I am unable to convince you
I do not expect
Anything from you
Nor do I have
Love designs for you
I remember you
Write to you
Simply because
I like you
Adore you
From the core
Of my heart
Though I try to
But simply cannot stop
Myself
From writing to you
Increasing your doubts
About my intentions
About you
My biggest agony is
I am unable to
Convince you
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Related quotes
Expect More
Expect more,
From yourself...
Before your self respect,
becomes enclosed
Behind shut doors.
Expect more,
Not less.
When your best,
Has been ignored.
Expect more,
Or you'll be next...
Left when your intentions,
Begin to bore.
Expect more,
From those awake.
But the exchange makes them snore.
Expect more,
If a game played becomes too straight.
And you must be that whore!
To gain the attention,
Some express you adore.
Expect more...
From them and yourself to win.
In this life expect more.
Don't accept what is suspected.
Don't throw tantrums and fits...
Just to keep limits explored!
Expect more!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You know, I think the, the crucial thing, you know, we have put in place what is, is just simply the biggest, boldest recovery package in history, right; the stimulus package, biggest ever; the financial rescue, absolutely comprehensive; a housing plan - that is incredible medicine for the economy. And we fully expect it to work.
quote by Christina Romer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enigma
The day is coming when the sun will become exhausted
and in her agony she will stop shining.
Darkness will sail across the sky and fill the earth.
The moon will bleed and she will glow red.
The earth will drown in her blood.
Like the First Ocean it will cover it.
So why is it my mind is fixed on you?
As for you, who can tell what your true intentions are?
Your mind is a labyrinth, unable to maneuver through.
Alas! All I have are your dying thoughts, saying their last goodbyes.
O! We were so free! we were so young.
We were naive! We were as good as dung.
So many doubts, so many guesses.
You took all my time...
You, you were my poetry.
But now, you plastic cutlery:
useless.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Do not expect too much
This is it, this is poetry
Written by this man
He is looking by his window
To the world like a little boy
Still wondering, scribbling
Some figures of man and
Superman, putting them wings
Imagining that soon they will fly,
Do not expect too much
I myself do not have wings
I do not promise you any
I am simply writing the view
The green ricefields I do not
Have rice for you to cook I do
Not have water for you to drink
I have these words, only you
Can convert them to steamed
Rice to cakes to bacons to ham
To fish to sea to clouds to sun
Or simply coffee for you to sip
When you still hunger for breakfast.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Simply Deep
ft. Solange Knowles
[Verse 1]
Is anybody home in there?
I unexpectedly dropped by your heart
I simply wanted you to hear
The cry of my love's never ending start
I'mpossibly escaping you
And circumstances never stand a chance
So intrigued by the things you do
[Chorus]
Through my eyes I envisioned you
Your love protects my every move
My life swings to your heart beats
My everlasting love is simply deep
[Verse 2]
In seconds it's been timeless
When I'm with you
song performed by by Kelly Rowland from Simply Deep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Waited Outside The World Of Wonder
I waited inside the world of wonder
The poems were coming to me night and day-
I knew I had a vocation at last
So I gave myself into it-
Year after year
For years I wrote poems
They came in and out of me
Like breathing
And I found them wherever I looked and walked
And took them home and wrote them down
And they became my song and my me and my life and my joy
And oh what a wonder it was to be simply to be
Writing them down-
And now writing this one down after so many years
I too still sing and wonder why God has been so good to me
And given me so much I simply love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Simply Alone
Simply alone as an angel cries
Becoming empty as all her
Hope hides
Simply alone she sits by a window
Bearing wishes of death to Un-fold
Hope lies
Simply alone with out her own home
Beside a story of healing worry
Simply alone and simply Un-known
Hope cries
Simply because she is simply alone
Hope hides hope lies hope cries does hope die?
Or does hope again try?
poem by Susan Covington
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Thinking Process..
i go back to the pages
and i know i am shocking perhaps to all of you
having written much on some things that
perhaps i have not thought of so well...
but they are there and they confront me
that i own them and i feel a little bit awkward
when and how have i written these
matters of the heart
and soul and affection and
(well,) alienation and
stressful situations, not counting
the reality of depressing
expressions in the form of
concealed metaphoric devices,
at any rate, i accept this kind of ability to
just be writing for no purpose, except to express,
for simply writing what i must say
without so much thinking that in the future
i may regret what
ought not to be written...
well, this is it, this is life, and this is what is it
all about...a river simply flowing to the sea
what more? what should it be?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Waiting For The Time That I Have No More To Say
i am simply waiting
for the time when i have nothing anymore
to say and
then i will just sit there
in the corner looking at the sun
that will no longer rise or set,
not
really static,
it simply passes,
as though nothing happens.
and
when i have nothing more to say
it simply means,
goodbye,
i have freed myself
at last,
from the bondage
of speech from
the opression
of words,
from the anxiety
of the syllable,
from the demands
of certain
letters to finally form
a word,
from the
mandate of a blank slate
searching for
its own meaning
in whatever i speak.
and write
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What if it's just a feeling?
What if it's just a feeling and nothing more
just a feeling that's never penetrated to the core
and what shall i do if my love is superficial
how shall I act if i find it's not official
what? i simply lie to myself? what if its not real?
what if i don't love her for who she is like a fool
what if my heart uses and deceives me like a tool
I hope this is more than i feel
i want this love to be pure and true
i want it to be the kind where i spend my life with you
but is it so?
is my love strong and full or will it go
away
one day
and leave me hollow
that's a lot to swallow
but my love, o my dear, hat if its a lie?
i don't wish to lie, I believe i love you
i really do
i could write on the whole of the sky
but would that make my love true?
how can i prove that i love you?
what if its just a feeling
hopefully not...hopefully not just a feeling...... i fear
poem by David Knox
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My Struggle is to be a Man
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
The owner of a rod,
Even if that is a criterion;
Women adore that rod
And use it against themselves
In sadistically pleasing pain;
They moan yet are happy,
They cry yet insist on more -
A woman will always love a man.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A successful worker,
Even if that is an ambition;
Some men are slaves
And earn a keep washing pants on Sundays
In shameless smugness;
They swot yet are content,
They are degraded yet bear it well -
A slave will always love the base.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A humble worshipper,
Even if that is a necessity;
Every soul must have its god
And pray ceaselessly to him
In faithful submission;
They suffer yet are hopeful,
They doubt yet believe -
A man is deeply spiritual.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A proud lord,
Even if that is an attraction;
Many men have to endure hardship
And oppression of every sort
In quiet longsuffering;
They are harried yet are not overcome,
They are tortured yet unruffled -
A man is resolutely resilient.
poem by Samuel Nze
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There Is Simply Love for the Feast of Valentine
There is no black love
For the feast of Valentino
There is simply: LOVE.
There is no white love
In the cappuccino
There is simply: LOVE.
Coffee will always be black
Milk is sometimes white
And chocolate on occasion brown.
Mix all three and the ending product
Is just kaleidoscopically divine
Out of this world, almost perfect.
Love has a great mind
That’s why he or she is blind
This is something that is hard to find.
Love has no color
Love has simply great flavor
And great taste like a classic wine.
There is no Negro love
No Caucasian love
And no Hispanic love.
There is simply: LOVE.
poem by Hebert Logerie (February 2012)
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I'd Love To Write A Love Poem For You
I'd love to write a poem for you
Want to make it good
I want it to be romantic
As you might think it should
You're a vision in my head
And I can't believe you're real
You attend the U of Sexuality
And got straight A's in sex appeal
You're as metaphorical as a simile.
And poetic like a rhyme.
I'd like to write a poem for you
Got some better ways to spend my time.
Like to hug you or to kiss you
or to give you a ride
To take you out to dinner
or to please you from inside.
Id like to write a poem for you
but I'd rather not instead
I love to drive you all around
While you are giving head.
I love to please you with my fingers
I love to make you scream
I love to write you poetry
Love to see you when I dream.
I'd like to write a poem for you
a love poem, there's no doubt
I like when there is no one home
And you're free to moan and shout
I like it when you call me names
And even when you're sad
Its me you trust to make you smile
And that just makes me glad
I think you're great I think you're hot
I think you think the same
I think its not a lie to say
We'd win, if love's a game.
I'd love to be near you all the time
but that simply ain't the case,
Can't believe it's been 3 weeks
Since I saw that pretty face
I'd love to have you by my side
As I lay on this bed
I shall have to settle for,
Your image in my head
I can't wait to hold you or
to kiss you with my mouth
My life is tops when with you
And without you headed south.
I'd love to write you a love poem
but I'm afraid it seems like jokes
I know you don't like cholesterol
So for your eggs I'll cut out the yokes
When you and I embrace again
I'll hold you oh so tight,
I'll kiss your every skin cell
I'm gonna love you right
I love it when you use your mouth
Especially when I'm baked
I love to look at your body
Especially when its nake'd
I want you so so badly
I miss you so so much
I want you as my lifeline
I need you as my crutch
I'd love to write you a poem
but I'm scared I'd never stop
So I'll just keep on writing
Until my eyelids drop
And then when I arise
I'll probably write some more
And I'll just keep on writing
Until your at my door.
I'm not sure you'll get to this line,
As this poem is f***in' long
So you don't have to read it,
but I'm picturing you in a thong
It looks so very sexy
As on you all things do,
I really want you here with me
I really love you, too.
poem by Les Wordsmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Struggle is to be a Man
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
The owner of a rod,
Even if that is a criterion;
Women adore that rod
And use it against themselves
In sadistically pleasing pain;
They moan yet are happy,
They cry yet insist on more -
A woman will always love a man.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A successful worker,
Even if that is an ambition;
Some men are slaves
And earn a keep washing pants on Sundays
In shameless smugness;
They swot yet are content,
They are degraded yet bear it well -
A slave will always love the base.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A humble worshipper,
Even if that is a necessity;
Every soul must have its god
And pray ceaselessly to him
In faithful submission;
They suffer yet are hopeful,
They doubt yet believe -
A man is deeply spiritual.
My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A proud lord,
Even if that is an attraction;
Many men have to endure hardship
And oppression of every sort
In quiet longsuffering;
They are harried yet are not overcome,
They are tortured yet unruffled -
A man is resolutely resilient.
poem by Samuel Munachim
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Sometimes Somewhere
there are times when i simply stand
beside a rail
on a platform that looks out to the sea
that does not exist
seagulls of the mind fly like white foams
fishing
for thoughts and digesting what solid resolves
are.
then the mind becomes a cloud that drifts
on another floating orange horizon
then the body becomes a river looking for
its banks
and then the eyes blink undecided
whether to become a moon
or a star
there are times when i simply sit and watch
time going by
and there is no certain direction
but i simply let all these doubts pass
hoping that they all die
like some kind of martyrs
namelessly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poem about Poetry - Essence
i do not like writing poetry for the
self professed sophisticated people
they cannot take words for what they are
and have the penchant to take more than
what you wish to say; they gobble up words
like the black hole and expect every new line
to have a word from the thesaurus when all i want
to say is simply I love the world for what it is
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Writing is like
One that I had in a dream
I was a bird flying high
Smooth air on my wings
Then I suddenly
Fell down
I did not experience any
Cut on any of my wings
They simply stopped flapping
And the air slipped
Sucked by some
Monster in space
It is like writing
I fall down today
From the heights of
Inspiration and
My mind simply
Breaks down
No thought
No dictation
From up there
Every word is sucked
Into nothingness
And all the boredom
That I have confessed to you
Once twice and always
Such that
You believe that I am
Simply inventing things
For attention,
All these are true.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Novel....
this has something to do with the novel that
you have been writing
the one that you started many years back
about your hero
that you regret writing
now you want to change him
his vision and what he is going to do
in the next chapters
something that he cannot do too
because of what he is known already
to the other characters
they do not expect him to do that
the twist of his character is simply
too unexpected
and they are getting apprehensive
that this novel may not have
a happy ending after all
you think about it for days
you ask and even beg him to understand
that he must fall and be humiliated
and be condemned
but he definitely disagrees and warns you
that if that is the case then
he better be killed and simply be
ended in Chapter X of the novel
you feel pity for him
you think for more days
you give it time tonight
and you decide no to kill him
the novel will not be that good
to kill him or not
that is your eventual decision
at dawn you start typing the
next chapter
you keep him alive
but the novel shall be damned
the other characters of course
shall continue adoring him
till the last chapter.
there shall be no other sequel
on such a bland and usual novel
of that happy ending
that saddest ever-after.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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