Street Decor
So stunning a stretch of kolams
Before each house in definite coloumns.
Simply superb, woven into patterns.
Designs of dots, single and multilines,
Encircling loops and inviting colours
Well done by bare fingers
Threading out flour of rice or quartz!
Down on the cleanly cow-dunged floor
An auspicious embellishment beside the door.
An aesthetically geometrical art so popular.
Dots foretelling the pleasing figure
Of a variety to decorate a border
Or to illustrate divine lords super
Or sensibly any paraphernalia in favour.
Note! ricy kolams mean an offering
To insects and birds welcoming
spirituality in, well off thereby warding
Evil. Ephemeral everyday but much amazing
In perpetual ethnicity with tamil ladies!
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Tiny Words
Who am I?
What I am?
..dont really know..
Today right now
I think I feel to be
nothingness or
just a minuscule
dot
Almost invisible
in these immensities
can't see myself..
cannot find me..
but hey! ! guess what? !
other minuscule dot I hope
is out there thousand and
thousand miles away
this dot, it seems to me,
does
think and wonders.
of my minuscule heart
my thought my doing
Woww! Awww..
Isn't that amasing? !
here I am!
no more lost
These dots:
are never meant to see
or touch..
each are soo far away..
too far
still
soo close.. sometimes
they stretch a rope
from one to other
become more close
..by closing eyes..
dreaming of
touch smell taste
such a new feel
new spinning dance
new colours
amasingly the world around
transforms
everything
becomes soo small
reduced to dots
and so
two, three, millions dots
tinny, little.. quietly
just for a second. right
now
transform..
in one..
they grow and grow
what do I see
one very very biig big heart..
these dots..might bring
some drops
of happiness or sadness
what are these dots?
maybe, no more than
little tiny words..
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Latter Days
We
Are
Dots
And
We're
Beautiful
And
Funny
And
Good
We
Are
Dots
We
Are
Dots
We
Are
Loved
July 2012
poem by Judith Gerstenkorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I discovered about 150 dots is the minimum number of dots to make a specific recognizable person. You can make something that looks like a head, with fewer dots, but you won't be able to give much information about who it is.
quote by Chuck Close
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Is It True?
for after all
is it true that a good poem
does not teach?
or preach?
or even tell something
so important
is it true that it simply
makes you feel?
logic is for
mathematics and
any exhortation on
how we live
and why
must be archived
in the ethics department.
this one must make sense
in the color and in the scent
and in the sweetness
or bitterness of its
words
it is more of a comma
than a period,
and some dots,
lots of dots.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
See The Constellation
I lay my head on the railroad track
Stare at the sky all painted up
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Two years ago moved from my town
I was looking up past the city lights
But the city lights got in my way
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
I found my mind on the ground below
I was looking down, it was looking back
I was in the sky all dressed in black
See the constellation ride across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Just a guy made of dots and lines
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Can you hear what I see in the sky?
Notes
The dial-a-song version:
I lay my head on the railroad track
Look at the sky all dressed in black
Your train is gone, wont be coming back
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
The city lights think nothings there
No real stars, nothings there
My lone constellation rides across the sky
No cigar, no lady on his arm
Just a guy made from dots and lines
Just a guy made from dots and lines
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Super Sadist
Super angry
Super hated
Super evil
Super serrated
Super guitar
Super faded
Never sad sad sad
Super hated
Super sarcastic
Super sedated
The super sadist
Keeps his hands in his mouth
That's gold plated
Hates himself more and more
Cause he's made it
Super evil
Super jaded
Never sad sad sad
Super hated
Super sarcastic
Super sedated
The super sadist
Super high tech
Super pay check
Super ego
Super hate pro
Super cautious
Super nauseous
Never sad sad sad
Super all gone
Super hold on
Super ego
Super phenomenon
Super destroy
Super small boy
Never sad sad sad
Super asshole
Super nothing
song performed by by Jack Off Jill from Sexless Demons And Scars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Happy Pongal and Tamil New Year,2010
To staff, CRRIs and students
May festival of harvest bring
Wealth, prosperity as we sing,
And cleanliness of surroundings,
For Indians and other earthlings!
May festival of harvest bring
More piety, less worldliness,
Regard for animals in farm,
And all who give us happiness.
May festival of harvest bring
More joy to homes, our kith and kin,
As colorful ‘kolams’ adorn
The houses, showing Indianness!
May festival of harvest ring
The bells of labor and of toil,
As sweetened rice begins to boil,
O’erflowing in clay-pots to soil!
Wishing all Indians globally
‘A Happy Pongal,2010! ’
And Tamilians globally,
‘A Happy Tamil New Year,2010! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-1-2010
From, Dean, IRT PMC, Perundurai
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Polka Dots And Moon Beams
(BurkeVan Heusen)
A country dance was being held in a garden. I felt a bump and heard an "Oh, beg you pardon."
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams all around a pug-nosed dream.
The music started and was I the perplexed one.
I held my breath and said "May I have the next one?"
In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams sparkled on a pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream,
when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Happy Pongal,2012 (in poem)
May harvest crops of rice and sugar-cane,
Raised up by human toil and sun and rain,
In cooking-pot well blend with milk, honey,
To boil over bringing joy, health, money!
May Pongal kolams show this in great hue;
May clothes anew and festivities too;
May Maker bless humanity full view;
May Pongal show our faith in God that’s due!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-01-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Polka Dots & Moonbeams
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the spirit album, and has also been released on the reflections and the country roads collection albums.
A country dance was being held in a garden
I felt a bump and heard an oh, beg your pardon
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams
All around a pug-nosed dream
The music started and was I the perplexed one
I held my breath and said may I have the next one
In my frightrnrd arms, polka dots and moonbeams
Sparkled on a pug-nosed dream
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers
As we floated over the floor
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers
And perhaps a few things more
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter
I know the meaning of the words ever after
And Ill always see polka dots and moonbeams
When I kiss my pug-nosed dream
Words by johnny burke, music by jimmy van heusen
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Above The Shed On The Winter Porch
Above the shed, the winter porch
a young wild dove
continually calls its mate
and when the door slides open
I see dots on its breast
and at the pond it quenches its thirst
and I see dots
and I see dots
that shines; when it is frightened it becomes sullen.
Above the shed, the winter porch
the oak tree rustles
and then my mother coughs badly from croup
where sometimes she sits and dream
as the sunshine flames up hot
and I watch her caringly
as the sunshine flames up
as the sunshine flames up
as if a field fire runs past.
Above the shed, the winter porch
a swarm of swallows peck,
sometimes doves land in a group,
and at times I hear my mother sneezing
while I am caught with a kind of hope,
but I know that time is running out
while I am caught,
while I am caught
and my life at times feels sold out.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Women's Greatest Assets
Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.
Babies, burying their heads in their mama’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to dangers, say bye bye to insecurities,
They wrap their plump lips around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they suck!
Sfuuuuuuuup~ sfuuuuuuup~
Slurrrrrrrrrrp~ slurrrrrrrrrp~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most primitive form) ,
Overwhelm these babies, as they suck fervently
On the little pink dots of their mama.
Men, placing their hands on their women’s bosoms,
Say bye bye to self-discipline, say bye bye to dignity,
They circle their fingers around the little pink dots.
And voilà, they caress!
Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Shhhhhhhhhh~ chhhhhhhhh~
Hunger, desire, yearning,
Lust (in its most mature form) ,
Overwhelm these men, as they caress passionately
Around the little pink dots of their women.
Voluptuous, round, soft, and plump,
Breasts- the ultimate source of pleasure
For babies and for men, alike.
poem by Irene Pang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hibiscus
It flourishes in the tropical sun
Its colours radiant
A burst of sun
It dots the land
In a tropical breeze
Were the coconut trees
Sway too and thro
The sent sways sweetly
Around you in bliss
Its colours so soft
It makes you think
Of a rainbow just passed
In it's beautiful wake
Vibrant the colours
Captured in tapestry art
A custom we have
From a culture lost
Its beauty sublime
It's a work of art
One that was made
By the creators hand
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Feelings...
actually we are falling
like rain
but the difference is that
we fall
upward
because we are transcendental
creatures
who know the cycles of light
and darkness
who know that life is a ring
there is no end to this falling
and so we
simply stay
there is no floor
we only dream of skies
no ceiling
we only have space beyond
and this pretty makes all interesting
together
we are actually floating in this fall
and so we simply feel
that we are watching things around
us
we invent television and
we sit by the sofa
and watch
there is no falling after all
we are here
dots on earth taken by its spins and
revolutions
we are like stones now
stable on the sand...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hunting Song
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
On the mountain dawns the day;
All the jolly chase is here
With hawk and horse and hunting-spear,
Hounds are in their couples yelling,
Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
Merrily, merrily mingle they
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
The mist has left the mountain gray;
Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;
And foresters have busy been
To track the buck in thicket green;
Now we come to chant our lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
To the greenwood haste away;
We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot and tall of size;
We can show the marks he made
When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;
You shall see him brought to bay
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!
Tell them youth and mirth and glee
Run a course as well as we;
Time, stern huntsman! who can balk,
Staunch as hound and fleet as hawk:
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay!
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sin City
(gram parsons/chris hillman)
This old town is filled with sin
It will swallow you in
If youve got some money to burn
Take it home right away
Youve got three years to pay
But satan is waiting his turn
The scientists say
It will all wash away
But we dont believe any more
Cause weve got our recruits
And our green mohair suits
So please show your i.d. at the door
This old earthquakes gonna leave me in the poor house
It seems like this whole towns insane
On the thirty-first floor a gold plated door
Wont keep out the lords burning rain
A friend came around
Tried to clean up this town
His ideas made some people mad
But he trusted his crowd
So he spoke right out loud
And they lost the best friend they had
This old earthquakes gonna leave me in the poor house
It seems like this whole towns insane
On the thirty-first floor a gold plated door
Wont keep out the lords burning rain
On the thirty-first floor a gold plated door
Wont keep out the lords burning rain
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Flower To Auroville Mother-56
Violet(Viola spp.)
Going out of hand my heart
Questing for flora all over
And this Violet a divine art
When captured by manoeuvre
Bloomed a Violaceae-mart
Amazing me with a hang over
A hurried study did my heart
Of variety violas however
Just to end up with one Violet
Of whom small, shrubby some-some are
Perennial, annual some-some Violet
Of upswept four, lobed one lower
Petals of colours many to treat
Violet, blue yellow, white to flavour
Bicoloured some alongwith impart
All now in one hold to favour
Medicinal and culinary art
Heart and oval leaves to savor
Petaled perfume performing sweet
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Loneliness Is The Human Condition
Partially hallucinating on television,
Eyes on the floor,
Thought to illustrate the door
By counting it’s individual marks of ceramic.
With its edges as sharp as knives,
The focus is clearly cut,
Abominated by the designs,
Painted on with tranquility and lust,
Desire determined when the cold air stirred,
Out of nowhere came the voice of
Lonely and invited it’s company to a cup of tea.
poem by Courtney Vaughan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!