When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, writing is less unsatisfactory than speech-one does not, at least, hear how inadequate the words are.
quote by George Eliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inadequate
Inadequate.
It means not enough.
Like water in a glass half full
it is insufficient.
Some necessary bit is absent.
Inadequate is deficient.
It is vitamin C
in the diet of someone suffering from scurvy.
Inadequate is precisely what you feel
when you work yourself tired
for something your heart so desired
and in the end disappoint yourself still.
Inadequate is when you lack the will
to even try because somewhere inside
you just know you will fail.
Inadequate is someone when rejected.
Something inadequate is something defective.
Inadequate can mean not deserving company
almost like you're invisible maybe,
too unimportant to like or hate.
This word 'inadequate'
resounds in my head of late.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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Grateful
I carry you up in my arms
Hear you sing yourself to sleep
The sky opens up over your room
You sail into your moonlight dreams
Theres so much more than we can see
Theres so much more than we can see
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
I play this guitar, sing these songs
It changes me, instantly
Love is too simple a word
For here comes the sun in the morning
Suddenly happiness
Comes rolling out from inside me
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
I carry you up in my arms
Hear you sing yourself to sleep
The sky opens up over your room
You sail into your moonlight dreams
Theres so much more than we can see
Theres so much more than we can see
All we are and all we need is
All we are and all we need is
All we are is all we need to be
Grateful, oh grateful
Grateful, oh grateful
(all we are and all we need is)
(all we are and all we need is...)
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Grateful
We always have something
to be grateful for,
our family and friends
whom enrich our lives
with their words of kindness
and their deeds of unconditional love.
We may at times be low in spirit,
feel we cannot carry on,
but we are grateful for the person
who will put sunshine in our lives.
Raise our sprits with their words
and plant a smile on our face.
Being grateful comes with no obligations
except to treat another
in a similar way.
Give them a lift in their lives,
plant a smile on their face,
then we will be grateful for
the good that we can do.
We should never turn away
that little cry for help,
but be grateful that they came to us
to help them through their crisis.
Hoping one day,
they might do the same for us.
6 March 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's For Me
Poetry for me, is just like breathing
I inhale Life and exhale poems
It's for me - I do the writing
No matter, if ever, comments come.
As chosen words come out soothing
Release the pained and burdened heart
I find relief in simply writing
Touching others with what I impart.
But always the joy is within me
The reading by others may truly bless
I'm grateful they read my poetry
But the writing is my true happiness!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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You'll Reach The Peak Of That Literary Hill
Who is to say which poetry is best?
How can it possibly be defined?
Which type is superior when put to the test?
All variations are surely entwined.
Strong words written stand the test of time,
Whether in poetry or in a good song,
Some will just flow whereas others will rhyme,
That doesn't mean either is wrong.
You may hate the words or the rhythm of a tune,
The content will still make you think,
Is the writer a genius or perhaps a buffoon?
With either there's always a link.
Some tell a story just like a book,
The written word can play games with your heart,
When you read one line common sense is forsook,
From that poem you don't want to depart.
It will get you talking that much is true,
You'll condemn it or proclaim it is great,
In some cases the reader may well want to sue,
You can guarantee it will open up a debate.
Who are any of us to judge each other?
Yet critics have the power to destroy,
Freedom of speech is what they smother,
Slagging off others they seem to enjoy.
Constructive critique can improve what is written,
Regardless of it being good or bad,
But senseless censure can leave one bitten,
It can even drive some people mad.
If you want to depart from the madness of life,
Then writing can be a great tool,
It can lift you up and rid you of strife,
Enjoying what you create is the rule.
Some of the time you can please them all,
There'll be those you never will,
As long as when writing you're having a ball,
‘' You'll Reach The Peak Of That Literary Hill ‘'
What Mahfooz Ali means to me! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
When I hear the name Mahfooz Ali,
I think of love, freedom, education, and his famous speech...'I can’t be common man.'
Mahfooz Ali wants peace, love and cuddle for himself and for others.
Without using violence he will set an example for himself and for all to see.
His love for people is so great,
Everyone knew him from Locales to beyond his nation.
He wants humanity
and an education to be equal for all.
His famous speech... “I can’t be common man '
Will always encourage all... to let freedom in!
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Words & Music
You make me
Think I'm listenin' to a symphony,
You make me
Hear the beauty of your poetry!
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words,
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words.
You make me
Hear the lyric in the harmony,
You make me
Hear the chorus in the melody!
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words,
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words.
I see your face,
And when you walk my way,
The violins
Always start to play,
And when you talk,
I don't care what you say,
It comes out I love you so,
Anyway, you should know
You make me
Think I'm listenin' to a symphony,
You make me
Hear the beauty of your poetry!
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words,
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words.
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words,
You got a good way with music, baby,
Got a good way with words.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A note in my diary
Writing this piece of peace
From my heart to you
Reading your words
From your mind for me
Feel so numb and I can’t hear
Anything you say makes me sad
And I am going to buy a fish
A fish to feed you all because...
Some words are incomplete
Few words are baseless
I’m going to take a shower
And get back to work…
Writing a short note and will send
Few diaries of snaps and poems
Pick one of them and wet the page
Let me read your mind and your words…
poem by Nithin Jacob
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don’t bore with speech
To hear an anecdote already known,
To hear redundant explanation,
To hear inadequate description
And to hear exaggerated news
Are boring. The speaker must know
19.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happiest Creature
Take criticism from whom it comes
if the people who criticize you are
not people you look up to, their
words should not disturb you
I accept my personality do not please
people I deal with - keep my ideas to
myself, started a new regime of self-
discipline, bury spontaneity
No more writing about my feelings, seek
substitute outlets, I believe in a better
realm than this faulty human one
which is so unsatisfactory
Withdrawing and living life in my head
I make life nice, when the process is
complete and I live in my head, I
am the happiest creature
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Like a seed
It’s impossible to force
A good piece of writing
It can only come from inspiration
It should flow from the mind
To the fingers and then
Through the keyboard
To the screen
A good piece of writing
Will come of it’s own volition
Without urging, yet with compulsion.
A certain musical phrase you’ve read
A lyrical play of words
That sticks in your mind
Can be the impetus for the lifting
Of the flood gates of inspiration
And once opened, has a compulsive
Addiction, that can be indulged freely
And yet will not be denied
Write down every sentence
or fragment thereof, any phrase
That catches your fancy
and feels good on the tongue
A good piece of writing
Has a sensual quality
That one can almost taste
As it’s written, and can be shared
Wantonly with readers
who choose to indulge
A good piece of writing
is a seed that is planted
In one’s mind, and from which
The words effortlessly grow
It can never be forced
or be pushed to the fore
It will grow from that seed
And will blossom before your eyes
It can grow freely, unfettered
From the most minute idea
But good writing, like a seed
Can never be forced to grow
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Evening Mr. Waldheim
Good evening mr.waldheim
And pontiff how are you?
You have so much in common
In the things you do
And here comes jesse jackson
He talks of common ground
Does that common ground include me
Or is it just a sound
A sound that shakes
Oh jesse, you must watch the sounds you make
A sound that quakes
There are fears that still reverberate
Jesse you say common ground
Does that include the plo?
What about people right here right now
Who fought for you not so long ago?
The words that flow so freely
Falling dancing from your lips
I hope that you dont cheapen them
With a racist slip
Oh common ground
Is common ground a word or just a sound
Common ground
Remember those civil rights workers buried in the ground
If I ran for president
And once was a member of the klan
Wouldnt you call me on it
The way I call you on farrakhan
And pontiff, pretty pontiff
Can anyone shake your hand ?
Or is it just that you like uniforms
And someone kissing your hand
Or is it true
The common ground for me includes you too
Oh, oh, is it true
The common ground for me includes you too
Good evening mr.waldheim
Pontiff how are you
As you both stroll through the woods at night
Im thinking thoughts of you
And jesse youre inside my thoughts
As the rhythmic words subside
My common ground invites you in
Or do you prefer to wait outside
Or is it true
The common ground for me is without you
Or is it true
The common ground for me is without you
Oh is it true
Theres no ground common enough for me and you
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Strikes and cracks
Whomever the love strikes,
On them it makes cracks, sooner or later.
Inadequate perception and inadequate
Reception provide the cause.
20.08.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Words
Baby take my hand and Ill take you higher
cause my one desire is you and I need you now
More than ever if it takes forever and I know
These things are things youve heard
But up til now they were only words
Chorus:
Dancing on the lips of intimate strangers
Shallow like the city, now theyre vivid like the sun
Blinding me with spirit
In the night my private soul can hear it
Common as the hummingbirds
But they were only words
Now I feel like a wise old man
I now understand all the hows, the whens, the whys
These thoughts are mine for the very first time
Love it springs, it blooms, eternal and true
It may sound like nothing new to you
Only words
Chorus
Bridge:
Heres hoping that well never break the silence
Heres hoping that we never run from ourselves
Heres hoping cant and never, not now
And gee its time to go are words well never know
Chorus:
Dancing on the lips of intimate strangers
Oh yeah! now theyre vivid like the sun
Blinding me with spirit
In the night my private soul can hear it
Common as the hummingbirds
But they were only words
Chorus:
Dancin on the lips of intimate strangers
Shallow like the city, now theyre vivid like the sun
Blinding me with spirit
In the night my private soul can hear it
Common as the hummingbirds
Only words
Blinding me with spirit
In the night my private soul can hear it
Common as the hummingbirds
But they were only words
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beware Words Written
words celebrating what is written
beware allure of beauty in words written
seek instead words thoughts not written
words not written thoughts not written
themes not written which need to be written
the importance of the unwritten demands writing
important world needs consciousness needs writing
urgent global necessity issues demands needs writing
actions resolutions policy change harmony restoration needs writing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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