The Chronicles of Nostalgia Part 2 Two Sided Memory
Tick-tap-tap-tap-slam-tic key after key
Pressed down meticulously by me
In order to formulate messages to one on the other side
Under my shroud I felt I could hide
Under the poems, under the language and non-disclosure
Of information... didn't seem bother her
She wasted no time
Pierced right through rhyme after rhyme
Of mine all the way in
Like a virus of sin
Yet this force seemed pure
Though it was from 'her'
'her' meaning a girl, I let it slide
Though i knew a chide
Would soon follow... well it did
Like fatality in a can... with an opened lid
Yet this memory happy in nature
Or was it two sided?
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Without You Im Nothing
Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide.
Ill take it by your side.
Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide.
Ill take it by your side.
Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies.
Ill take it by your side.
Oversaturation curls the skin and tans the hide.
Ill take it by your side.
Tick - tock x3
Tick - tick - tick - tick - tick - tock
Im unclean, a libertine
And every time you vent your spleen,
I seem to lose the power of speech,
Your slipping slowly from my reach.
You grow me like an evergreen,
You never see the lonely me at all
I...
Take the plan, spin it sideways.
I...
Fall.
Without you, Im nothing.
Without you, Im nothing.
Without you, Im nothing.
Take the plan, spin it sideways.
Without you, Im nothing at all.
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virus Of The Mind
Well I was watching this talk show the other day
And on it there was this guy and he was saying
When you let other people tell you whats right
When you leave your instinct and your own truth behind he said
Thats a virus of the mind. thats a virus of the mind
I guess its kind of like losing your sight; for a
Second you think that they might be right, and it
Feeds the doubts you have inside, and it
Almost starts to feel like a crime
To follow your own rhythm and rhyme
Yeah Im pretty happy living in my own sweet time Im pretty happy
And I dont need your virus of the mind
Well I went to this party thing last night
A lot of people I hadnt seen in a long time
And they wanted to know about my life,
But making me feel like it wasnt quite right
Like wheres your kids and wheres your car?
I said I dont have either but I have a guitar
And I ended up feeling like I was a freak
So I found some wine and something to eat
And I talked to a dog to pass the time
Told myself Im doing fine,
Its just a virus of the mind
Its just a virus of the mind
Yeah Im pretty happy living in my own sweet time Im pretty happy
And I dont need your virus of the mind
Its in the deep of your soul
Its on the tip of your tongue
Its the feeling you get when you feel young
Its in the sound of the beat
Its in the base of your spine
Its in your gut reaction, yeah every time
But they tell you what you should have,
They tell you who you should be
Its in the picturesand ads and in the magazines
Im kicking it off like a bug in the breeze
cause is anyone out there inside me?
I said is anyone out there inside me?
I say is anyone?
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cuckoo Clock
We knew it must have been late
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We had no time to wait
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I went to light the fireplace
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I planned it all this way, and
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I snuggled close to her
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Her heart began to purr
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I held my breath inside, and then
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I put my arms around her
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I put that birdie away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
His cuckoo was gone to stay
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We both apologized for why
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Forgave that doggone cuckoo
I went back to her side
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I had to swallow my pride
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
The fire had almost died away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just got situated
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I took that clock apart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I broke the cuckoos heart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Hell never bother us again
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just forgot about him
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know Only Poems With Rhyme
To the children of the world
I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
I know only poems with beat
That make me stand up on my feet.
When poets all have breathed their last,
And poems are buried in dust,
Then children will come out in time
To dig the poems, black with grime.
And when the cloud of dust is gone,
And children are through having fun,
They’ll throw away poems like lime
But pick up only those with rhyme.
poem by Gilbert Pangyarihan
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A Big Or Brief Poetry......!
Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!
Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?
Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!
Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!
Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Moderns
To many reading modern poetry more interesting the meaning in the metaphors they seek to find
They feel it makes their brains work that much harder that it is good exercise for the mind
Rhyme for their great brains seems that bit too simple it does not test their thinking power at all
'Tis not a poem to them if it seems simple and the meaning in it easy to recall,
Yes rhyme for them it does seem that bit simple and deciphering it to them is not a test
The hidden meaning in the metaphors is something that does seem to try them best
Rhyme poetry to them is too simple and far too easy for to understand
It has to be blank verse with dozens of metaphors for their interest for to command
They look on rhyme and bush poets as inferior their preference in poets and poetry they make known
On literature they air their opinions like it is said to each their own
Their poetry evenings do seem quite exclusive rhyme poets to read they never do invite
Their unmusical lines that are laced with metaphors to each other they do recite
They do not like rhyme or they do not like bush poetry to them it is of another time
And in their poetry evenings there is no place for the men and the women of rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To Rhyme?
I wonder now and again
whether or not
my poems should rhyme
if they should have a rhythmic
pentameter that catches the readers
like small fish out by the moonlit lake
where they jump for joy
when the humans have gone
For the world is filled of rhyme
as we whittle down our time
we spend it all down on this earth
the flesh decays and brings new birth
But then I realize
to rhyme is not my style
for at times, I feel that
more so than a line
the rhyme is a trap
more of a bear than a mouse
and I wonder if with my first couplet
where there begins a sort of catchy scheme
the readers bob their head to
-dah dah dah dah dah dah dah
and then they realize
that I've lost most of my flare
for my expression has been limited
by this beautiful
yet altogether mortal language
so with that
I continue to roll my tongue
as my fingers clatter on the keyboard
and I tell you stories
instead of singing you songs
poem by Jorge Garcia
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0007: 2007 - Year Of Revolting Poets
2007, he said, was a memorable year for poetry.
A world conference of poets held
somewhere NewMex way, came to the view
that the rhyming dictionary put altogether too
great a stricture on the structure
of verse, and worse;
it was time, for rhyme
(which came back into fashion
that year with a passion)
to be more relevant,
less of a white elephant;
so
all poets who
wrote in English
(including Strine)
were asked to define
what words should be allowed appropriately to rhyme.
It took a little time;
since they couldn’t agree about basic words
(some felt that ‘ words’ shouldn’t even rhyme with ‘turds’,
they thought that any such ditty
would be shitty;
some thought that such a possibility of rhyme was crap,
and would lead to poetic mishap)
So, first things first, what would be appropriate
to rhyme with love?
(which of course some pronounced luv,
others, lurve) :
some felt that rhyming it with ‘above’
had just a smidgen
of politically inappropriate reference to religion…
* * *
The whole idea was well meant
but you can see just how it went –
it took until 3006
even just to fix
after long debate upon it,
fourteen rhyming words to cover one suitable sonnet
by which time
those celebrated poets who did or didn’t rhyme,
while English tended to vanish,
were writing in Spanish
or Chinese;
bringing American-language poetry to its knees.
then vowelless txt
became the nxt
style
for a while
(which left poetry weakened,
bcs t cdnt b spknd) …
* * *
But I’ll have to cease this sorry tale;
I’ve a Hallmark card I need to mail.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Rhyme
Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The End
One thing I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on but didn't even know
Wasted it all just to
Watch you go
I kept everything inside and even though I
tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a
memory of a time when I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To remind myself how
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with
me
I'm surprised it got so (far)
Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me
In the end
You kept everything inside and even though
I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a
memory of a time when I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Grand-Father's Clock
My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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In The End (hip Hop Remix Version)
It starts with [one]
One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind i designed this rhyme to explain in due time
All I know
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on, didn't even know
I wasted it all just to watch you go
I kept everythin inside
And even though I tried
It all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a
memory of a time when i [tried so hard]
Tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter
One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind i designed this rhyme to explain in due time
To remind myself how
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me
I'm surprised it got so [far]
Things arent the way they were before
You wouldnt even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end
I kept everything inside
And even though I tried
It all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a
memory of a time when I [tried so hard]
Tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesnt even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesnt even matter
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
Theres only one thing you should know
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
Theres only one thing you should know
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesnt even matter
I had to fall to lost it all
But in the end it doesnt even matter
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Did You Understand It?
You've written something with several typographical errors.
And I question the correctness of your language usage.
Plus it had been written in mixed tenses.
I read it more than once.
And after the third reading it finally dawned on me,
You may have done this intentionally.
'Did you understand it?
What it was I tried to do? '
I'm not sure.
'How would you critique it? '
I don't know if I can.
'And you read it three times? '
At least.
'Why should I bother to correct it?
If 'you' read something I wrote...
THREE times?
And you have never expressed any interest before?
In anything I've ever done?
Why should I correct it?
This is the first time you and I have communicated,
In years.
Who knew...
All it took was a few errors,
To get you to give me what I have been wanting.
Here...
Read this! '
Your first and third lines rhyme.
But the rest of it...
Well,
I think this is a bunch of garbage.
'Thank you.
And all this time,
You had me believing...
You didn't care.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Times A' Tickin'
Its half past forever...
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Gotta make sense--
Of the things that you do--
Gotta find answers...
To the enigma thats you;
Its half past forever--
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Gotta try to understand...
Why your heart is so cold--
Gotta find out...
Before i get too old;
Tell ya i been tryin' so hard...
To figure out just what makes you tick...
Gotta find the answer---
Before it makes me sick;
Its half past forever--
And i'm wastin' no more time---
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Tell ya i've never known--
Such a hate filled guy...!
Gotta find out...
Your reasons-and your why;
'Cause its make or break time...
For me and for you--
Gotta settle this one pronto...
Or we will be through;
Its half past foever--
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and all of your rhyme;
Gotta find out...
Just what makes ya tick...
Gotta find out...
Before it makes me sick;
Song Lyrics
May 30,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Res Ipsa Loquitor (2)
let the poems
without mouths
and teeth
without lips
and tongue
let these poems
speak for themselves
let them be
take them for whatever they are
their appearances
let them smell the way they exude themselves
let them be
let their essence be within themselves
even without our own thoughts impressing
imposing dictating
destroying
annihilating
let the poems be like dew
dissolving to the warm rays of the sun
the poems-in-themselves
even without the necessary
english-ness...
let the poems have no shame
in whatever language
in whatever form
let the lousiness be a poem in itself
let the ugliness make you feel its ugliness
let the beauty be there
side by side with everything: darkness and light
evil and good
order and chaos
stars and explosives
pins and touch
holiness and profaneness
etc and the exclusive
specifics and generalities
you and them
and let your feelings go beyond all these
in that field where anything does not matter
where there is no more bother
but just this companionship
this togetherness this wonder
this bewilderment without end
this forever-ness, this eter
nity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come Back Come Back My Dear
come back come back to me
as i put my right hand on the bible and say i love you
turn around so we may embrace each other happily
always knowing the words were coming.but just like me you too
were not sure what would happen once they did
i knew it was about time i should not have hid
under my shroud and shadow and kept myself away
from you how fey
sorry to inveigh
for it should be happy time i say
as i say those magic words again and again and you say ok
ok.. ok stop soon
lets not rush this giggle the pain
is here but i will not let my love wain
my dear i have waited for you and you for me
my star is for you and your star is mine
this is a poem must it rhyme
its just time
to show my love i do not know why i write
i will try make this a reality alright?
poem by David Knox
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My Car Slides (1)
Version1
-------------------------
My car slides
My last words are:
'Help. Mother I'm...'
My car slides
I wait for cold
A fear of the dark
My car slides
And I pray to
Things I've not seen
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
My car slides
The radio plays
'Heaven...' something
My car slides
This quiet night
Time plays slow tricks
My car slides
My clock runs down
Tick tock tick...
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
Version2
-------------------------------
Now there's a girl outside my door
She's raw pink shame
She makes love as the machines play
Sound effects of mayhem
She disconnects my own heart at times
The cure comes next
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
She has the problem of need
Not conversation
She can only whisper such things
Like 'I tear inside'
She's like a gangster in drag I knew
Skin like china.
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mine Doesn't
as i once told you
it is easy to rhyme like
roses are red
violets are blue
flush the toilet
when you are through
or try
this one
eine meine meine moo
catch the monkey by the
tor
but i do not like
rhyming
it is simply
not enduring
it is a matter of
style
and anyone can
be a poet
if he simply
devotes time
to the bursting of emotions
like sun, like
the first day
when rays spread like
hands on the
breasts of the
mountains
most poems rhyme
mine doesn't.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On The Other Side of The Mirror
Girl the girl on the other side
On the other side of the mirror
I can always become you
No you will never be me
Never ever be me
Yes only you can hide behind
On the other side of the mirror
And you will never be around
When I am not here
You could never smile if I frown
Your eyes wont dance
When mine are wet
You could never hide
Never hide from me
But only you can hide behind
On the other side of the mirror
Girl the girl on the other side
On the other side of the mirror
I can always become you
No you will never be me
Never ever be me
[This is 81 and it is for you Dilzz, the girl on the other side of the mirror]
poem by Rowving Smith
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