If your mind is at work, we're in danger of reproducing another cliche. If we can keep our minds out of it and our thoughts out of it, maybe we'll come up with something original.
quote by Peter Falk
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Danger
There is danger atop our heads;
There is danger around us all;
There is danger beneath our feet;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger in the skies;
There is danger in the seas;
There is danger ev’n on land;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from earth’s bowels;
There is danger in forests;
There is danger in hills, vales;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from our brethren;
There is danger from kith, kin;
There is danger from strangers;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger within us;
There is danger from space;
There is danger to our soul;
Nevertheless, God protects us.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind Food
Mind food collects in my stomach,
And so I am an esper, the powerful one,
Who injects beliefs into disillusioned minds
For the spirits I request.
It takes a kilo year, a thousand years,
To abstain from powers so great,
Like a needler in the head and mind;
It needs too much mind food.
Minds of intelligence can grok, and spill
Valuable thoughts as well.
Minds need to be understood by scars
That feed into other minds - this is my religion.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Americans want action for their money. They are fascinated by its self-reproducing qualities if it's put to work.
quote by Paula Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Minds Life Veil Secrets Seeking
yes both knowledge and beauty
can be the cause of pain and bliss
decade upon decade fermenting
in minds life veil secrets seeking
nature spoke in high mountains
even rocks spoke seasons stories
weather whispered seasons secrets
skies begged mind swim in thoughts
a fool philosopher parchment mutters
few souls will ever think in originals
will even have three original thoughts
not even one thought unique expresses
poet sings come share my melodies
written in bliss upon summer days
are life meaning multiple universes
dive from cliff faces into cool waters
bliss experiences free fall in minds
eager to hear nature's songs teaching
mind to think heart to bleed mysteries
sown into all DNA choice code lives
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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S7
early morning eyes
fresh from their dreams
the mind recalls
the heart confirms
all the emotions still contained
vivid images in technicolor
the hands summon the fingers
write, write, write
strike while the iron is hot
cliche, cliche
now the thoughts rush like a flood
from the forest mountains
the fingers are adept at all these
one with the mind and heart
and so here we are again
slaves of our art
redeemed risen anew
maybe still cold and perhaps even frozen
thaw
melt only to be solidified again when the sun comes
irony of the mind
paradoxes of the heart
listen
to you i am saying nothing
it is for me
in the labyrinths of my confusions i am trying to find my way out
trapped fly in a bottle
buzzing for its wish for freedom
genie
wanting someone to rub its ancient lamp
if you let me free
you may have four wishes
and that is not just a promise
it is a contract
morning thoughts
tunnels without end lights yet
there is yet no exit
and so you still find me here in my own shadow
fog and mist
trails filled with tall grasses
up there is the house of my intentions
a figure waits but i do not know yet who
surprises surprises
anticipations of life
these are all the reasons
hazy as a refraction of light bending upon a glassy vision
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are the children of a technological age. We have found streamlined ways of doing much of our routine work. Printing is no longer the only way of reproducing books. Reading them, however, has not changed.
quote by Lawrence Clark Powell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shape Shifting Words
without pause
without stopping
poet prose wrote...
entire poem concept
out complete
final finished
perfect form irregular
Michelangelo minds...
scan depths swift
chop away dross edges
swift writ
work revealing
original shape...
image mind
figure seen
into physical
reality speed world
true x-ray artists...
must ever dice work this
clay marble way fast
image craving out
solid marble blocks
from rich mind...
quarry form shape
shifting words
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let’s create windows In our minds
Houses and buildings
Have Windows
Buses and trains
Too have windows
When open
Light and fresh air
Comes in through them
Allows foul air to go out
When closed
Prevents Dust and filth
From coming in
Let’s create windows
In our minds
Allow good thoughts
To come in and enlighten
The mind
Let the bad thoughts go out
Close the window of the mind
When bad thoughts
Try to intrude in
Listen to what people say
With an open mind
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Originally Yours
challenged to be
original
i quit. i am not
original i am a xerox
copy of
another mind
i am a duplicate
of another carbon
copy
i am an imprint
of another zealousness
i use other people's words
i listen to
every syllable
and they all stay
inside my heart
like decanted
mass from acetic acid
from coconut
wine.
i am not original
i look at myself
in the mirror
i am not original
but i put on a smile
i am too
one kind of
a handsome
copycat.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Fit In, We're Going
here comes the sun, is a cliche.
i put a spell on you, is another cliche.
i think i love you, most abused cliche.
you complete me, movie cliche,
strawberry fields,
scents of magnolia, fresh and soothing,
vanilla ice cream,
chocolate Popsicle,
mint puffs,
and cotton candy, and black forest.
coca-cola and ice cubes,
inside a glass
against the summer sun
your lips sucking the straw
your face covered with my shadow.
i am no longer conscious about their
taboos
got mine, and i like it
when i am finally free.
i store more cliches and
lick them
like Popsicle on a hot
summer day.
no hard feelings. Just fit in.
we're going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Pack Of Lies
That from hard work and endeavour up the social rank you will rise
To me anyhow does seem a pack of lies
'Tis just an old cliche that and nothing more
That some like to quote and we have heard before.
Even in so called prosperous Countries today
Some of the hardest working people work for survival pay
Many honest and willing workers living in poverty
Life for them seems unfair that's how 'twould seem to me.
Many of who on the theory of hard work believe
Say if you do not work hard from life you cannot receive
Yet many of the billionaires of mining and property development and oil
Have never experienced the hardship of toil.
Just an antiquated cliche it does seem indeed
That those who work hardest in life do succeed
The underpaid workers create many a billionaire
For millions around the World life does seem unfair.
I know of an old bloke who has worked hard in his working life
And he struggled for to pay for the funeral of his wife
Just one more poor hard worker his type are everywhere
There are millions of them in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
The Thought Police
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
Chorus:
Thought police
They will put you under
The thought police
They will take you in
The thought police
They will clean your mind out
The thought police
You can never win
You can never win
You can never, never, never, never, never win
There are people around with problems
Those who live in fear
Running from the shadows
Waiting for another year
Thought of the secrets
Secrets of the mind
Thoughts can spell out danger
To the leaders of the time
Chorus
Thoughts are fleeting glimpses
Of the future or the past
They lock ideas in a bottle
Its time to break the glass
Hiding out in the daytime
Crawling through the night
Keeping out of danger
Just trying to find the light
Chorus
Chorus (x2 and fade)
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clichés I Have Loved
‘My life has been one long…
cliché! …’ she sobbed.
He put his sunburned
muscular forearm flecked
with golden hairs
around her shaking shoulders.
She lifted her tear-brimmed,
reddening eyes to meet
his steady gaze.
‘Oh my darling..’
she breathed.
And they fell into
a passionate
cliché..
I’ve said it before and
I’ll say it again.
One man’s cliché is
another woman’s love-byte.
John Ciardi said,
The craft of poetry
is not easy.
It is better than easy.
It is joyously difficult.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Art Work
The love of a muse,
The pen of an artist,
This ink work will teach many yet unborn.
This art is from a realm to guide you,
This art work is like a mustard seed aroun you;
It is original!
It comes from a realm unknown;
It will inspire you.
This art is real to abstract your minds,
The innovative nature of my mind to you all;
It is the act of my dreams beyond imaginations!
This art will teach many,
It will inspire you all that love the muse.
This art work,
It is like a mustard seed;
It will grow to give you joy!
It is like the muse next door,
It will touch and influence you;
This art work ia sll that i have as an artist
This art work is never known,
It is called, 'Pen-Painting Graphics Abstracts'.
This art will teach many,
My innerself from the realm of imaginations!
This art will teach you;
But, the artist is never known.
This art is from a realm to guide you into my heart,
This art is from a realm to bring you into my world,
This is the love of a sweet muse to you all;
This art is from the pen of an artist who,
Is yet to be known.
This art is here to stay,
This art is all that i have for you all;
Cos', he who proves his skills proves his realms.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love In War
[Hook]
Let's kiss, not fight
Try to do whats right tonight
Make love, not war
What the hell are we living for? [repeat]
[Verse]
Tonight we'll make the prettiest song that no one will ever hear
No one will ever hear
No one will ever
These ain't the times to be alone cliche the end is near
Cliche the end is near
Cliche the end is
Quickly approaching while we carry on
No one is promised another day
Why can't the story end like fairytales often do
Before I let you leave I've got to say-ay-ay-ay
[Hook]
[Instrumental]
[Hook]
song performed by by Outkast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Guard
The young
cannot believe that the old
were young
once.
The old
have quite forgotten
that the young
were once old.
Danger
comes from the worlds,
from the heavens,
from the hells.
Danger comes
through the sense doors.
Danger comes
to the body
which breaks and stumbles.
Every lungful of air
infiltrates microbes of destruction.
Every spadeful of earth
shelters a thousand enemies
that writhe and wriggle,
insinuate through cracks and fissures
in the tissue of the flesh
- and destroy.
Danger comes
to the mind
which absorbs the subtlest poisons
and provides a fertile, breeding ground
for the subtlest of poisonous plants;
to seed and germinate,
overspilling in the ten directions.
Danger comes
from having a body,
having a mind
wanting a body,
wanting a mind,
wanting.
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts Mind Soul Echoes
thoughts like children
scatter from our mind
thoughts were part of us?
thoughts came from us?
thoughts live beyond us?
thoughts outlive our lives?
thoughts mind soul echoes
haunting fragments of mind
light shines through prisms
separates into colour bands
thought trails sunset colours
spectrum ribbons thoughts
spiral into keen conceptions
meaning insight discriminates
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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