Loving all those mistakes
all the alls the extra s
mistake in tenses
how i so strangely love them
in all my poems
they make my poems
come alive
alive with a human touch
the missed s,
the extra f
a classic touch they give
to my poems
as if they are work of old
weather beaten
socrates' laws
on stones
the T turing into I
shakespeare's misspelt lady macbetf
dickens' forgotten ghot
wordsworth extra clouds
i love all the mispelt words
in a classic way
the rawness my poem run
over the computer
into a world that has
given up
up pen and ink
for the written words
the human touch
of old time poetry
that runs fluid as
the blood in my veins
i love all the human touch
in my poem
all the mispelt words
i love each missed s,
each extra f
i missed too
the pen and ink
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Anything To Be Happy
What would you do for a touch of happiness
Would you run that extra distance
Would you spend that extra hour
Would you show that extra effort
What would you do for a touch of happiness
Would you feel that extra pain
Would you spend that extra cash
Would you drive that extra mile
What would you do for a touch of happiness
People would do anything to be happy
It is something they need
They do the “extras”
When it is all quite simple
Happiness comes from the inside
poem by Paul Celano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Human Touch
Everybodys talking to computers,
Theyre all dancing to a drum machine
I know Im living on the outside
Scared of getting caught between
Im so cool and calculated alone in the modern world
But sally has a hard time holding back
The alley to her heart is a beaten track
Shes got the love monkey riding on her back
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
You know, I got my walls, sally calls them prison cells
Sometimes I need protection, Ive got the chains
I got the warning bells
I sit so snug and isolated alone in the modern world
But sally has a hard time holding back
The alley to her heart is a beaten track
Shes never out of love, yeah shes got the knack
Youve got love I want it, come on girl
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
Human touch
Human touch
Human touch
Human touch
Im so scared and isolated in the modern world
We all need
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
Human touch
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A little extra, from an extra ordinary woman
She goes out of her way and travels that extra mile
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She consoles you, smiles with you, cries with you and for you
A little extra than anyone else
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She spends on you a little extra than she does on her own self
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She uses her extra strength and wisdom to pick you up when you fall
She blinds her sight to your imperfections
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She loves you a little extra just to stand out different
From all those who love you
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She starves herself so that you may eat a little extra
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She forgives you all the time
Even when you guilty mind knows you don’t deserve such kindness
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She may not be the most perfect woman but
She is indeed an extra ordinary woman
She is your mother, your wife, your fiancee, your girlfriend
Your sister, your grandmother and your daughter
You best appreciate her
poem by Grace Mdemu
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Fate of Top Poems!
Past poets were remarkable by their poems only;
But present poets are made remarkable by others!
Poetry of the past are no doubt top poems ever;
But poetry of the top are not listed in top poems!
Becoming top poets how can theirs have no place
Among the top poems of the poetry list? I wonder!
Touch stone of the top poems depends on merit
But not by the supports of friends for fun ever!
Poems of lasting value only can become classic;
But poems of no merit also have become classic!
Poetry of the past are romantic and also classic
But poetry of the present are neither but modern!
What is the yardstick to select poems as top ones -
Just support of some but not merit and meaning?
poem by Ramesh T A
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A poem for you...
I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Poems About Poems About Poems
Poems about poems about poems-
More poems and more poems and more poems-
Poems poems poems poems poems-
How many poems?
How much poetry
Until there is no poetry at all?
But only 'words' and 'words' and 'words'
Until one goes far away
Where there was never a poem before-
And suddenly hears
“Let there be Light”.
And Poetry perhaps
Is born again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Xxxtra
omake
special feature
extended edition
everyone wants extra
but nobody loves to be extra
double cheese
free recharge
exclusive gift
everyone wants extra
but nobody loves to be extra
riders
first class service
profit plus
everyone wants extra
but nobody loves to be extra
long guarantee
high bonus
'buy 1 get 2' price
everyone wants extra
but nobody loves to be extra
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's not how much you do, it's how often you do it. It simply doesn't matter if you make some monumental effort at any given time. You have it in your to give that extra little bit. You know that you could add that finishing touch. You know you can take that extra step.
quote by Marilyn Moats Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extras
THE CROCUSES in the Square
Lend a winsome touch to the May;
The clouds are vanished away,
The weather is bland and fair;
Now peace seems everywhere.
Hark to the raucous, sullen cries:
“Extra! extra!”—tersely flies
The news, and a great hope mounts, or dies.
About the bulletin-boards
Dark knots of people surge;
Strained faces show, then merge
In the inconspicuous hordes
That yet are the Nation’s lords.
“Extra! extra! Big fight at sea!”
Was the luck with us? Is it victory?
Dear God, they died for you and me!
Meanwhile the crocuses down the street
With heaven’s own patience are calm and sweet.
poem by Richard Francis Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Days No Poem Can Be Written
THERE ARE DAYS NO POEM CAN BE WRITTEN
There are days no poem can be written
Grief and worry frighten the poem away
Yet the poem lives hidden
For our darkest moments our loneliest fears
Too need their poetry.
Poetry is a way of saying all we need to say
It is our deepest feeling most deeply expressed
It is all we are
The whole of our being
In words.
When a poet dies
Words die
When I will die
All I am will no longer be able to write
One more poem.
How afraid I am in the night
And how dark in the early morning before I rise
But now that I am here
Writing this
A bit of hope begins in me
And I can dream that
When I walk out the door
a few minutes from now
A new day will begin.
How many days I have left
How many poems to write
I do not know.
It is not light yet
And the darkness is still here
But I will feel the morning again
This morning
Thank G-d
You have given me so many poems.
A few small words
help me believe
I truly am alive.
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Was A Poem Long Ago
THERE WAS A POEM LONG AGO
There was a poem long ago
A poem of youth and hope
Now there are other poems
Poems of age and sorrow.
There was a poem once
Of love – and happiness in love
Now there is a poem of lovelessness
And sadness.
There was a poem once
Of the long and distant open road
Now there is a poem of the dead end.
There was a poem once
That believed in Poetry
Now there is a poem that knows
Even the most beautiful worlds of words
End in dust
There was a poem once – long ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Should I Write?
What subject can I write a poem on?
I can’t attack a person dead or alive.
I cannot touch a sect or a region.
I can’t write one’s extra marital affair.
I am permitted to write of a girl’s love.
Her beauty and her romantic deeds,
Like of which abound everywhere.
Should I write a poem at all?
17.09.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This World Of Infinite Words
IN THIS WORLD OF INFINITE WORDS
In this world of infinite words
So many poems have already been written,
Infinite poems in infinite words-
Therefore any new poem simply seems to cry out its own non- necessity-
Yet in a word in a voice
A whole world can be born and transformed-
A new poem a real poem
Can make us forget all the others
And make all the others live through it-
Yet who in this world of infinite words
Can write this poem?
And when will the next set of strangers names come
To show me that my words are nothing?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Alive
The Hollies
I'm Alive
(Clint Ballard Jr)
Single release 1965
Dup-dururu-dup-durururu
rup-dururu-dup-durururu
Did you ever see a man with no heart
Baby, that was me
Just a lonely, lonely man with no heart
Until you set me free
Now I can breathe, I can see, I can touch, I can feel
I can taste all the sugar sweetness in your kiss
You give me all the things I've ever missed
I've never felt like this
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive
I used to think I was livin'
Baby, I was wrong
No I never knew a thing about livin'
'Till you came along
Now I can breathe, I can see, I can touch, I can feel
I can taste all the sugar sweetness in your kiss
You give me all the things I've ever missed
I've never felt like this
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive
{Interlude}
Now I can breathe, I can see, I can touch, I can feel
I can taste all the sugar sweetness in your kiss
You give me all the love I've ever missed
I've never felt like this
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive,
I'm alive- I'm alive
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Poem For Me Today
THERE IS NO POEM FOR ME TODAY
There is no poem for me today
There is no poem of yesterday
The poems have gone
And far away
There is no poem
For another day.
There never will be another poem
Poems are gone
Poems are stone.
All the words I will ever write
Are not enough
For a Poem of Life.
The Poems are not
They will never be
I am not a Poem
Nor Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All These Poems About Poems
All these poems about poems
Where do they lead?
The world is so rich in so many other things
Write poems about them.
At twilight I look out
At strangers walking
To do their errands of preparation
for Sukkot.
A poem should have some Beauty in it
And not just be an effort at recording observations-
The scarlet bright flowers rage at me from the distance
I cannot translate their Beauty to words -
There is so much I have seen
And so much I will never write –
And so many Poems beyond my Imagination.
All these poems about my failing at poetry
And about translating the Beauty of the world to words-
This is a poem I not know how to properly finish.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been
THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN
The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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