Marina
At the marina in Hout Bay
expensive and fancy pleasure yachts were
lying on the surging swell
with water lapping at their bows
safe in a small harbour
and many times did I long
to be on one of those small ships,
to live such a pleasure filled life,
but it came to me how inconsequential
a live of wealth can be
as if my words, my reality
would loose all substance
while I witnessed fog sweeping in from the sea
blotting out each lovely drifting form
and still I had more horizons to explore,
had more words to write,
had more places to go
and things to experience,
as if my sails had to be set
into a world where storms rage
far from the sheltering
of a safe harbouring place.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Live In A Hiding Place
There are times that I should try,
To be so much more alive
But if time was right then I would be with you again
Or do you worry that I try to avoid the point
And then deny
The time I spent deciding it was you again
It's when I live in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
(That's not hidden now)
I'm safe in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
Think about meaning more as an after word
As in afterward
I return but don't remain,
I'm impatient for a reason
To complain about winter,
Making me see through again
Or is it your damaged reply,
That makes me realize that
The more I try
The less that plans will help me comprehend again
So I live in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
(That's not hidden now)
I'm safe in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I live in a hiding place
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
You think about meaning more as an after word
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
You think about meaning more as an after word
As in afterward
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Junior
They call me junior
I live here on the street
I earn two hundred dollars a week
Id like to say
Hey, thanks a lot
I know Im missin something
But I dont know what it is
That I dont got
I sit here watchin
The people down below
I try to imagine
The places they may go
I dont know
I stay home a lot
I know Im missin something
But I dont know what it is
That I dont got
Chorus:
I see the world through the tv guide
What a safe place for me to run
What a small little man I am
Im afraid of everything
From golden rules to airplanes
What a small little man I am
They call me junior
Im caught up in this hell
Sometimes I feel better
But I never do feel well.
Jesus must have one hell of a plan for me
I know Im missin something
But I dont know what it is
That I dont got
And if I have anything to say
About judgement day
Therell be a crown in heaven
For those who live this way
Anyway
You know exactly who you are
Chorus:
I see the world through the tv guide
What a safe place for me to run
What a small little man I am
Im afraid of everything
From the golden rule to airplanes
What a small little man I am
They call me junior
I live here on the street
I earn two hundred dollars a week
Id like to say
Hey man, thanks a lot
My name is junior
Chorus:
I see the world through the tv guide
What a safe place for me to run
What a small little man I am
Im afraid of everything
From the golden rule to airplanes
What a small little man I am
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Safe Fun
It can be fun to have a little fun
If good fun is coming you shouldn't run
Having harmless fun is fair exercise
Then go and have a little fun but be wise
You should beware of having certain fun
As it could later make you very stun
It sometimes happened after the fun is done
And it could leave you sad and numb
That's the sort of fun you need to shun
When discern it coming you have to run
All the same, a life without fun is done
Then it can be fun to have a little fun
A life should sweetly lived before it's done
As no one knows for how long it is come
Lovely and beautiful like the setting sun
Yet without a little fun life is good as done
A little safe fun a little safe fun
Live your life with a little safe fun
Live it right while there is chance
A little safe fun gives life a prance.
poem by Clarence Prince
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Safe Place
Drawings of seventy three people,
A map of the place where they all live,
I am amongst these people, and
I can hear them in conversation,
Although nobody who lives outside of this room can-
I have given this place a name- a self-fabricated name-
I have found happiness here
Within this world I call my own.
This is my safe place-
This place where skies are touched with clouds of pink and gray,
This place where all is quiet, except for the rushing sound
Of the clear water in the creek that runs through.
Here in this place where nobody cares
What time of day people go to sleep or what hour that they awaken-
This is the place where nobody ever gets angry or slights one another-
Here where we dance when it rains and
Where we laugh when the sun is shining over that creek,
But the sun never burns us.
I have locked the silver gate that exits to the world outside,
So that untrustworthy and belligerent people cannot enter-
This is what I have called my safe place, although
Some say it is dangerous in some sort of way.
Some say that it is dangerous to deny what is real, and
To live in a self formulated world,
Ignoring the lives of three billion people,
Feeling no empathy for those in pain and those fighting in wars out there-
While listening to voices that only I can hear or those I care to hear.
I feel that that world has not been kind to me and
There is so much out there that I fear and it is with great irony
That people are so fearful of my own unfamiliarity- although
To me people who live in this great earth outside of my safe place
Are just as foreign to me as I am to them- I must say that
If I were to continuously wear the key to that silver gate about my neck-
Keeping myself safe here amongst my made up community, I can
Live in my world and others live in theirs and we won't have to fear one another- as
Unfamiliarity is synonymous with danger to so many people.
The sun shall shine upon both places and everyone shall be safe, and
Nobody- not myself, my own special friends or
Those living in the world outside of here
Shall ever get burned…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forms of Wealth
To money is attributed wealth
But the open truth of wealth
Is, It is not the only kind of wealth—
There are also other forms of wealth!
Good health is the best form of wealth
Forging rich links in relationships is wealth
Spontaneous love for all life forms is wealth
To have enthusiasm in life is wealth.
Acquiring life-long learning is wealth
Experience and wisdom in life is wealth
Meeting new people is also wealth
Visiting new places too is authentic wealth.
The quest to explore something is wealth
To have a positive mind-set is wealth
Existence of deep internal peace is wealth
Early morning waking up with joy is wealth.
Possessing high self-respect is wealth
Having strong spiritual connection is wealth
There exist so many types of wealth
Constitute all these and you're with full wealth!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Closet Man
(foster / mercury / gerrard)
Your secrets safe inside me
Closet man
Safe under lock and key
Understand
What youre thinkin is important
Isnt really so, youll see
But your secrets absolutely safe with me
Your lovers songs and nights
Turn into tears
Your tattoos and your muscles
Disappear
And the ring that I once gave you
Now, youre wearin in your ear
But your secrets absolutely safe my dear
Oh, your secrets safe with me
Oh, your secrets safe right here with me
Oh, your secrets safe with me
Oh, your secrets safe right here with me
You know, its all right to go on and live your life
So, come out into the light
Closet man
Theres nothing new at all under the sun
Youve got company
Youre not the only one
Why, its older than religion
And, quite honestly, more fun
But your secrets absolutely safe my dear, dont worry
Oh, your secrets safe with me
Oh, your secrets safe right here with me
Oh, your secrets safe with me
Oh, your secrets safe right here with me
You know, its all right to go on and live your life
So, come out into the light
Closet man, yeah
You know, its all right to go on and live your life
So, come out into the light
Closet man
You know, its all right to go on and live your life
So, come out into the light
Closet man
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetries Travesty
Poetry is not such a pleasure
To those who live in reality
and it will forever be a leisure
To those who live in insanity
The world begrudges poetry with its whole being
For it involves a complex explanation
and from this we believe poetry is not worth reading
For it ensues exaggeration
Hearing poetry for many is torture
To poets this is an old calamity
What will come to them in the future
The great poets of this world’s society
One emotion shaped from a hand gesture
Made something in words; while dreaming
Yet even if poetry is not your pleasure
There will be a day we all will be believing
Paltry words speak of an insecure
Talent; tangible of tergiversation
and from this envoy we can ensure
That in this time there will be a transformation
poem by Joseph Michalski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Explore
explore
all the paths
find the meaning
of each labyrinth
there are shades
of light
from the prism
of our existences
life, death
rebirth
we do not die
all at once
do not deny
pleasure
welcome the pain
and be
freed from the prison
of the tentacles
of dread
and joy
live now and be too kind
for the truths
of love and hate
lust and pleasure
there is not a single
path reserved
for those who really
love every moment
dripping dropping
water and dew
on leaves
rivers rushing
to the sea and rain
always falling
for more
pleasure to the
earth
always there are openings
find them
always there are pleasures
try them
explore this world
of desire
for this is the gateway
to the holiness
of our soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Doses
You'd think after fourty
Long days and nights
I'd finally get used to the rain
But until the storm passes
Outta my mind
The only thing I know
To take for the pain is..
Small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little whiskey and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
My doctor said son
Aint a thing I can do
To help you get on with your life
So till I find a way
To forget about you
Me and your memory
Will have a big time.
Small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little whiskey and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
With small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little Jim Beam and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
With small, small doses
A sip at a time...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Safe Man
A SAFE MAN
WITH A SAFE SMILE
SEEMED SO SAFE TO THE TOUCH
A SAFE MAN AS TO WHOM I I SAW AS MY FATHER
SO SAFE OR SO I THOUGHT
MY SAFE MAN
MY SAFE FATHER
NOT SO SAFE
MY SAFE FATHER WHOM DID THINGS THAT MADE ME FEEL INDANGERD
ON THAT NIGHT HE STOLE MY DIGNITY &+ MY SELF WORTH
MY SAFE MAN
MY SAFE FATHER
NOT SO SAFE
poem by CRZy WIERd ONe
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Never fair
I used to be such an idealist, believed everything goes well when you do well
I used to think that babies were born to parents that always loved them
I thought justice would be served for every injustice suffered
I believed if you really loved you couldn't lose
I used to think sex was just for pleasure
Until one day, just one, the tables turned
And me the passionate lover of love was lying in a hospital bed
Thick blood oozing down my legs soaking everything with my guilt
One moment of pleasure had turned the tables on me
That one moment of pleasure turned me into a mother only at sixteen
He was nowhere to be found, He that had said he couldn't live without me; He was nowhere to be found
Vanished with the summer breeze as my winter started
A child I desperately wanted to die couldn't die; somebody had arrived just on time
And here we were mother and child, both safe
I safe because for my treason I couldn't go to prison for the life I had
Attempted murder would have been my charge
But somebody I didn't know and I couldn't care for saved my life
Now justice had to be served
The more I tried the more I realized justice is a hoax
He got away with paying a mere 300 every month till she was eighteen
I didn't care about child maintenance
I wanted justice served, for breaking my heart I wanted him to pay
But that's all the judge thought it was worth,300 Pula and that wasn't even for me
So I settled with that bitter taste of reality, Life is not fair
poem by Ontibile Laone Kebadirang
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Experiences at church
In the city I witnessed some men
going to church trying to follow God
with a true passion, a true commitment
to finding a blessing
and weary old ladies, children
and some men were bringing offerings
of money, action and time
and some just went there to express
how by wealth they have been blessed
gathering in cliques in little groups and circles,
discussing business, pleasure
and inconsequential things that are of interest to them
and I have witnessed other people,
who saw no need for churches
or for the services rendered by them,
any other than as places for
grand weddings
or to serve God or any higher being
as if they in the image of God
had become gods
and the whole wide world
belonged to them to exploit
and even other people
have got to serve them
and now that the church
to which they did at a time belong
had lost its power
with which it governed the country
from religion they were totally free.
Even if other people were gathering
for self serving reasons
I went to church
to get some kind of blessing
from the presence of the One
from whom all love comes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Social Security
No one is safe. The streets are unsafe.
even in the safety zones, it's not safe.
Even safe sex is not safe.
Even things you lock in a safe
are not safe. Never deposit anything
in a safety deposit box, because it
won't be safe there. Nobody is safe
at home during baseball games anymore.
At night I go around in the dark
locking everything, returning
a few minutes later
to make sure I locked
everything. It's not safe here.
It's not safe and they know it.
People get hurt using safety pins.
It was not always this way.
Long ago, everyone felt safe. Aristotle
never felt danger. Herodotus felt danger
only when Xerxes was around. Young women
were afraid of wingéd dragons, but felt
relaxed otherwise. Timotheus, however,
was terrified of storms until he played
one on the flute. After that, everyone
was more afraid of him than of the violent
west wind, which was fine with Timotheus.
Euclid, full of music himself, believed only
that there was safety in numbers.
[from The Drift of Things, The Figures Press, 2001]
http://www.terencewinch.com
poem by Terence Winch
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I Wrote My Last Romantic Love Poem A Long Time Ago
I wrote my last romantic love poem a long time ago-
Now I write quieter poems
Poems of the pleasure of the old-
A walk in the morning
A sudden turn of sunlight on a cold cold day
A small kindness I may do
Or someone may do for me
Poems of love for my family
And of sadness at the sickness of my friends
Quiet poems
That do not know the wildness of passion
The bitterness of love disappointed
The up and down motions
Of when she does and when she doesn’t
And all her yeses and nos-
I write quiet poems
And I live happily in them
And I sometimes think with sadness
Of the great passion there was once-
But I am old now
And happy and quiet in small things
Grandchildren, among the best of them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Honest Corrector...
when there is something that is missing
you supply the lapse
and i begin to develop that trust,
words are not the only non-living thing
that are misspelled,
others, who despite, their massive
experience of this
daily world,
do not know how to spell at at times
and we move in places where our heads are
marked for correction
we wear the red of errors
and nobody dares to tell us,
they just don't care at all,
with you i am safe, and no matter how
erroneous my life had been or will be,
i am secure,
you are there to correct this life,
and i go to sleep
soundly
warm inside that blanket
beside you....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Will Go
I will ignore, all unreasonable wants...that can only grow,
for upon lifes long River...I do so reasonabley...and gently do row.
So Please do not disturb...my peaceful...life loving flow,
just leave me alone... please...just let me go.
Upon my River... in a small boat that I may row,
to places of my joy....that maybe as yet, I do not even know.
To places of my thought pleasure.... that maybe are not for your so.
Just leave me alone in any place...that I choose to go.
Even if its above your very heights, or even below... Your unsaid... sad low.
just go away....and let me... be free, to go.
poem by James Urwin
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I Wrote A Poem I Could Not Write
I wrote a poem I could not write-
And then when I tried to write it again
Could not write it again -
Poems written and not written
Words and more words
What do they mean?
Paradoxes and games with words
What do they mean?
If there is Beauty in the language
It is one thing
But words just to hear themselves think,
Why should they mean ‘Remembrance'?
Oh Words oh Questions oh Darkness oh Life-
Let me write myself to the grave
Believing at least
That poems too even when they can be written
Have their small unhidden meanings.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Endless World Of Words Opens Again
THE ENDLESS RIVER OF WORDS OPENS AGAIN
The endless river of words opens again
And once more it becomes possible
To say on endlessly
The dreams we can see before our eyes
When we open them to the morning light
Or the darkest deepest sky of star- filled night.
All is open again to wonder
And there can be a hope
Which means
Survival alone is not what Life is all about
But instead also
The countless small beauties one sees everywhere
When one knows how to look.
There is a world after all
Outside oneself
And that world described
Can too be a poem -
And every reality take on its own meaning
And Beauty be in so many seen and said things
That life in joy becomes possible and poetry again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Crackling words
I am the thunder
that crackles in your words
and make blue sparks,
when you write thoughts down.
I branch to wherever
your words go
and hit every place
where your letters go.
At times I bring new life
in your verses
with the rain
and sometimes I am the one
that unfolds heartache, repentance
and hold the abyss,
but it’s I
that builds your words
and tell others
how you see life
and the world.
I constantly spark
new thoughts open
and cleave right through rock
to reveal truth and reality
and at times I light the way
where you walk
and at sometimes it’s I
that brings the darkness.
poem by Gert Strydom
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