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Sarcasm

Can't compose a rhyme?
Don't have the time?
My brain's gone dead?
What's that you said?
Now don't be rude,
Or be downright crude,
I'm not brain dead
If that's what you said.
Inspiration is nil,
Probably this chill,
Been with me for days,
Have been living in a haze.
Tomorrow I'll try
To find a reply,
To your 'funny' jokes,
But at the moment it chokes
Me up, but I'll be
OK again you'll see,
And I will compose
A profusion of prose,
Then my poems will win through
And the joke will be on you.
So go play with your trains,
Which won't require brains!

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What you compose with is neither here nor there, you compose with words, or you compose with stone plants and trees, or you compose with events; the Sheriff's officer, or whatever.

quote by Ian Hamilton Finlay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being A Poet

I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.

Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.

At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.

If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.

There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.

I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.

Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.

In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.

With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.

Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brain Dead

Turn me off
Pull the plug
Leave me with some dignity
I am not
What I was
And I dont need the sympathy
Alive inside me
No one can hear me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Paralysed
In my shell
Enduring every
Endless day
Immobilized
On my back
Aware of everything
They say
Extricate me
Eliminate me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot
I cant blink my eye or cry
Or even speak
They crowd around my bed
Condescending words are said
Thinking I dont hear or know
What is going on - hello!
Cant you suckers hear my cries
From inside Im still alive
Its my decision to abort
Turn off the goddamn life support
Let me pass
From this world
So I fade away in peace
Comprehending
Unrelenting
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot

song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Beautiful

Live in the moment. Experience the present.
Breathe in the perfume of freshly bloomed flowers.
Be conscious of the poetry of existence all around you.
Compose your poems on trees and rocks and flower petals.
Be the poem, be the flower.
Compose your poems on human souls
That will live in the heart of God for eternity.
You’ve never had anything but this moment,
Perceive it as beautiful and make it more beautiful.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All the Jokes

All the jokes have already been told
And so instead, we tell jokes about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad

So instead we tell jokes about how
All the new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
Because they remind us about how
All the jokes have already been told

But these jokes get old very quickly
So we make up new jokes about how
The jokes about the new jokes about how
All the jokes that have already been told
Are starting to get quite old

But after a while, once these jokes
Have gotten quite old themselves
We sit and listen to the silence
And wonder about the past, and how
All the jokes have already been told

Then suddenly, out of nowhere
Somebody comes up with a joke
That had been forgotten long ago
But is so funny we can't even breathe
So we roll on the floor, gasping for air

poem by Derek Ouyang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purple Haze

Purple haze all in my brain
Lately things don't seem the same
Acting funny but i don't know why
'scuse me while i kiss the sky
Purple haze all around
Don't know if i'm climbin up or down
Am i happy or in misery
Whatever it is that girl put a spell on me
Help me help me
Purple haze all in my eyes
Don't know if it's day or night
You got me blown blown my mind
Is it tomorrow or the end of time
Help me help me

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Purple Haze

Purple Haze all in my brain
Lately things don't seem the same
Acting funny but I don't know why
Excuse me while i kiss the sky
Purple haze all around
Don't know if I'm coming up or down
Am i happy or in misery
What ever it is that girl put a spell on me
Help me Help me
Oh i don't know
Purple haze all in my eyes
Don't know if it's day or night
You've got me blowin,blowin my mind
Is it tomorrow or just the end of time
Who knows?
Help me
Oh yeah
Come on know
Tell me
Tell me

song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Alive In The Moment Of Death

We are the nocturnal nightmares of fear induced
We are fear by which hope is reduced
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game
We are as children hung from a rope
We are as children in fear of lost hope
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the silence of all that is night
We are the shadows scared of the light
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the killers of true passion in love
We are the angels of Hell’s mansion above
We are the wings upon which devils may fly
We are the fear and the tears that you cry
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the moon as we are the sun
We are the end and the story begun
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the children who beat you at school
We are the teachers that deem you a fool
We are the rotting as we are the fresh
We are alive in the moment of death.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead To My Poem

DEAD TO MY POEM

Dead to my poem-
Dead to the poems of others-
Dead to poetry
In any way at all-

Into another way of feeling:
Dry- nervous- anxious- fearful.
Prose is my soul
Empty small literal flat prose.

Flat prose
Lines too flat to even need paraphrase
No poem no poetry
Prose.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Puple Haze

Puple haze
Purple haze all in my brain
Lately things dont seem the same
Actin funny but I dont know why
scuse me while I kiss the sky
Purple haze all around
Dont know if Im comin up or down
Am I happy or in misery?
Whaterever it is, that girl put a spell on me
Help me
Help me
Oh I dont know
Yeah!
Purple haze was all in my eyes
Dont know if its day or night
Youve got me blowin, blowin my mind
Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?
Who knows?
Help me
Yeah
Come on now
Tell me
Tell me
Etc.

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silence Inside

The Silence Inside

It's amazing how easily silence can disperse laughter. As joyful smiles to outrageous videos play deep into the night, the loudest silence nobody ever hears coming let's everyone feel it's presence.
For once, in too long, there is a connection between heartbeats, not through laughter, nor music, but in distorted silence. Distorted silence that followed a telephone ring and a playful joke. The one with the last laugh is the first to lose his voice.
Smiles fade and sweaty palmed statues appear where there once stood living beings. Then, cold, like a shockwave that deadens the cells, and makes light work of the ears as the brain shuts off connection to what seems to be a miscommunication, or a bad translation between mediums. And without those
 ears; silence. Doesn't even matter because even with those ears, there's still silence, as your entire world stops spinning for just a moment. one moment, that seems like years.
Then one speaks, in hopes for a false alarm perhaps? But the reply in silence is the loudest alarm you'll never hear. Then you're brain goes dead with nothing but replayed memories; what were you doing? How long ago was that? I can't believe I said that! You know, I never did........ And silence. Then the clock starts ticking, and the crowd disperses, much like laughter, only leaving, in it's wake, an earth still spinning in silence.  

poem by Bragg Adocio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I need a Kiss,

I need a Kiss,
I need a Kiss from you,
That I compose another thought,
I need a composure,
I need a Kiss that is thinking of another thought that hast this talent,

Compose on and on,
I know that you need another kiss from me,
Maybe Iam Composing this meaning and ever realising that Iam a man,
I kiss this ego with my vicissitudes,
These men are so callous in their hearts,

Compose another thought with that Spiritual Being,
It is worth that we are living for that Glory that is to come,
Ain't no dirty with that great composure,
We ain't no other man than the Kingdom that is from this composure.

poem by Maxpoet Beauty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dialogue With A Poet

Are you a poet?
Yes, I am a poet
How do you know that
I have composed a poem
You are a poet
when you compose
But right now?
I shall compose oneday again

You are a poet
the moment you compose
after that?
are you sure that
second one will also
be a poem
If second one is like first one
that is not a poem.

You must know a poem
can be a poem only once
What is a good poem
you never know.

To compose a good poem
you need a situation
or a context
that can not be repeated.

So you are not a poet
You will never be a poet.

poem by Devil Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But somehow, I felt no inclination to be interested in it in any amateur way, let alone professional, until suddenly I became interested. And the first thing I did was to compose: not play an instrument, but to compose.

quote by Gunther Schuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a Disused Graveyard

The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
"The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay."
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.

poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All The Little Children

Walking down the same worn paths again
Do you fly?
Do you?
I'd correct my own way
If I could
If I should
Should do
I will play the same old notes again
Do you write?
Do you?
I'd compose a new chord
If I could
If I should
I should do
All the other children
Love to sing along
But it's my song
I'm supposed to go back
To the first key
But I won't
I'll change it
Do I have to play by all the rules?
Well I won't
I'm changing
Guess I'll have to stick out
From the rest
"He's not right, break him"
Guess I'll have to try to be the best
"That sounds good, we'll take him"
All the other children
Want to sing along
But it's my song
I'll compose a new song
From my heart
Do you like?
Do you?
I'll compose a new song
For the world
Will you sing?
Will you?
I'll breathe my soul
Into the sun
He's the light, burning
And I'll shine down on everyone
Set your hearts a-turning
All your little children
They will sing along
To my song

song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Man Talking

it’s all so funny
even as my friends and relatives
and close ones sit weeping or stand with somber faces;
if I knew all I know now
as I am - cold, dead, finis,
I wouldn’t have done the things I did alive:
and what is it I know, now dead?
It’s for you to find out, mate…
go on and leave me in dead peace,
do your own work, your own living and dying…
I can only tell you just this,
it’s all so funny really…

poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tomorrow

Tomorrow it is
Tomorrow we will
See where the roads they lead
Tomorrow's my dream
Tomorrow's the better me
Tomorrow never may be
Looking inside tomorrow's head
Tomorrow pretends to be brain dead
Tomorrow wants me to long for him
I spend today seeing tomorrow's beam
Tomorrow is there
Yesterday's tomorrow is here
Yet tomorrow I seek
My lamp's got enough oil and wick
Tomorrow where are you?
I've seen today but I look out for tomorrow's dew
Not today, I'll take care of that tomorrow
Tomorrow I'm here, tomorrow you're today
From 5years old, I'm 50years old one more day
The hour-glass spins and sands they turn
The clock it ticks, the second-hand warns
Tomorrow is today gone
What have you done? .

poem by Jenim Dibie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind Searching

I was drifting through the chambers
of imagination, deep in my mind,
searching desperately for inspiration,
but it was proving so hard to find.

Visions of nonsense appeared,
as a smoke screen in my head.
It seemed the brain was delaying
creative ideas from being read.

Imbalances of clouded colour
flooded the chambers of my mind.
One by one, thoughts became stifled,
visualization I couldn’t find.

For some strange unknown reason
there was disagreement in my head.
Mind and brain were in turmoil
until the problem was sorted.

Attempts by the brain to cloud my mind
this time thankfully failed.
Inspiration is now clearly flowing,
but next time, which will prevail.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Call It

I had a brain injury.
I have a brain injury.
I injured my brain.
There.
I said it four times.
 
Wrote poem once about
a moth flew round light
in circles till dead.
It
flies through my mind still,
time after time.
Afraid.
What I've lost.
Not quite the same.
Does it matter?
 
Don't think.

poem by Rick Stokes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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