This Poet's Responsibility
When I’m inspired I’m but an observer,
Enthralled and encompassed in a mosaic of fervor.
The ideas are finished and I’m but a scribe,
Laboring for understanding as each word I imbibe.
So often after a work is recorded,
I read it to comprehend what was reported.
Most surprising of all is that after my screening,
I’ve transcribed words without knowing their meaning.
Themes are random and messages mixed.
Their origin unknown since I remain transfixed
As I record them without any rhyme or reason.
To do less would be intellectual treason.
I’m grateful I received this precious gift.
I know I must give others a lift
By passing on these messages from somewhere above.
Like life, problems are transient, so be happy through love.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Related quotes
Mixed Messages
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
When I get too close to you
I feel the fear, can almost hear it
Then you call me late at night saying can I be with you
I wanna be with you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
You keep your thoughts to yourself
You keep me guessing while were undressing
Then youre gone for days on end and
Here we go again
Here we go again
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
It cant keep bouncing around like this
You cut me loose then pull me in for a kiss
If you know what you want
Why dont you tell me, clearly
Wonder why it bothers me
I wonder why I even wonder why
If I had another lover, well, would it get to you
Would I get through
This puzzle of mixed messages
Mixed messages, that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet's Work
A poet's work is a mystery indeed.
It springs from his mind like a fertile seed.
It's not his place to question its emergence,
But to record and marvel at its resurgence.
Each word, phrase, sentence is predisposed
Like a babe that is born already composed.
It's mission to convey ideas and messages clear
With style and flair never before existing here.
When a poet views release of his finished piece,
Best enjoy as an observer or emotions increase.
How each work is born, like the child at birth
Is shrouded in mystery as is so much on earth.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Work Of A Poet
A poet’s work is a mystery indeed.
It springs from his mind like a fertile seed.
It’s not his place to question its emergence,
But to record and marvel at its resurgence.
Each word, phrase, sentence is predisposed
Like a babe that is born already composed.
It’s mission to convey ideas and messages clear
With style and flair never before existing here.
When a poet views release of his finished piece,
Best enjoy as an observer or emotions increase.
How each work is born, like the child at birth
Is shrouded in mystery as is so much on earth.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Mixed Messages
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Your messages are sending me a meaning.
I interpret most of them as being mixed.
I think you know it.
And that's intented.
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Is there something here we should be investing?
With some time given,
To digest!
If we conversated to replace the guessing.
I'm not the one to be confused about a message.
I'm the kind that likes it more direct.
If you've got some feelings for me confessed them.
Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
Eliminate the guessing,
And put this at rest.
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Is there something here we should be investing?
Let's eliminate the guessing,
And put this at rest.
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
The less guess work will put my mind at rest.
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Less guess work will eliminate a mess.
Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
Less guess work will eliminate to put this mess at rest.
Do you know,
What I think I do?
Your messages are sending me a meaning.
I interpret most of them as being mixed.
I think you know it.
And that's intented.
I think you know it.
And that's intented.
But mixed messages are not the kind,
I think are the best.
If you want some answers,
You're the one that must confess.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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United teams win. Divided teams lose. Play to our multicultural strengths. Stop preaching the messages of hate and division in your campaign themes. And now, a message to both parties. Please remember that those who have participated in the United We Stand America movement are intelligent, thinking, responsible people. They are not unprogrammed robots who can be emotionally swayed by your negative ads or messages of fear and divisiveness. Bluntly, you will have to face the issues to get their votes. Mud wrestling and messages aimed at destroying your opponent and his loved ones won't work. I love the American people and I am sure that you do, too. I owe them a debt I can never repay and so do you. Today, their Government is a mess, and they want it fixed. By joining together as the owners of this great country, they can solve these problems. As I've said before, it is time to clean out the barn — join us — pick up a shovel. Get to work!
quote by Ross Perot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In the Vale of Llangollen
In the fields and the lanes again!
There's a bird that sings in my ear
Messages, messages;
The green cool song that I long to hear.
It pipes to me out of a tree
Messages, messages;
This is the voice of the sunshine,
This is the voice of grass and the trees.
It is the joy of Earth
Out of the heaven of the trees:
The voice of a bird in the sunshine singing me
Messages, messages.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Respect It Deserves
Those who are fortunate,
To heed to those messages sent...
By listening or reading to comprehend,
What has been delivered and mentioned to them...
Has purpose and reason!
Those believing a manipulation succeeds,
Eventually spend their lives...
In some form of recovery.
In an 'IF' wished.
Either a reflection is done,
On a waste of time committed.
Or a chase to catch up,
To escape from the past...
Is foolishly admitted.
In an 'IF' wished.
However one comes to interpret,
These times we live...
It is certain,
There has been an issuing...
Of duties to be done,
Based upon an alignment...
Of Cosmic assignments.
Most of which have gone ignored.
Those who are fortunate,
To heed to those messages sent...
By listening or reading to comprehend,
What has been delivered and mentioned to them...
Has purpose and reason,
Beyond the limited depths of our understanding.
And...
As long as that becomes understood,
Those frustrations we face will be erased.
As long as this place we call Earth,
Begins to receive the respect it deserves.
We serve 'It'.
Much more than 'It' needs us to serve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The f word and me
The other day we discussed reasons
why people use
the magical f word.
a Young woman is of the opinion
that it’s because of a lack of imperfect language,
where a person’s vocabulary
lacks other words to use.
I think that there are many more other reasons
to slip in everywhere
and that vocabulary
has very little
or nothing to do with it.
One thing that can incite it
is exposure,
where people hear it
hundreds of times
every day
like in an army.
Subsequently without intention
it becomes part of your conversation
and your own vocabulary,
without drawing any attention
with yourself.
The word f is a power word
that give colour intensity
to the meanings of other words
and it can underline, emphasize
or lift some out.
You can also use it as a word
that has many meanings
and use it like a good shifting spanner
that shift for meaning values.
This word can also
be almost any word type
that gives bigger power
to other words used with it.
The thing that really matters
what others read
in the meaning of my words
and if I loose integrity by using it.
There are times
my mother wants to catch a fit
when I use the f word
and not from the meaning
of my words,
but from the negative context
that can be drawn with the word
and the easy transfer
of the word on children that hear my dialogue.
[With thanks to Skymaster, whose article inspired this poem.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Intellectuality
An intellectual masters a work he owns,
He is a very ardent man after death has occurred.
With him is a vividness of talk,
Entering nunneries and exiting monasteries
With their messages, like riding a pony
In the night and day.
Deep terrors lurked where he stood,
Understanding him was to master the heavens
And all it consisted of as matter and energy.
The flight to the edge of the world
Made his task in life light,
Different families emphasized their eyes.
All he employed hated his nerves
For he was a sincere intellectual.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The New World
The gift and the curse
With this I'm spreading all my messages to the world.
One then the next
Another new pretext.
A systematic absorption through what I read.
Ideas all my own
A conversation with whole world at the same time.
Intriguing this must be to great minds
Imagine Edgar Allan Poe was living today
What would he write about?
Who would he talk too?
Would it be you?
Would it me?
Are you starting to see?
The great minds of the time stand before you.
People all over the world sharing in intellect.
Conversation with people twenty messages long.
This is the new world of the great poets, writers, and authors all rolled into one.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Unable to Compare
I love you, I love you, I love you
i can say these words throughout my life
to the very moment that i die
and yet it still wont compare
to the love that i shared
with only you, my love
I love you, I love you, I love you
i say these words all the time
i say these words through rhyme
still you wont be able to comprehend
how much i love you through time and time again
i love you, my love
I love you, I love you, I love you
if i must i will die
saying these words for the last time
to prove to you
that my love was very true
i lived through my love of you
I love you, I love you, I love you
now im saying them in eternity
waiting for you to finally join me
to re-spend our lives and love together
to re-prove our love for one another
throught eternity my love for you is still here
I love you, I love you, I love you
i say these word so many times
i say them each day with or without rhyme
and still knowing that you dont know
theres no other way i can show
my love for you
poem by Bellaina Bella Hernandez
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Secret Message
A moving stream of information
That is floating on the wind
The secrets never end
And now they call,
They sing, they play, they dance
For you, from out of the blue,
What can you do?
Chorus:
The secret messages are calling to me endlessly
They call to me across the air
The messages across the atmosphere
They whisper in your ear, they're calling everywhere
Where words cascade like rainbows tumbling from the sky
Then I'll be there, I'll be there
When messages will call to you their secrets all around
Without a sound, they're all around
Chorus:
Those secret messages that spill into the air from far away
So far away
A flowing river of illusion running with confusion
Never gone - it goes on and on
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words and Messages
It started with a word
You wrote it to me
Began an inspired read
Gave to the night poetry
And the beauty found
A reflection of you
A line penned from the heart
Speaks volumes in itself
Quiet little words
Paint a new vibrant world
Unfamiliar and beautiful
And then it’s the same
As though known before
You wrote it to me
A single line began it all
Words and messages
You had me at hello
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Implications Of Empty Spaces
some poems
use spaces
of implied emptiness
between the lines
during the reading emptiness
may tug at the subconscious
begging reason intellect rationalists
understanding
to comprehend
messages
in empty spaces
the mind heart soul turns
poem by Terence George Craddock
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In deed
Back in the door
She 'plonks' the 'messages'
on the kitchen table.
'Messages',
Now who coined that term?
Isn't it the 'shopping',
The 'groc-er-ies'.
The mind does a playback
To the days when 'messages'
Were handwritten notes
By your grandnother in Ireland
To get some milk,
Or some bread
Or something.
Indeed.
poem by Harriet James
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Secret Messages
A moving stream of information
That is floating on the wind
The secrets never end
And now they call,
They sing, they play, they dance
For you, from out of the blue,
What can you do?
Chorus: the secret messages are calling to me endlessly
They call to me across the air
The messages across the atmosphere
They whisper in your ear, theyre calling everywhere
Where words cascade like rainbows tumbling from the sky
Then Ill be there, Ill be there
When messages will call to you their secrets all around
Without a sound, theyre all around
Chorus
Those secret messages that spill into the air from far away
So far away
A flowing river of illusion running with confusion
Never gone - it goes on and on
Chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Him! ...Who? ...He!
Don't you get so obsessed,
To forget what's important to you.
Remember that.
And apply that message,
Where it applies.
'What is that suppose to mean?
What are you talking about? '
I don't know,
I just deliver them.
'Deliver what? '
Messages.
'Messages?
What kind of messages?
And from whom? '
You know?
Messages from Him.
'Him?
Him who? '
You know.
Him! ...Who? ...He!
'Hem Wu Hees?
That Chinese Restaurant? '
Naw, man!
Forget it.
Forget I said anything to you.
Have a good day.
'You tell them,
My liking General Tso chicken...
Is not for public announcement.
Deliver 'that' message.
And you stay out of my business.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Message To Humanity
How an amazing is the one who's pleasure in life is giving
How peaceful would be our lives
If everyone of us had the sensitivity against of the responsibilities as a human being
How beautiful is the soul who lives to give
How admiring is the one who puts the seeds of the love
All around with every steps that he takes surrounds the seeds of love Every where
Everyone of us will born and will die
How blissful is the one who's pleasure in the life is the hospitality for his brother man
Still I have things to do before I go my way
How pity is to waist a lifetime for nothingness
Our lives must be more meaningful than to be wasted for suffer and pain
For fake joys Whice steal away our years and more
Be aware of your steps let's their prints leave behind a valuable messages
The life should be lived for goodness and charity
How its meaningless the life that we do waist
For invaluable life games
The meaning of happiness is not hidden behind the trunks of diamond
Neither in selfishness and the love of posessing
Those who love to take for me their lives are all fake
The life should be precious than to be lived for nothingness
How its pity the life which is wasted without real love
Without understanding the meaning of the humanity's love
And what a noble message it holds inside
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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One Cannot Save the Whole World.
However, one can save one of few
Because everybody is on their way, eventually all became new.
Life is a school room for all of us here,
Miracle do not happen too often, at last until we became sincere.
If one has a bad life style which ruins the health,
One cannot be healed in a moment.
When continues that same which caused the first time,
No way the miracle will help, not even in another prime.
What can we do? Just go on, tell what is on your mind,
But do not try hard, just relax, do your best and unwind.
Whoever understand what you try to teach,
Call it good, be content with those, who you can reach.
There is no place to pick up an argument,
Try to prove only your way is competent,
Love the people who listens to your idea,
Let go the rest, let them learn their lesson in what is their area.
However, do not just read other messages,
Politely say something nice until it fits your experiences,
Or just tell the person to read your poem,
When you just want to get more attention on your system.
So, teach something positive which can help others
Give the world what knowledge you gathered, love your brothers
With negative messages you ruin more life,
When you rattle about your misery, giving them more strife.
This is the way the world goes around,
Do your bet to give others whatever you found,
In the last days we will edit each other,
As the Bible predicts, do your best to make life better.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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The Chronicles of Nostalgia Part 2 Two Sided Memory
Tick-tap-tap-tap-slam-tic key after key
Pressed down meticulously by me
In order to formulate messages to one on the other side
Under my shroud I felt I could hide
Under the poems, under the language and non-disclosure
Of information... didn't seem bother her
She wasted no time
Pierced right through rhyme after rhyme
Of mine all the way in
Like a virus of sin
Yet this force seemed pure
Though it was from 'her'
'her' meaning a girl, I let it slide
Though i knew a chide
Would soon follow... well it did
Like fatality in a can... with an opened lid
Yet this memory happy in nature
Or was it two sided?
poem by David Knox
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