When I first heard of this word, I wondered what that was.
I thought that was some types of onomatopoeia such as:
Click clack, pap pap, tap tap, crick crack, pouf puff,
And you get the idea. I thought that was kid’s stuff.
I was very wrong. It is something revolutionary.
It is a miracle; there, you find the whole planetary
Universe and more: the invented and the uninvented
Stuff. There, you can find out about everything,
About what the king ate last night and what happened
To that food; you get the idea. Don’t be a dingue.
I am not going to tell you the meaning of this word,
Go there and do your own search. My dictionary
Is now obsolete. My books are now archaic like the sword
Used to guillotine Joan of Arc. This is really visionary.
I feel like I am the Andy Rooney of poetry,
And I have to write about every imaginary
Feelings, every feather that touches the baby’s booty,
And about every crying infants under the shining sea.
Google is extremely potent and important
It is much more than we can fathom,
It is much more than every kingdom.
It is about quoting and unquoting the President.
Such as saying: “Mr. G.B. tear down this fence”.
And I am no Ronald Reagan. Building the defense
Is vitally important. They should hire the Boston Celtic’s coach
To run the Homeland Security. Wow, they can turn me into a roach
For saying something like that. As we know, lies don’t fly
But the truth always flies like the butterfly
Of early summer. Oops, this is out place.
This poem is about Google, the internet palace,
Where you can find about what happened to every corrupt politicians.
I just found some dirt about some not too famous friends and magicians.
Yes, I read the charges and the dates that they were sentenced,
And where they did the time. This is a new stance.
This is more than gossips. Now, we have all of the facts,
From now on, when I hear or see this word which lacks
No introduction or explanation, I know that person is talking
About the search engine of the internet and this is serious thinking.
Now I wrote about this phenomenon,
I am going to be sued by an angry cloistered nun.
poem by Hebert Logerie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Google, The Genie
Google, literally means that large number
Besides 1, if hundred zeros slumber.
It's search engine that runs at fastest
At speed above supersonic and jet.
To experience a thing need not ogle,
Explore through and links of Google.
Any sort of information sought,
In a fraction of second it is brought.
All about the galaxy and the globe
Just Google, there you can probe.
Event, incident, person and place
Old or current, Google helps trace.
Virtual panorama of the universe
Visit Sun, Moon, Earth or Mars.
Know your multilevel family tree
Through Google absolutely free,
Find the friend relatives forgotten,
Refresh your knowledge or lesson.
It's obedient to grandma like a Jinn
Taking command search her medicine.
When slips name of Benson, her 'grandson'
'Search in Google', says giggling Benson.
(c) S.D. Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some say Google is God. Others say Google is Satan. But if they think Google is too powerful, remember that with search engines unlike other companies, all it takes is a single click to go to another search engine.
quote by Sergey Brin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It is very similar to companies like Google and other internet companies. When you go and search on Google you don't pay for that. But sometimes you click on an advert and Google makes money on that.
quote by Niklas Zennstrom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
As 42 Is the Answer to Everything (revised)
Might I interest you
in a poem of 42
where the answer to everything may be found
There color can be heard
And number is the word
exceeding every expectation ere earthbound
Might I share with you
a secret you once knew
though you left it in the backyard of your youth
when regrets arrived there never
and tomorrows stretched on forever
where only hopes and wishes spoke the truth
Should this proposal you avow
your mind may then allow
suspending laws of both time and space
Beyond boundaries of science
perhaps you’ll learn reliance
on a power that proceeds from inner place
Should 42 appear deficient
perhaps your imagination’s insufficient
to step beyond the box like trappings of your mind
Please believe me when I say
you can go everywhere today
for there is no end to the universe you’ll find
Dreams never secede
Or imagination exceed
Should you but loosen grasp on the limited material
Greater riches you would find
In the bright light of the mind
No earthly treasures can meet measure the ethereal
Having been there myself before
I often return to explore
lately considering it as a permanent address
Spirit houses I do find
to be simply quite sublime
Though where to place the mailbox I can’t guess
Might I take you with me
through visions we can see
when we have learned to look without our human eyes
There 42 makes perfect sense
the finest truth one can dispense
For it's only the word ‘IMPOSSIBLE’ that lies.
Readers note: For some insight into the inspiration for this poem
you might wish to Google: ‘42’ or alternately search ‘the answer to everything’
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Birth Of An Idea
God's word do i read
God's word dose it lead me
I praise God in the morning in the evening
I thank God in the morning in the evening
I ask God for healing of my kidney
I ask God for a dealing of my Sidney
If you Seek first the kingdom of God
God will leek your desire in his kingdom
His son Jesus Christ died for your sin
This pun can't be said he lied in a pin
So be sure he keeps his word for all
There will be more sleep in his word to fall
Pray God's word you'll find an Idea
Keep that idea in mind through doubt
Reap a pregnant word & don't poubt
Seep through pain of God's word
Leap for joy to see God's insane berth
It is not a toy but a rebirth of God's idea
You will be hot for God's answer to prayer
Give birth KNOCK and stay in God's hair
I promise you will not be in hock to play
in God's Answer
poem by John Raymond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For I Am The Coldest Spot Of This Earth
perhaps this woman is taking her revenge on me
i who have not spoken for days since i am attached to a screen
of this tablet,
on the same routine tonight as i write these lines
(of course, i am not talking still in defense of my poetry)
she enters my study room, opens her personal computer,
presses some letters, google, google, google maclintok
a vacation for one in palawan,
calypso, victoria's secret and it will be till
11 o'clock in the evening when i am not still going to bed
and sleep
and perhaps snore
it is getting even with me
who cares less for affection, who sets aside love in favor of
poetry and
the search of this self,
i am not troubled, i am determined, i am still in there
whatever i must lose, i am not swayed
back into her fire arms, for i am water, i am rain, i am the coldest
spot of this earth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Word That Wouldn’t Fit (Fun Poem 25)
A writer’s life is full of woe,
you find a word you like,
then you write something,
and try to fit that word in,
but when you look again.
That word you thought of
it just won’t fit in,
no matter how hard you try it,
that word just will not go.
In a fit of frustration,
you stick it here and there.
Just like jigsaw puzzle
where the pieces will not fit,
so this word will not go anywhere.
In the end you say, “OH heck! ”
Then you put the word
to the back of your mind.
Maybe another day
in another poem,
that word just might fit.
Having said all that,
I’m not betting on it.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where Is The Peace?
Where is the peace we all do need?
Has it been choked by evil deed?
Is it still there underneath the sky
where all winged creatures continue to fly?
It's hard to find but we pursue
and try to fathom where it flew.
Where does it dwell amongst all men?
Has it been strangled by hands that can
never seem to let go their hold
in search of power, greed and gold?
In defense of peace there's always war
that kills all we are searching for.
Peace is a dream that's too far away.
It's now just a word that people say.
Its meaning has been lost in sorrow.
It's never today, always tomorrow.
And tomorrow's an ambiguous place,
never found in our time and space.
Where is the peace we all do need?
Can you find it in places where men bleed?
If that be the case we'd be on our knees
with prayers of thanks and feelings of ease.
But when the blood runs cold and life departs,
peace can only be found in our hearts.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Undiscovered Fresh Dirt
'Did you not say this was undiscovered,
Fresh dirt?
This is the same dirt that has been here for years.
What is so unique about it? '
How it just lays there under the Sun!
Remember how it use to kick up dust...
When others rushed here to try to find something?
Different from what it had been then?
'Why 'now' is this so important to you? '
Oh, it's not!
I just thought if I told you it was undiscovered,
Fresh dirt...
You'd be the first to spread the rumor!
I had no idea you would see it like I do.
It's the same stuff, right?
'You must be running out of ideas,
To keep your name scandalized? '
Well,
I must admit...
It isn't getting any easier.
I remember the days when I didn't have to think,
To be innovative!
Today...
Everybody wants to get in on the act.
And I had been crowned 'King of Eccentricities'!
Remember?
'Man,
You are not in your right mind.'
Thank you!
At least I know you and I will always remain good friends.
You are quick to identify that.
And that is why I am not afraid to expose it to you,
At all.
Come on...
Let's do lunch.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In A Word
Stop, taking for granted
I am the one whos wrong
You might be surprised
Time standin still - seems like we dont belong
Youll realize
Start giving to me all you can
Stop telling me girl just where I stand
Chorus:
Its your turn you should show what you know to me
One Ive not heard before
My concern you cant tell what you know to me
You cant say it all in a word
Life turns around
Time not to look away
And face what you see
Truth shows itself - watch everything you say
When youre talking to me
You find yourself just in time
No dont be afraid of what youll find on the way
Chorus:
Its your turn you should show what you know to me
One Ive not heard before
My concern you cant tell what you know to me
You cant say it all in a word
Its your turn you should show what you know to me
One Ive not heard before
My concern you cant tell what you know to me
You cant say it all in a word
(instrumental break)
Chorus:
Its your turn you should show what you know to me
One Ive not heard before
My concern you cant tell what you know to me
You cant say it all in a word
No you cant say it all in one word...
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Disconnect
and if the server crashed
would I still be a poet?
and if the Internet crashed suddenly
in the whole wide world,
who’s going to ever hear of me?
I would like a law
to forbid poetry in public,
to have to go in specially designed places
with a pencil and a piece of paper
to write only for myself
as if my poem were
an engagement ring
a vow for love.
I’ve been hurting my soul
on a piece of paper
in a puddle of words
you call it clichee
a hole
or a whole lot of nothing
while poetry is
a crosswalk
between life and death
or a wild boar chased by bullets
in a pristine forest
My writing is not
a simple pastime
but a dedication for God
Who sometimes puts his palm
on your forehead
Woman
even if Life is a hospital
where people treat you
with drops of Indifference
while Death counts souls
if the Internet crashed
I would walk barefeet in the dust
to feel the cold body of my ancestors
or I would shave my head
so that nobody notices
how beautifully it snows
I would stop this talking
(a whole lot of nothing)
and I would kick you
where it hurts the most
to prove you
how much I love you
I was born on Google
everybody knows
and I endlessly seek
a place
to confess
poem by Ionuţ Caragea from M-am născut pe Google (2007), translated by Ioana Tirtirau
Submitted by Ionuţ Caragea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
The Story Of A Search For A Poem
A man went in search of a Poem
He searched everywhere he walked
He searched inside himself
He searched inside the poems of others
He searched and searched -
And what came to him were fragments of many poems
And he thought perhaps that they themselves were the poem
But they refused to be satisfied with themselves-
So he searched for a way to put them together-
But in searching came upon more fragments
With each new fragment totally re-ordering those that had gone before-
So he thought ‘I went looking for one poem but found many
Perhaps there are only many poems’
And he began to write them down
And felt at times that he had found many poems
But always too he knew he had not found the one-
So he searched and searched again
And could not find the Poem-
He is still searching
And does not know where the poem is
Sometimes he thinks it is hidden in the many already written
But he does not have the eye to discern it the heart to feel it-
He now is surrounded by poems-
They are everywhere-
But he still cannot find the One Poem which is the Poem for him
The Poem which is his Poem and his Poem alone-
He says he is still searching and will search to the end of his days
But he is old now and soon may be too weak to search
And so the Poem he seeks the one he has longed for all his life
May never be found
Though he goes on searching still.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
Predestined space
every poem i wrote had existed
somewhere else - another realm
i worked on a jigsaw puzzle
to put word by word the poetry here
every misplaced word looked like
an upturned king's head
or a chair's leg in the king's mouth
each wrong entry was so telling
a mistake i had to make sure
each word did not slip in
the jigsaw puzzle,
that they went to the right place
every poem i wrote had existed
somewhere else - another realm
the mind recognised the space
for each individual word to make up
- the poem
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Series of Tubes
That there Internet thingy
is like a series of tubes
All the smart fellas
in the hole world
got tagether and
they put smart stuff in them tubes
An now all ya gotta do
to larn stuff
is getcha self connected to that
Internet thingy
(You will need a computer for this)
(and some other stuff + electricty)
They you can pull stuff
up from them tubes
smart reading stuff
(if ya like that kinda thing)
or even important stuff
like how to knock down your old barn or shed
or even how to build a real bomb
(not for knocking down the barn though)
I know all this cause my congress man talked about it on TV
And George W. Bush says so two (I think cause he outta no)
The End (only the end of this poem)
If you like this poem a whole lot I think you should vote 9-10
(mostly 10 i hope)
If you like it some but not the very most maybe vote 6-8
(but you could still vote 9 or 10 to be nice)
If you only think it is middlin they go head and vote 5
(cause that's in the middle of 1-10)
If you kinda don't care for it you could vote it a 2,3, or 4
(that would be kinda low though)
If you hate this poem then you are left with only a 1
(there are no zero votes)
(But I think a 1 vote is not called for unless you are pretty mean though the last time I looked this was still a free country so you can vote 1 if that is how your mind runs)
Thanks for voting or not. (and tell your friends if you liked this poem)
probably don't tell them if you did not vote more than a 5
Billy Bob
poem by Billy Bob Noes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dead Coach
At night when sick folk wakeful lie,
I heard the dead coach passing by,
And heard it passing wild and fleet,
And knew my time was come not yet.
Click-clack, click-clack, the hoofs went past,
Who takes the dead coach travels fast,
On and away through the wild night,
The dead must rest ere morning light.
If one might follow on its track
The coach and horses, midnight black,
Within should sit a shape of doom
That beckons one and all to come.
God pity them to-night who wait
To hear the dead coach at their gate,
And him who hears, though sense be dim,
The mournful dead coach stop for him.
He shall go down with a still face,
And mount the steps and take his place,
The door be shut, the order said!
How fast the pace is with the dead!
Click-clack, click-clack, the hour is chill,
The dead coach climbs the distant hill.
Now, God, the Father of us all,
Wipe Thou the widow’s tears that fall!
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Pigmentation Of My Skin
If I never said a word,
About 'stuff' I thought about...
Would my not saying anything,
Be interpreted by someone else...
With a stopping of my thoughts about it?
I heard it said to me,
In varying degrees of sentiments expressed...
How strong and resilient I appeared.
And that I had the patience of 'Job'.
Able to endure and move on without dropping a tear.
I've heard it mentioned to me,
I rarely complained about my differences.
Or reacted negatively,
When this was brought to my attention.
And with an air of confidence I continued to stride.
And why should I say anything about 'stuff',
I wish to keep inside?
Everywhere I go the pigmentation of my skin,
Seems to speak for itself.
Or the ones who lack it I would hear tell others,
What they believe I feel, think and know....
About 'everything' without hearing a word from me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Another Big Idea
Im waiting for someone to find me
Someone to pick me up
And make some use of me
In this life of wild adventure
Theres so much I could give
Now thats what I call positive
The words that Ive read
Keep going round my head
Been driving me crazy for years
Everybodys talking
But I find to hard to hear
Theyre all explaining something new
(it happens every day)
A new inspiration that can change my way of life
Another big idea
And then they disappear
Undercover at the airport
I saw your smiling face
But I dont have a place to go
So leave a flower or you can fax me
This countercultures won
The word more dangerous than the gun
This sinister spin
The state that Im in
The words that Ive read
Keep going round my head
Been driving me crazy for years
Everybodys talking
But I find to hard to hear
Theyre all explaining something new
(it happens every day)
A new inspiration that can change my way of life
Another big idea
And then they disappear
Some will lead and some will follow
Thats the way it goes
For all we know another big idea
Everybodys talking
But I find to hard to hear
Theyre all explaining something new
(it happens every day)
A new inspiration that can change my way of life
Another big idea
And then they disappear
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Search the life
Life is
Search
Search life
Intresting to go on
You did not serch
Boor with boor...
In Internet yahoo search
Google search
Also thear...
Very for intresting...
Very good for using...
At net...
So...
Search your life
Safe with you...
You live your style too happy...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07