Seagulls for J.T.Early
Seagulls
Masters of both sea and air Flying skills beyond compare.
The seagulls skim the waves then rise a sight that’s pleasing to my eyes
They ride the thermals easily I think that I will never see
a manoeuvre they do not share No matter where I stand and stare their graceful flight sheer artistry. such aerobatics all for free
Although I find it hard to bear I am earthbound and not up there
Sometimes it brings tears to my eyes I’m often taken by surprise wishing for things that cannot be I find I’m weeping helplessly
22-Aug-08 http: // blog. my space.com/poeticpiers
Trigee format
ie each side can be read as a seperate poem amd reading straight across a third poem can be read
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Poem
i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
I'm Not Like You
I sit here now,
Writing this poem.
You read it now,
No matter what’s goin.
Sometimes it’s rainy,
Sometimes it’s not.
You read this poem now,
Go do you the homework you forgot.
Life can be simple,
It can also be complicated.
Be when read this now,
Please don’t get frustrated.
Thanks for reading this,
You’re a cool person that much is true.
But to spend the time and read,
I’m probably not much like you.
This is a shouting poem
This is a SHOUTING poem.
Not a gentle wildflower poem
not a whispering-of-love poem
A SHOUTING POEM.
This is a POSTER poem.
Not a subtly persuading poem.
not a think-about-it poem
A POSTER POEM
This is a HARD OF HEARING poem.
What?
I said a HARD OF HEARING POEM
This is a LOST SPECTACLES poem
to test your sight.
No no not LAST TESTICLES
NO TRY THE NEXT LINE -
A LOST SPECTACLES POEM
This is a HAVE YOU SEEN MY? poem.
I know I put it down somewhere.
Are you sure you haven't seen it?
Oh no, you didn't use it for THAT...?
Why are you laughing it's not funny.
I hadn't even finished it...
This is an ACROSS THE ROOM poem.
Read it while you're in bed
watching TV
doing the ironing
reading the newspapers
putting the new wallpaper up
combing the cat
having a bath
washing the car
talking to the neighbours
gardening
this is an ACROSS THE ROOM POEM
This is a BLOWN ACROSS THE STREET POEM
no need to run after it
and pick it up
just watch it blow
maybe wonder
if you missed anything
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 a SHOUTING poem
This is a SHOUTING poem.
Not a gentle wildflower poem
not a whispering-of-love poem
A SHOUTING POEM.
This is a POSTER poem.
Not a subtly persuading poem.
not a think-about-it poem
A POSTER POEM
This is a HARD OF HEARING poem.
A what?
I said a HARD OF HEARING POEM
This is a LOST SPECTACLES poem
to test your sight.
No no not LAST TESTICLES
no try the next line - -
A LOST SPECTACLES POEM
now where did I put them
This is a HAVE YOU SEEN MY? poem.
I know I put it down somewhere.
Are you sure you haven't seen it?
Oh no, you didn't use it for THAT...?
Why are you laughing it's not funny.
I hadn't even finished it...
This is an ACROSS THE ROOM poem.
Read it while you're in bed
watching TV
doing the ironing
reading the newspapers
putting the new wallpaper up
combing the cat
having a bath
washing the car
talking to the neighbours
gardening
this is an ACROSS THE ROOM POEM
This is a BLOWN ACROSS THE STREET POEM
no need to run after it
and pick it up
just watch it blow
maybe wonder
if you missed anything
(revised)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dying to succeed for Friend Jon London
The pace of life is fast and furious.
We have no time to simply stand and stare.
There is no peace to be found, anywhere,
so many pressures brought to bear on us.
Why is that we have to fume and fuss
lack of success is not so hard to bear
despite the direful warnings we hear
As for myself I find it curious.
Why many men assume that they must fail
if they don’t work a sixteen hour day.
Subsuming every other interest.
Some work themselves to death to no avail
because it seem to them the only way
To prove they’re better than the rest.
18-May-08
http: // blog.my space.com. /poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Invitation
You are invited cordially
To read my poem
Read and reread again
And again and again
With undiminish interest.
I invite you to read my poem
And search out yourself
Where you are missing
And find you out in it
You please read my poem
And see in it how you
Manage yourself to stay
And how you are making
Preparation to go finally.
I invite you to read my poem
And I invite you cordially.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faves And Yuks
and some say
oh that’s my favourite ever poem
my aunt my uncle my teacher read it
to me when I was twelve
and the more I read it
the more true it is and now
I’m older I can say it off by heart
as if the poem knows my heart
and some say
that poem yuk I really really hate it
the more people said to me
that’s a great poem
the more I hated it
now if I see it
in an anthology
I skip the page quickly
I really really hate it
and I wonder if
the more people read a poem
do they take a bit of its power into themselves
so it no longer has quite that surprise it had
or the more people read that poem
the more they add to it
so it has the power
to surprise more people
or do poems
like a rest from time to time
like that old toy in
your grandparents’ attic
which so surprised you
that Jack-in-a-box
with a face like
Pushkin
or Langston Hughes
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Consider your verdict for C.P Sharma
.
The countryside shows black and white a winter scene that’s pure delight.
When observed by a poets eyes. The inspiration it supplies.
he will record in metered verse, before impressions can disperse
He always carries pad and pen prepared to write no matter when.
his muse commands that he must write.Imagination in full flight.
as he attempts to share with you, the simple beauty of the view.
The fields of white are broken by bare trees which show against the sky.
He finds himself a sheltered spot, the day is cold but he is not.
He is consumed by his desire to write in burning words of fire
Describe the beauty of the day before the blue sky turns to gray.
Darkness must fall and will erase the beauty lit by the suns ray.
His brain moves faster than his pen, When he gets home he’ll write again.
Re edit it and check it through. When he’s convinced that it will do.
He’ll type it into his P.C, which will present it legibly.
Then post it on the internet, a task that he will not forget.
He’ll sit and wait for the replies.His poem read by other eyes
their honest comments let him know.Has he succeeded; yes or no.
30-Dec-08
http: // blog.my space.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance Away
Theres a hidden meaning in everything he says, every close encounter, every kiss, every caress. even the truth has got that bitter taste of a lie. well, I can read his lips but I cant read his
.
I can see him dance away now oh oh - oh oh oh.
He was one of the kind that seems so hard to find. theres a change of weather, now he leaves me far behind. that I dont matter to him came as such a surprise. well, I can read his lips, I thou
Read his eyes.
And I can see him...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charles Akalaonu
Wher are you Charles Akalaonu?
Where are you to read my muse?
I have beeen searching everywhere to find you;
Charles Akalaonu where are you?
I hope to find you one day,
I hope to meet you one day,
I hope to see you one day
Maybe one day you will read this poem.
Where are you Charles Akalaonu?
Maybe one day your children will read this poem;
Charles Akalaonu where are you?
Maybe one day your siblings will read this poem;
Say hello to your wife and children,
Great the entire members of your family as well;
Maybe one day you will read this poem.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How the poem is treated by you
My instruction is very simple
Take the poem and read it
Casually in your room, do not
Force yourself to understand it
Just read it and tell me what
You feel,
Be kind to the poem
Like inviting it for tea
With just the two of you
As you sip
Let the poem drift like
A cloud and let it take
Its shape
Be compassionate to the poem
Let is cry for itself
If it settles for tears
And all you can do is
Just wipe its face
With your handkerchief
But you are cruel and so
Indifferent, you slap the
Poem with your right hand
And tell it straight
That you do not like it
That way it has successfully
Puzzled you
Then you leave the poem in
The rest room
It feels that it is a tissue
Paper fit for something
So ordinary waiting for
What others usually do
Wipe their anus after
A poo.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Read This Poem
do not ever read this poem
this poem is containing a virus
and once you read it
you get infected by it,
do not continue reading this
stop at this point.... here....
-nothing follows-
sorry, but you are already
infected by this poem
the cure however is there,
read it back and when you arrive
at the last word
thank yourself, you are worthy of the title
gullible like the author....(ha ha ha)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem To Be Heard
A poem to be held
a poem to be fed, with words stronger than the ancient
spirits.
Ti's a poem to be read by all.
A poem that beats the heat of temptation away.
It's power in every single word attracts the moonlight.
A poem, a light in the dark wilderness.
A poem that is just needed and leaves the audience
speechless.
A poem that comforts a sad soul.
Read to me a poem
when I'm cold.
Read it to me till I'm old.
When I'm heart broken, a poem, a love, I'd want.
A poem, a victory through lives endless battle.
A poem an epistle to mine heart, and every written word
in it is heard.
A poem, about royalty, about Kings and Queens
and how they live in luxury.
A poem, a song about sweet heavens.
Read me a poem and slow my heart beat down.
A poem with a tasty flavor, I'd want to hear.
Read me a poem that explains how Nelson Mandela
conquered his fears.
A poem that can describe how Martin Luther Kings
felt when he fought for freedom.
I long to hear it,
Therefor read me a poem,
to be heard.
poem by Marlene Rashidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wingless Flight
Wingless Flight
I sometime sit and wonder why
There are some birds which cannot fly.
The Emu and the Ostrich too
Remain earthbound as we have to
The penguins clad in black and white,
they too have lost the power of flight.
They do their flying in the sea
I don’t know why it puzzles me.
I have no wings I cannot fly
but if I had I would rise high.
Above the land, above the sea.
Instead of sitting miserably
confined by age to my arm chair.
My aching joints are hard to bear.
Despite my disability
I have the capability
To disregard reality
Immerse my self in fantasy
and fly to where I want to be.
I don’t need wings to carry me.
I travel at the speed of thought
to where the silver dragons sport
I do not need to leave my chair
imagination takes me any where.
15-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is the creator
God is the creator
poem is a creation
Poet is not God.
I am a lover of poem
Poet is my hero
God is hero's hero.
I just read poem
I just enjoy reading poem
I shall continue to read poem
As long as I enjoy poem.
At times
Poems are being written by me.
The credit goes to God
God direct me to write poem
And I write.
God only can explain the meaning
I am just an instrument
And nothing.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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on the 26th of July
i will have a room
at the Waterfront Hotel
Room 302
i will be alone
and will not
tell you
that i am there
it will be a big surprise
for you
unless you read this poem
today
there is a promise
in my words
each syllable has
desire
this poem shall be
a poem of passion
for us
this poem shall
not lie
this poem shall wait
for you
this poem shall
give you
so much pleasure
i have taken
already the element
of pain
and disgust
this poem shall see you
and you shall
not be disappointed again
yes, davao on a big day for just the two of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natural Artistry
Natural artistry
The onion domes against the sky
by morning light blush rosily.
Before the sun has risen high.
Resplendent in his majesty.
He paints the domes with gleaming gold.
Without finesse but lavishly.
His whole approach is overbold.
I prefer delicacy..
The pastel shades that I could see
before the blazing sun applied
his crude form of artistry
and hid the beauty from my eyes.
With coats of gold he misapplied,
that he believes mistakenly.
Will be pleasing to the eyes
of the vast majority.
Who only value opulence.
I could be wrong he may be right.
But I prefer the evidence
which is provided by my eyes.
Te golden glow the sun supplies
to onion domes is transient.
Although pleasing to most men’s eyes,
an artists eyes are different.
I keep my vigil faithfully
though I confess impatiently.
Tomorrow morning I shall see.
The onion domes bathed in beauty.
Before the sun can brutalise
with crass insensitivity.
The pastel colours dawn applies
to onion domes against the skies.
Thursday,27 May 2010 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumnal Thoughts for M'lady Ernestine.
The days grow short and shorter still
The evenings hold a hint of chill.
The sun goes early to his rest.
The time approaches I love best
When natures shows her artistry
abandoning propriety
To suit her autumn madcap mood.
She is determined that she should
Use every shade in her palette.
Create a sight you can’t forget
and she succeeds so easily.
By making certain every tree.
Will don their autumn finery
Their gaudy colours pleasing me
Wednesday,27 October 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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