Courbe Bête ou Courbette?
I'm
sublime
chime
rhyme
climb
Prim e
Time
dime
grime
slime
13 April 2005 robi3_1200_robi3_0000 QWX_DJZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I'm sublime chime rhyme,
climb from and to nothingness,
prime-time grime, slime diem
haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 April 2005)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song: On Borrowed Time
We're all living on borrowed time,
Near the brooding sea and brine.
And we grow our primate's spine,
In every clime.
Since we crawled out from 'neath the grime,
And evolved to a species – prime.
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.
On borrowed time. We feed and dine.
On borrowed time. In swill like swine.
On borrowed time. We sup our wine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
On borrowed time. In slow decline.
On borrowed time. No season shines.
On borrowed time. No reason rhymes.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
We're all living on borrowed time,
Acting out our roles in mime,
As if you cannot tell that I'm confused.
We're all living on borrowed time,
And we're captured hook and line.
Enraptured lives entwine as minds unloose.
On borrowed time, by frantic chime,
Of doomsday clocks and scam sub-prime.
On borrowed time, we count the dime.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
From that day of Eve's droll crime,
When dull Adam su*ked the lime,
We've been living on borrowed time,
On borrowed time.
On borrowed time. By dread defined.
On borrowed time. Knee-deep in slime.
On borrowed time. We moan and whine.
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
On borrowed time. To heights sublime.
On borrowed time. Statistics climb.
On borrowed time. Who reads the signs?
On borrowed time. On borrowed time!
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Decades
By this time
She will be awake
As her clock would always chime
Missing breakfast that I make
She'll be crying
By this time
She unlocks the door
Sees my goodbye note in rhyme
And she throws it on the floor
She'll be crying
By this time
She walks by the well
Where we used to throw some dime
Wishing what we would not tell
She'll be crying
By this time
She waters the rose
Careful not to splash the grime
She'll recall the blooms I chose
She'll be crying
By this time
Laughter she will miss
Once, she play-acted as mime
Whereby I gave her a kiss
She'll be crying
By this time
I have gone ten years
She is now way past her prime
With a baby that she bears
And I'm crying.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prospects
We have set out from here for the sublime
Pastures of summer shade and mountain stream;
I have no doubt we shall arrive on time.
Is all the green of that enameled prime
A snapshot recollection or a dream?
We have set out from here for the sublime
Without provisions, without one thin dime,
And yet, for all our clumsiness, I deem
It certain that we shall arrive on time.
No guidebook tells you if you'll have to climb
Or swim. However foolish we may seem,
We have set out from here for the sublime
And must get past the scene of an old crime
Before we falter and run out of steam,
Riddled by doubt that we'll arrive on time.
Yet even in winter a pale paradigm
Of birdsong utters its obsessive theme.
We have set out from here for the sublime;
I have no doubt we shall arrive on time.
poem by Anthony Evan Hecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Between Life's Smiles - 1055
Between life's [s]miles what truth is found
Exists both in and out of time,
The current flows, taps underground
Wells which fountain through soul's rhyme.
Empathy acts as enzyme
Enchanting: nor fixed object bound,
Nor line immutable, nor crime.
True pulses sometimes may astound,
Harmoniously tuned around
Eternal sustenance sublime.
Music keyed to silent sound:
Is free from crass judgemental grime,
Links two as metamorphosis
EStablishes shared oasis.
(16 January 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blood, Sweat and Tears
Think just think, of all the blood, sweat and tears
London has shed with the passing of years.
The dirt, dust and smog, the noise and the grime.
Poverty, slavery, squalor and crime.
Ambitions and hopes, mad schemings and fears,
Disease, depravity, vice, wines and beers,
Arts and culture can pass the test of time,
City of contrast from base to sublime.
Historical monuments, long endears,
Symbolize prestige of people and peers.
Noise of the traffic and church bells still chime,
Rags next to riches, cultures rise from slime.
Millions of people have lived, worked and died-
London remembers few only with pride.
poem by Susan Mary Robertson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Adored
I have loved a time.
I really adored my rhyme as one to climb.
My reality is such that time does not stand still, and chime.
This is mine.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rhyme
Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There was a girl who’d found a dime,
And thus the bells began to chime.
She brought herself some candy,
And thought that it was dandy.
She thought it was sublime.
quote by by Walterrean Salley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unlimited Reflections - 0848 - Current Version
Here follows an anthology to bring
enjoyment true, one world view versed in rhyme,
unlimited reflections over time
matured by mind whose searching soul would sing,
nursing ambitions empathy should string,
except most care not, - neither nickle, dime.
Listen to intuition's bells' strong chime
imprinting echo etched on soul, whose ring
may never fail, to nothing fade. Time's sting
outcast as shared experiences climb
up past extrapolations vague, masqued mime.
Just twenty six swift soldiers' ink link lines
recast lead die, redrawing causal signs.
(4 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An_thology - Acrostic Sonnet
Adjoined is an anthology to bring
New enjoyment, world-view versed in rhyme,
Natural reflections over time
Engendered by a mind whose soul would sing
A word or two to string in golden ring
Necklace bound by no known chain, whose chime
Never fails to tune a bell sublime.
Emotions, shared, reverberate. Time’s swing
At last is counterbalanced, and its sting
No longer palls as phrases fuse and climb
Now past all past experience, masqued mime: -
Enchanted insight’s flight on poet’s wing!
Just twenty six the soldiers are whose line
Rekindles hope for scope, draws from each sign.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lone Bone
and then when we arrive at the prime
after a hard climb only to find nothing but thyme
life tastes like lime and we begin to mime
what to us was all grime and slime
to our face the ill-winds are blown
and what remains is the clown
we feel now that a clone has grown
inside ourselves we find what we own
the seeds have been sown in the throne
of the stone where our lips are sewn
the moan is thrown
& now back to the lone bone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Curse Speakers/Writers
Your words deflect
Return to you
And shower devastation
You can expect
That these will do
Set forth all pronunciation
It will accomplish
All that grime
All wrong you ever wish
You speak your fate
In verbal slime
And fill your heart with hate.
Your words bear fruit
All that you say
In time they will grow root
You follow suit
With darkened days
And live in cursed loot
You dwell In profanity
And nullify the good
Cancelling prosperity
With evil as your food.
Copyright Cynthia Buhain Baello
April 1,2010
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spirit Spits Pits
[S]tale smoke,
Pale bloke,
I‘m broke,
Rum coke
In poke
Time’s joke …
So Croak!
13 April 2005 revised 28 March 2009 robi3_1201_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ
Previous title Cost of Dying – for previous version see below
Cost of Sin
Stale smoke,
I’m broke,
No joke.
13 April 2005 robi3_1201_robi3_0000 AWX_DJZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A poem with the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a dime
I will spend my ink and spend my time
Making the perfect rhyme
More than a million people may read it
Even if I have to sell it on credit
I will be the businesswoman with wit
Sit down! Think about it!
A penny for the perfect sentence
A penny for a poem glaring with essence
A penny for writing about the present and past tense
A penny for describing a situation that is intense
A penny if I write truthfully without pretence
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a pound
I will turn my life around
As I compose the perfect poetic sound
That rhymes against any background
My words will be sublime
Not just the perfect rhyme
They will be read both at teatime and during bedtime
My sentences will mature in their prime with time
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Perfect Crime
Yeah!
You have to climb, for every dime,
You have to fight, work over-time,
And still get out in time, to commit,
The perfect crime.
And you know the drill, or soon you will,
Your dressed to kill, look like a mill, yeah,
Addicted to the thrill, to design,
The perfect crime.
Got your balls on the grill, honey[!],
Sometimes you win, sometimes you loose - this is fun.
You have to climb, for every dime,
You have to fight...
The perfect crime, [sing with me honey],
And still get out in time, to commit,
The perfect crime!
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Good People
How true in all time, good people can’t see
How true and sublime, their good could just be
How true in life’s grime, good people agree
How true with their chime, they sing of happy
This thank you decrees, to holding the keys
Of thanking with pleas, to hug good with ease
Good people make haste, to help and befriend
Good people are placed, with help that they lend
Good people won’t waste, the love that they tend
Good people are faced, with love to defend
This thank you extends, where it knows no ends
Of thanking my friends, where help and love blends
poem by Paul Moosberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Many Muddied Sluggers Live With Something To Prove
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Many mud sluggers thowing sludge,
Don't think they're slime backs...
Sliming back.
Those mud sluggers throwing sludge,
Don't think they're slime backs...
Sliming back.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back,
On backs.
Those mud sluggers throwing sludge...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back!
And many muddied sluggers live with something to prove...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back.
Mud sluggers living lives with nothing else to do...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back,
On other backs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life
Life is the sun in the day time.
Life is the beautiful chime.
Life is the moon and the stars at night.
Life is the birds flight.
Life is the mountains you climb.
Life is to share the last dime.
Life is a tale, a big surprise.
All around look so nice!
But if you see life in different way
With only dirt and violence
And you don’t hear the silence,
Life for you is a grim and an evil,
It looks you are paired with devil.
You pecked him on the bait,
With his help your life you create.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 3rd of March,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Polish Flowers
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.
poem by Julian Tuwim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!