Your Actions
Your love to me is like,
A cake baked on one side;
And your actions towards me are like,
The Valley of Yezreel! !
Hear with your ears and learn with your mind,
For you are like a silly goat without a heart!
But i will be with the interpretations of my dreams.
Arms of silver and legs of iron,
With the stomach of bronze and the head of wood;
Walking and talking to gain my status,
But i am no parrot in the forest of thieves.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Some-Fake-A Baked Cake
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
A peaceless sleep...
Like many who walk 'mean' streets.
No I wont have,
None of that!
Strung out on dope,
Because I can't cope.
No I don't have,
None of that to keep me off track.
Or,
Make an impact.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have...
That which I don't.
Psychotic I'm not...
Like the ones who worry a lot.
Or hooked on smoking pot.
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
No I don't have...
What I do have.
And I do have,
That which I don't!
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
And I wont have...
None of that.
Even though...
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
Some-fake-a baked cake.
And I wont have...
None of that.
No!
I wont have...
None of that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mom, I'm Hungry
A funny in my tummy
I want to eat something yummy
I grabbed the phone to call my mommy
And told her, 'mom, I am hungry'
When my mom came home she baked me a cake
I munched and I crunched the cake she had baked
After a while my stomach had growl
The word mommy I just howl
My mom came as quickly as she could
And gave me snacks that looked so good
She gave fruits that looked so nice
And a glass of water she filled with ice
After I ate
My stomach had ache
I never knew I ate so many
I'll never eat food so plenty
I always say 'Mom, I'm hungry' at our house or even outside. I made this when I was in the 6th grade.
PS: This poem is not a true story =)
poem by Geneen Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A human body
Your
Head is not head
A computer...
Your
Eye is not eye
A camera...
Your
Ear is not ear
A cell phone...
Your
Mouth is not mouth
A wet grinder...
Your
Nose is not nose
A window...
Your
Stomach is not stomach
A Hotel...
Your
Hands is not hands
A wonder tool...
Your
Legs is not legs
A bycycle...
Your
Heart is not heart
A Rose...
With love...
With out love
A pump...
It is all
Your and your's of
Human body....
Simple Example...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Baidoo
To gain access to the forest is like,
To gain access to your love;
And, you are like one of the smart waiters around me!
But, let me break the jink.
Of the forest of love that muses with my heart!
For, my mind is now set on you like the eternal blues of love;
And i will always wait for you my sweet one,
Because, you are the very one that my heart had been searching for.
Baidoo my lover!
receive my muse and take in my message;
For, to gain access to your love is like,
To gain access to the thick forest!
And, i will always do my best to wait for you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What for? If only the goat can tell.
O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body
Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy
The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silly, Silly Fool
(kenneth gamble / leon huff)
Such a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i
Oh, i, just a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i
Hey, I should have never fallen
Back in love with you
Knowin how you get a pleasure
Breaking my poor heart in two
You made it sound so convincin
When you said
Im your woman, youre my man
Now I really need you
And I sit here a loser again
I guess Im just a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh i
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, fool am i, mmm
I should have never trusted
In my heart to lead the way
Now my mind is all busted
Thats a fools price to pay
You made it sound so convincin
When you said youd never, never go away
I should have never listened
To anything you had to say
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, yes I am
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh
Such a silly, silly, dilly, silly, dilly fool am i, oh yeah
Im such a silly, silly, silly, silly, silly fool am i, oh yes I am
Im such a silly, silly, dilly, silly, dilly, silly fool am i, oh yeah
Im such a silly, dilly, silly, dilly, silly fool am i, oh
Silly, dilly
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
She Never Lets It Go To Her Heart
Everywhere I go, theyre staring at her
Every man I know he wants to have her
I guess I ought to be a jealous man
I look the other way, theyre hittin on her
Every night and every day, they telephone her
They try to get to her but I know they cant
Chorus
She never lets it go to her heart
She never lets it go that far
When they start talking she starts walking
Right back to my arms
She can turn every head
But she never lets it go to her heart
She walks into the room and everybody watches every move
Hoping she dont love me
I know it by the way they hang around
But they dont realize theres more to her than
What meets the eye thats why Im certain
No matter what they do to reach her now
Repeat chorus
When they start talking she starts walking
Right back to my arms
She can turn every head
But she never lets it go to her heart
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Purled and Plain
A century ago or more,
a ship was wrecked in seas remote
and ‘mid the flotsam cast ashore
on limestone coast, was boy and goat.
On windswept isle of grass and scrub,
the goat was free from ship's confine,
The boy used frantic hands to grub
the remnants spat from sated brine.
Some bags of wheat, a box of tools,
he dug from sand to grant relief,
Though most the bounty lay in pools,
unreachable on distant reef.
He supplemented meagre fare
with bitter berries plucked from shrub,
And mutton birds entrapped with snare
were baked on fire, sparked by rub.
He ground the wheat to make a flour
and over stones, the dough was spread.
The fragrance drifted by the hour
and goat was drawn by fresh baked bread.
He only sought companionship
and never planned to eat the goat,
With winter's ‘proaching icy whip
he knew he'd need a cashmere coat.
Goat's lower jaw slid side to side
and yellow eyes had black slit stare,
With shears from toolbox opened wide
the boy slow clipped its shaggy hair.
It took him weeks to hand spin yarn
and fashion knitting pins from wood,
And further weeks to stitch and darn
the front to back with sleeves and hood.
The goat made charge as show of scorn
with flying hooves and lowered head,
The boy made threat to cut its horns
for buttons, but used wood instead.
The goat grew back its hair twice thick
as winter seized with frigid grip,
The boy donned coat and buttoned quick
when out of blue, appeared a ship.
The boy was saved but goat remained
a taste of freedom in its blood,
The boy looked back as vision waned,
the goat stood, placid, chewing cud.
The boy became a man of lore
who crafted tales and ably wrote,
And kept in some forgotten drawer
a wooden-buttoned goat hair coat.
poem by Diane Hine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Red-Haired Man
There was a red-haired man who had no eyes or ears.
Neither did he have any hair, so he was called red-haired theoretically.
He couldn't speak, since he didn't have a mouth. Neither did he have a nose.
He didn't even have any arms or legs. He had no stomach and he had no back and he had no spine and he had no innards whatsoever. He had nothing at all!
Therefore there's no knowing whom we are even talking about.
In fact it's better that we don't say any more about him.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Armah
You are like a soldier shorter than his own riffle,
But i am here to love you with the sweet muse of my mind;
So wake up and live now and let me know you better!
For this muse of love is all about the rule of the law.
A round applause! ! And of the crown on your head;
But, i've go the picture of you inside me all day long.
I am Armah walking along the mountain side,
So, get this message straight to your heart!
And at this crucial moment to understand my status;
For, i am here to love you with the sweet muse of my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Today
Love your head
Love your face
Love your hands
Love your chest
Love your heart
Love your stomach
Love your legs
Love your sex organs
Love your foot
Love your mind
Love you...love you...
Love any time
Love any thing4u...!
Love your family
Love your' s world...
Ok...don't miss it;
Love today....!
Truley love...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dark Sayings
A tree in the midst of the earth,
Wet with the due of heaven;
Like the potter's clay,
I have my mind as a poet to reachout to you.
A meesage to the Queen Mother of Lewis' Isle,
rabbah is a stable for camels;
I have my mind to share with you.
Dark sayings,
Dark words,
Hidden works of art for many to learn;
Listen oh heaven and earth.
Of lambs, rams and goats;
Of lambs, bulls and camels;
Like the fingers of man's hand that wrote.
Of the writings on the wall,
Dark sayings to the Queen Mother;
Excellent in splendor,
Of wordly luxuries to the dark sayings.
A message to the Merchants of Tarshish,
To the Great Sea at last with love;
Life is like unwalled cities where,
The fowls of the air do learn from.
Dark sayings,
The image's head of fine gold;
I am on the bank of the River Niger.
To come in like a storm in the valley of travellers,
Of creeping things upon the earth;
I am with the stick of Ephraim to,
The sea that feeds us.
Of the dark sayings,
Like men upon the face of the earth;
Of women like a cloud to cover the land.
Let the wind blow always,
Let my mind learn always,
The writings on the wall matters to me;
Like the opening of the Summer.
Oh waters of Meribah Kadesh,
The image's head of fine gold;
Breasts and arms of silver with,
The feet of iron and clay to learn from.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Overnight Angels
(ian hunter)
In the heat of the indian summer
Out along the appalachian way
You can hear the sound of the overnight angels
As they pray
Charged by the light of some mariners lantern
Spitting out a cold but triangular spray
Cant you hear the screams of the overnight angels
As they play
Talking to the spirits through a silver curtain
Reaching out beyond the length of the light
You can catch a glimpse of an overnight angel
As he shines
Dancing through the toys of the dead and the living
Laughing at the poets changing their rhymes
Cant you feel the pulse of the overnight angels
Beating time
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels
Children of the junkies led the revolution
Push yourselves over get yourselves there
Someone throw their arms round the overnight angels
Cause they care
Angels dont need no phony religion
Throw them out along with the ethnic nowheres
They will never speak to the overnight angels
They can only stare
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Overnight angels
Overnight angels
Talking about
The overnight angels
(fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Goat Hill
Goat Hill
Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son
poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Freedom is walking
It is spoken man is born equal and free
To a degree the world disagrees
Some foresee what others cannot see
Freedom is walking away with glee
We have a right to Christmas with a tree
We have a right to enjoy a shopping spree
We have a right to travel the land and the sea
We have the right to an educational degree
Stop the silly talking
Whilst Freedom is walking
Freedom is not a jubilee
Freedom is not a guarantee
Who says Freedom is free?
It is spoken man is free of thought
Without the need to fear higher courts
Some have spoken and finally resorted
To hide their thoughts from being reported
We have a right to a chosen culture
We have a right not to be tortured
We have a right to nationality and security
We have a right to be part of a minority
Stop the silly talking
Whilst Freedom is walking
Freedom is not part of community
Freedom is never an informality
Who says Freedom is immunity?
We want opinion without distinction
We want a world without discrimination
We want a kingdom of utter freedom
We want it in all shapes and form
Stop the silly talking
Whilst Freedom is walking
Stop the silly talking
Whilst Freedom is mocking
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Iron Sinew
An iron sinew and a brow bronze!
With bankruptcy in the land of your muse;
But the muse of your love is what i know,
And like the thoughts that appeared to me.
Sterling,
Cheap labour,
Finance,
Large amount of gold,
Bounties! !
But with the muse of imperialism to disturb your plans!
And like an iron sinew and a brow bronze;
But never give up on your dreams.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Day for you (3)
may the grey arms of the morn'
turn into life for a day
may silver meet you just there
where your chest is hollow bare
feeling like a ladder on a stair
sturdy ladder legs standing stronger
on the grey arms of early morning
silver legs staring seeing
seven doves' innocent love
in grey arms of the dawning
Silly Confusion
Meet me on the moon very very soon
Meet me on the stars jupiter and mars
Fly me to a star
Burning out in space shining on my face
Fly me through the night on your silver wings
Over crystal seas valleys of the kings
By the lilac shore where the dragon flies
In the diamond skies
Silly silly confusion
And tangle of wild illusion
Were living in a wonderworld of fantasy
We spent all our times in sweet living dreams
Its a silly silly confusion
Like a flower of wild profusion
You can do the things in life
You always wanted to
Within your heart you know it always will come through
Take me for a ride in your dream-machine
To a time and place where no one has been
Let me look upon worlds Ive never seen
In your dream-machine
Fly me to a star burning out in space
Let me feel the light shining on my face
Sail on solar winds sail on silver birds
Through the universe
Silly silly confusion...
Its a silly silly confusion...
Silly silly confusion...
Its a silly silly confusion...
Silly silly confusion
Silly silly confusion
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hospitable Hosts
To thieve and take,
May increase one's social status...
Among thieves.
And there are plenty who fake,
Being more than just thieves.
But a gathering of thieves does not perfume the air.
No matter what is used to diffuse the stench...
Many are proud to stink so loudly.
As viewed with noses lifted high in despair.
To thieve and take,
May increase one's social status...
Among thieves.
And there are plenty who fake,
Being more than just thieves.
Some even pretend to be humanitarian.
If not tax deducting philanthropers.
However...
Those who know they are straight up crooks,
Are the most entertaining and hospitable hosts.
They ensure everyone is provided comfort.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!