broken
my other parts cut like a picture
of a jigsaw puzzle
one by one you must pick up
the cut pieces
you fit in there then you make
me whole again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm very influenced by landscapes, not so much the way places look as the way the names sound. In this country we've got so many cultures, and the place names - the Spanish names and the Indian names, which are so incredibly musical.
quote by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mother Said
one day
as i almost
died laughing my
mother said
not to laugh
out loud because
the volume
of my laughter
shall be
the same
volume
of sadness
and tears
that follows
after
take moderation
she said
do not howl
or wail
do not have
a brouhaha
take the
little giggle
and the smile
take
the little pinch
of pain
in happiness
and sadness
let there
be caution
like day
and night
not so glaring
not so gloomy
live in twilight
stay in dusk
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Are Defended By Those We Do Not Know The Names Of
WE ARE DEFENDED BY THOSE WE DO NOT KNOW THE NAMES OF
We are defended by those we do not know the names of -
And when one is killed
We know the name for a moment,
Before leaving the long memory to the family-
A few it is true – special heroes-
Have stories and names that remain through the years.
But mostly the dead are anonymous
And the wounded and the injured too.
And a country and a people goes on in freedom-
While in this family or that
Which we will always pray we will not be among
Pain and Loss Forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Want My Name So Much To Be A Name
I WANT MY NAME SO MUCH TO BE A NAME
I want my name so much to be a name-
But when I am gone
What will that name mean to me?
Your name too
What will it mean
In the great distances?
Names and more names
Only G-d knows.
God has many names
And no name
And only One Name
Why should I insist so much
On my own name?
When only God can know
All the Names
Even God’s own.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What Production Seeks to Achieve
Those of you who complain about the volume,
One produces that may reduce your sensibilities...
May or may not notice this,
The ones producing volume and sustaining such levels...
Of it.
Apparently have blocked out your complaints,
With the realization that even critics are giving attention.
And that is what production seeks to achieve,
N'est pas?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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