A Pen Gone Dry
Barren fields…empty places
Mind devoid of idea and rhyme
Sterile imagination…featureless faces
Webs in memories, frozen in time
Fingers flaccid, mind unwilling
Heavy lies this heart of mine
Creative forces not fulfilling
Empty flask of poetic wine
Dried up source of poetic spring
Used up store of poetic phrases
Emptied purse with untied string
Like worn out shoes and old frayed laces
Time away… might grow the field
Time away… might fill the empty places
Perhaps time will let the emptiness yield
To imagination…and full featured faces
Now...inkwell empty
Tear in eye
Pristine paper
Pen... gone dry...
poem by David Whalen
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Related quotes
How can I empty My Mind?
Came out that emptiness,
Bored of what I was,
Looking at the atom shining somewhere in me,
I looked at wonderful world I entered,
Looking at beauties with beautiful faces,
I was only the faceless,
Wished to have a face!
Result is what I am now,
Facing problems of having a face,
Not seen by myself!
Some say look into mirror,
But mirror showed image which is not me,
How can live this is me looking at image?
In the path I met some one,
They said ' you suffered a lot,
Empty your mind, be happy, '
But how can empty my mind,
So many fill it everyday,
Hungry faces,
thirsty minds,
Needy hands fill compassion,
lusty and greedy, selfish and cruel fill
people fill pain,
Wise one fill wisdom,
Fools fill laughter,
Friends fill it with love and smile!
How can I empty my mind,
When beauty around,
Smiling kids, playing puppies,
Jumping and running kittens,
colourful fragrant flowers,
Surrounded by bees and butterflies,
Green trees with wide hands full of fruits,
All call me to enjoy with them!
Tall standing trees and stubborn mountains,
lakes and oceans full of life,
they fill my mind as much I empty, more they fill!
I emptied mind in meditation,
But the beauty of one who filled beauty in all filled my mind,
How can empty love for that beautiful one,
Who is that beauty in all that's beautiful!
Smiling and loving people,
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Almost Poetic
It's almost poetic
The way you speak
It's almost poetic
The way you think
The way you sleep and dream
It's almost poetic
The way I feel for you
It's almost poetic
The way we argue
It's almost poetic
When we say goodbye
Not knowing the next time
We'll see each other
You are the curved line
And I am the dot
That creates the question mark..
And it's almost poetic
If it were not so pathetic.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Meditation Poem - The Empty Mind
the empty mind is when
you are blessed, totally
absorbed in your work
the empty mind is
when the fragrance of a night bloom
bowled you over giving your mind
an empty space to breathe in
the empty mind is when
you are lost
in the kiss of your loved one
the world becomes one
with the universe and you
the empty mind is when
you meditate on the name
of the divine intelligence
resulting in a centre of bliss
that time has never touched
the empty mind is when
you are in metta meditation
pouring out your love
to all beings those you see
and those you dont
a bliss takes you over
in a sanctum where times
has never had a place
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Now Let Us Begin
man if he is true to be man, is more real if he is at first
less of himself, when he is empty, when he is emptied,
when he is emptying. It is like the stomach, you feel it more
when it is empty rather than when it is full
it speaks to you when it is hungry
it grunts
it growls
it even howls
and sometimes it whistles
than when it is bloated with so much food
and wine and desserts.Because in hunger, in the hopelessness
of our state, in the emptiness of our being
we know where we will place
everything.
we will know our dreams, we meet our hopes,
for the first time
we know precisely when to wish,
and where to put them
when we are emptying,
when we are emptied
and now we are sure when we are filling.
let us begin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Something so ordinary can be poetic
Something like
NO PARKING
Is poetic to me
You are a soul
Lost to this
Town of indifference
And you have
Been roaming
Around in your
Old car of a
Soul and you
Want to rest
And think
And what they
Say is
NO PARKING
That is actually
Poetic
Or shall we say
THIS WAY TO THE RESTROOM
Oh that is really
Poetic signifying
Relief that in this country
There still exists A WAY TO
A way a path a footpath
for someone lost
someone wanting to empty
Himself like a heavy cloud
Wanting to empty
Its accumulating heaviness
Like your urinary bladder
Looking for a restroom and
Oh heavens
This is the way to the rest room
This is the way to the heavens
Where I can just
Have the freedom of pursuing my happiness
Of a simple poetic pee
So this way to the rest room
Is a feeling of relief
It is a feeling of relief and poetry is just like that
You look for a way to unburden yourself
A way to this and that of relieving your
Urinary bladder your poetic urinary bladder
Discharging a discomfort
A heaviness of unwanted liquids
Which you have accumulated
In time
And you hold your thing in the manner that you
Want it held and in the process that you want it done
Without anybody looking
Without anybody saying you this is the proper way to pee
And no other else that can make your pee wholesome
To prescribed rules
And you point it to the big basin of a bowl
You pee
You have just discharged a discomfort
With all the images of
THIS WAY PLEASE TO THE COMFORT ROOM
To your comfort zone
Because you have been in such a discomforting fit
In complete release
You feel relief
And that to me is very poetic
THIS WAY TO THE COMFORT ROOM PLEASE
when all you want in life is to pee
On that instance
that moment is the best poetry
To the lines and verses of a person
simply peeing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Is Poetic And Prophetic
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Those shoes have not been used.
Since many are afraid of walking.
But talk about nonsense,
They choose to do.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
It could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Lips flap flip flop so much.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Flipping lips lick ears to touch,
With venom spiced and nothing nice to say...
Yet quick to pick from empty pockets.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
'Woe goes the mogul to spend from thieving.
Wishing to steal more.
To take and not to give.
Or...
Sympathize with those begging.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Meditation Poem 1 - Emptiness of the Mind
emptiness of the mind
a realm bigger than this head can hold
bigger than dead could hold
it is when you are absorbed in
the blossoming of a night flower
every second it scents time like heaven
emptiness of the mind
it is when your mind fills a huge boulder
like a soul, sprawled over the universe
taking in all with solid stoicism
a desire frozen by coldness
harder to break than rock
emptiness of the mind
it is when your mind cast a bigger mystery
than the black hole
so vast and empty you realise the zen of things
that there are things surviving on emptiness,
just being empty
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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What For? ...
The vast emptiness, which engulfs me,
Is so persistently painful,
If I gorge,
Until overindulgence,
Greed and hatred for myself.
I still - feel empty,
Hollow,
Hollow to the core,
Shallow, hatred and empty - even more.
For food, I know - won't fill my void,
Just detract from my emotional emptiness.
Inside, I'm as barren as the Kalahari,
With an ache as persistent as time,
And a pain as sordid as childbirth,
And a mind as twisted as mine.
In my world, I'm no longer playing,
Just an observer, wishing for more,
In my head, I'm no longer needed,
And my existence - I wonder,
What for?
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Loneliest Time Of The Year
Christmas is the loneliest time of the year
as we remember those whom have passed along
and can never again be near.
An empty stocking on the fireplace
where a filled one should be,
the vacant place under the tree
where presents should be,
The empty space in our hearts
we carry with us all the time
and sadness lines our faces
that should be filled with smiles.
Christmas should be a time of celebration,
but with the empty spaces
there is no cheer here
in the loneliest time of the year.
poem by David Harris
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I am Empty, But Not my cocoon where I wait for Metamorphosis!
I am empty hibernated mind,
but not my cocoon,
In which I sleep waiting for
metamorphosis,
Waiting for coloured wings to
appear! Mind that looks empty,
not at all empty at any point of
time,
How can it be empty,
When my beloved keeps on
pouring wisdom, fills my heart with love
continuously,
Unless I empty it at same rate,
Distribute and spread,
Love will get overflowed,
May get spilled and flow,
Flow like stream, used up by or someone pollute with doubts,
Whereafter love needs recycling,
several process of purification!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Take This Empty Cup
take this empty paper cup
i have in my hand
it is empty
and you will fill it
i ask of you
you think of the hot water
and coffee
so i may not sleep for days
you change your mind
you take the cup
and fill it with coldness
like chunks of ice
no i will not crack
on this sudden change
like the empty cup
in your hand
i am simply made of paper
throw me crumple me
i am prepared and i really
do not mind at all
i have always felt
the same love for you
even in the midst
of a frosty day
on thick fogs
on cold tin roofs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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359
take this empty paper cup
i have in my hand
it is empty
and you will fill it
i ask of you
you think of the hot water
and coffee
so i may not sleep for days
you change your mind
you take the cup
and fill it with coldness
like chunks of ice
no i will not crack
on this sudden change
like the empty cup
in your hand
i am simply made of paper
throw me crumple me
i am prepared and i really
do not mind at all
i have always felt
the same love for you
even in the midst
of a frosty day
on thick fogs
on cold tin roofs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Memoriam (A Child Missed)
A desk lies empty
A missing face to find
A child soon missed by some
Another life consumed by one
A classmate questioned
A missing child to find
While a desk lies empty
A hope dwindles with time
As a child's life once abound
A child's fate is now found
While a desk lies empty
A lifeless child is found
As questions of why arise
A time for tears to flow
While a desk lies empty
A prayer for a missed child we know
A quiet voice to miss
A child missed we know
While a desk lies empty
A question of why to know
A future now not to be
A tragic loss we are told
While a desk lies empty
An answer of why yet untold
A myriad of lives changed
Another youthful innocent lost
While a desk lies empty
At a life's innocence cost
A society believed so rich
And yet a life's worth so poor
While a desk lies empty
Another child's life's no more
A time to ponder a commitment
A life's question to answer
While a desk lies empty...
poem by Robert John Meehan
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Someplace Else
(someplace else)
You got into my life
I dont know how you found me, but you did
It stopped me heading someplace else
Took me a while to say
Wish you belong to me
But now Im saddened like Ive never been
Regretting that well leave
And for a while you could comfort me
And hold me for some time
I need you now to be beside me
While all my world is so untidy
Loneliness (oh-o-oh)
Empty faces (oh-o-oh)
Wish I could leave them all (o-oh)
In someplace else
(someplace else)
I hope you wont let go
Maybe youll let me know
That youll be saddened like youve never been
Regretting that well leave
And for a while I could comfort you
And hold you in my mind
I need you now to be beside me
While all my world is sad and crazy
Loneliness (oh-o-oh)
Empty faces (oh-o-oh)
Wish I could leave them all (o-oh)
In someplace else
And for a while you could comfort me
And hold me for some time
I need you now to be beside me
While all my world is so untidy
Loneliness (oh-o-oh)
Empty faces (oh-o-oh)
Wish I could leave them all (o-oh)
In someplace else
Loneliness (oh-o-oh)
Empty faces (oh-o-oh)
Wish I could leave them all (o-oh)
In someplace else
(someplace else)
I think Im gonna leave them all
In someplace else
(someplace else)
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty time, empty place. Empty heart, empty space.
Empty time, empty place.
Empty heart, empty space.
Give a little, fight a war
Take a lot, there is more.
Left to die, all alone.
Blackened sins to atone.
In a place by a stream,
in a dark, empty dream.
In a room candles glow.
Truth prevails if you know.
Something sweet and something blue.
Something with a natural hue.
Empty Room
Empty room, empty room
How am I gonna fill U?
How am I gonna fill this empty room?
Lonely hearts, worlds apart
Why must they be broken?
How am I gonna ever fill this empty room?
And what is wrong when love is strong?
Why can't it last 4ever?
How could U go and leave me all alone?
Tears fall on barren walls
But what's the use in cryin'?
I gotta find a way 2 fill this empty room
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart, Body And Soul
Minds empty,
souls free,
hearts open,
memories.
Free as a bird,
free as can be,
my soul escapes my empty body.
The mind is now gone,
nothing remains except my memories of a dark nights wake.
An open heart,
an open wound,
forever in need of sympathy.
Memories of a time long ago,
memories have yet to go.
My mind is full,
my soul contained,
my heart is closed for eternity
poem by Andrew Hackett
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Time Passes
Time is passing while I am waiting
For true life to have some meaning-
Time is passing and I blindly
Count to ten upon my fingers-
Not knowing and not even able to distinguish
What is real from what is not?
One, two, three and the voices inside me won't stop commanding-
Four, five and six-
All I see are snakes within the bleakness and confinement of this room-
Seven, eight, and nine, and even through this dim light I believe I am being watched-
I count aloud to ten upon my fingers and
Time is passing and all that is all that I hear for the moment-
All that I see, I reach out to touch or to open my eyes to see-
Time has passed and everything is silent, without a trace of
Ever being near and once more I count,
Starting at seven, eight and then nine- watching the second hand on the wall clock and
Ten? Ten more hours to be locked inside of this empty, room where
The walls are barren and I am alone with my thoughts-
Time is passing and I would be running away, but there is nowhere to run to, except to
Places inside of my mind and one, two three and all that I see is
The walls of this empty room and a locked door-
I could count from one to a thousand and
Inside of this room I would remain- I could count to one million and
I would die before I even got there- so I count from one to three over and over because
Everything is seemingly easier when I am lost inside the world of my fantasies and
I realize now what is not truly real and threatening shall never harm me and
Time is passing and as I count, I am blissfully losing myself inside the world
I have made here inside of my mind for myself, alone…
This way time may pass even before the sun rises tomorrow, and then-and then?
My life perhaps shall have some meaning-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Killing Time
Everybodys going somewhere
See how they stand in line
All complaining their lives are unfair
Too bad for them, too bad for mine
(its the killing time) from now till then
(killing time), not knowing when
Theyre watching me, Im watching them
Standing by the empty mine
(killing time)
Its a killing time
I know it well
Killing time
Until the bell
Too late to change, too soon to tell
And in between, the killing time
(killing time) giving me hell
Up above the stars still shine
Through the poverty and grime
Of the empty streets below
Killing time, nowhere to go
(killing time)
Tell me, brother whats the plan?
Will I be a working man?
And occupy my idle mind
Or kill the time I knew so well
(killing time) giving me hell
Still I can smile at what I see
Soap operas full of vanity
So much wealth and property
Side by side with petty crime
Is that all lifes meant to be?
Commercials full of luxuries
A man has one, a cat has nine
And in between its killing time
(killing time)
Its a killing time
I know it well
Too late to change
Too soon to tell
Still I can smile at what I find
Waiting round and killing time
Bite the bullet
Help me through it
These lunatics will take my mind
Why cant life be more sublime
Than all of this waste and killing time
Killing time
I know it well
Its the killing time
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetic Warrior
A poetic warrior with a ball point sword
A typewriter dagger to lose he can't afford
The computer screen or the note pad are his battle field
Inspiration from others are his strong sturdy shield
Negative critics and writers block he can always defeat
Sometimes his heart might be broken still he keeps it concrete
He can take pain and suffering and use it to create
So his wounds can be a weapon knowing others can relate
He is a poetic warrior from the beginning of time
Defending his homeland of metaphor and rhyme
A hero to the reader always saving their mind
In search of shining armor it is him they do find
They are protected from the uninspiring
The ones who are in love with art defiling
It is them he sends spiraling, into the depths of hell
They can feel the truth and the warmth in his rhythm
In his wordplay many messages are unhidden
He is their poetic warrior from the beginning of time
Defending their homeland of metaphor and rhyme
poem by Sam Edison
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