Art and Asylum
Desultory roses with ancient thorns
Ramadan guns
Violet time machines
Pompeii baths
Words with Shakespeare
Define your blissful captivity
These Egyptian queens of deceit
She idealizes a fragment
Sounds of rain
Sounds of forests
Rivers
Was Tennessee Williams mad?
Narcissism jolts my star
Poetry a garden
Volatile between the faces
Art is asylum
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Related quotes
Poetry is here
Please come
And come and see
Poetry is here
And without you
It will go nowhere.
Please come
And come and hear
Poetry sounds like cloud
Poetry sounds like
Dashing of air in stone
Poetry sounds question
Whose answer is everywhere.
Please come
And come and feel
Feeling is poetry
It is like the time
And time is no more
With anybody you know.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tennessee Moon
Written by: neil diamond & dennis morgan
Hollywood dont do what it once could do
I used to wake up and write me a song before noon
So I packed my dusty bags one night
Grabbed an old guitar and I caught a red eye(? ) flight
In search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
Makes me wonder, is it the same moon hank played under
Touched down and she stole my heart right away
Began to think for the first time I might stay
And when I heard that lonesome whistle moan
Knew Id finally found my way back home
In search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
And I wonder, is it the same moon hank stood under
When he sang about jambalaya and being lonesome enough to cry
And I can hear the echos in the sounds of his guitar
And his words still paint a picture in my heart
Yeah, in search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
I was in search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
Yes, I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Children
We were the war children
Born 1945
When all the soldiers came marching home
Love looks in their eye
Tennessee tennessee williams
Let your inspiration flow
Let it be around when we hear the sound
When the spring time rivers flow when the rivers flow
Rod steiger and marlon brando
Standing with their heads bowed on the side
Crying like a baby thinking about the time
James dean took that fatal ride, took that ride
Tennessee tennessee tennessee tennessee williams
Let your inspiration go
Will you be around to hear the sound
When the spring time rivers flow, rivers flow
And steiger and marlon brando
Standing with their heads bowed on the side
Crying like a baby thinking about the time
James dean took that fatal ride, took that ride
And we were the wild children
Back in 1945
When all the soldiers came marching home
Love looks in their eyes, in their eyes
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We, The Quantities...
they shall search for one
for only one
and take pride in it
as treasure of a
lifetime
i am not that one
for i belong to the many
those series of
words like trains like
ordinary public commutations
boring whirring sounds
others call it pollution of
traffic sounds in the city
i am not the one
i am the many and no one loves this kind
the faces of themselves that
they hate
in the quantity
the ordinary foulness
that's left in the canals where dead rats
lie
those that they avoid
reminding them of their own
lousy selves
the ordinary air that everyone breathes
and yet have
taken for granted
for air is quantity like the sea and the oceans
they are not the one
they are the many
the masses, the crowd, the ants and
beehives and
the pebbles of the rivers
whose faces are all the same
not one unique
for the altar of fame
we are all in these
the quantity....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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“Sweet Sounds of Joy”
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear sweet sounds
Of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear momma sing
In her morning voice
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to be in the presence
Of these sounds of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love sweet sounds of joy
poem by Va Rockeya Foy
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A Rose Amidst the thorns
Roses in profusion
bloomed along our garden wall.
They were both red and yellow-
tea hybrids, I recall.
There were thorns too,
as I well knew,
standing guard among the blooms.
A careless creature soon would learn
to give the rose wide berth
An agony of thorns awaits
the careless of the earth.
Yet thorns permit the bees to come
and pollen to transpose.
and, if careful, they'll admit
my own scent seeking nose
I think thorns serve their purpose well
else roses would be trampled
The thorns are roses' guardians
and not inconsequential.
Without a thorn, the rose, forlorn,
is destined for the ashes.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Tennessee Border
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by jimmy work
Her [g] eyes were blue, her hair was [d7] auburn
Her smile was like an angel [g] fair
She was her daddys only [d7] daughter
On the tennessee [g] border [g7]
Chorus
One [c] night I took a ride just across the [g] line
I [a7] picked her up in a pickup truck
And she [d] broke this heart of [d7] mine
Her [g] mama said: no-o, [d7] shes my only daughter,
But we got married on the tennessee [g] border.
The roses were bloomin [d7] there on the border
The moon was shinin [g] there
Her personality made me [d7] want her
On the tennessee [g] border.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words of the Ancient Future
Plumes of purple glowing words
On my wall on my aqua soul
Escaping the grief wars
Sailing the constraints of time
Poised with arrows of premonition
Released in pools of prophecy
Unconscious wine of mystic energy
Great craters in the mountain rain
Islands lush with forests of crystal
Rest in the radiant rivers
Graze like emerald seagulls
Flames along the coast
Words sigh in the tide
Soul words of the ghost world
She loves me with words
Walls with vines of summer words
Fractals of dawns rising king
Banyan Buddha
Rivalry of knowledge reduced
Your words come from pain
Your dreams have no sea
On the outside of your plans
Cordial words like a pallbearer
Illumined equinox dials
Words of the crying
Words of music
Words of romance
Spiritual words
Hear the star fields speak
Words of moonlight
Words with lamps
Words of the ancient future
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Concrete Garden
I've got a garden in my yard
Outside my kitchen window
And the sounds that kiss my ears?
Not the wind rustling through plants
Not birds, singing as they plunder
Not the thud of hoe against soil
My garden grows in concrete
And the sounds that kiss my ears?
The shouts of laughter
The words of team spirit
The thud of basketball against pavement
That's the fruit of my toil
poem by Diana Holinski
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That Garde Of Stones....
on Wednesday afternoon
your visitors from different orientations arrived
all were well composed,
calm and at first very silent,
still feeling what is new
but not yet reacting,
you served coffee, others of course
from the East preferred tea
when all were feeling that sense of
home
you invited all of them from that room
towards another door
which exited to a garden which they in truth
did not expect
a garden of sand and stones and
then you make them all know
why they are all here and
when are they going to leave
what they have to see shall only for the moment
not lasting more than
the blinking of an eye
you can see the disappointment in their faces
all they imagine really are roses
red red roses
and without thorns....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0031 Miles Ahead
Do you ever get fed up
of playing music
that sounds like music?
asked Miles Davis
so I'm asking you
do you ever get fed up
of writing poetry
that sounds like poetry?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Oh These Poets And Their Sounds
OH THESE POETS AND THEIR SOUNDS
Oh these poets and their sounds
Their distant rhythms
Which take your soul away-
Oh these poets and their sounds
And the longing to be
One of them-
Oh this poet
And all his cry of loneliness-
Oh these poets and their sounds,
And he in his own small voice
Crying out lonely words
Before his own lonely page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Has A Music Of Its Own
THE POEM HAS A MUSIC OF ITS OWN
The poem has a music of its own
Without the music
It is no poetry.
My music
Faltering breaking slow
Wonders where it is going
And if it really sounds
As music should sound.
Once it was more easy to feel
The melody in me real.
Now I just do not know
So many sounds
So many words
So many claims of poetry.
Music music music
Where are you?
The sound from myself
Is only 'me' now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Thoughts of Rain
Thoughts of rain
And kings of old
Queens all gone
They fade away
Like shooting stars
And others calling ‘Don’t jump! ’
But I did
I’ll take the free fall
I’m taking the chance that no one will be there to catch me
And while I fall I think
Beautiful, wonderful thoughts of rain
And pretty things
The ones that weren’t smashed in the fight
The things that fell and didn’t jump
But I did
Free falling
A long way down
What happened to the zebra?
Stripes all faded off
What happened to the giraffe?
Spots all jumped away
Like me
Thinking thoughts of rain while falling
And sweet mangoes
And rye
Thoughts of forests
Willow forests
Rain forests
Oceans of knowledge
Of which each of us has but a teaspoon of
Seas of thought
Rivers of philosophy
Thoughts of rain
Rain pattering down
Smelling sweet
Life so perfect
So wonderful
Like rain
Dark stormy days filled with lightning
Sunny days filled with rainbows
Thoughts of rain
Spiral bound
And falling down
And thick soft wool to cushion the blow
Thinking thoughts of rain.
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
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Also in Norah Jones, now there's a voice that sounds and I don't mean disrespect but sounds a hundred years old that sounds incredibly experienced. It's just an exciting time.
quote by Gerry Beckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Laughter
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
I don't hear it that often.
Even when I do, it's quickly silenced,
usually by someone to afraid to let their guard down.
It sounds like running through the rain,
hands locked with friends that embrace who you are.
The friends that see through the stranger
that sometimes takes your place.
They don't even realize he's there
because truthfully,
he's not.
It sounds like tripping down memory lane,
reminiscing and smiling at awkward photos.
It sounds like talking to an old mentor that hasn't changed.
You show up on their doorstep two years late for class
and they still welcome you in.
It sounds like hot soup eaten in cold clothes;
sipping hot chocolate while watching
video tapes of an old friendship.
You smile and laugh,
because it was there and you had forgotten it existed.
Soon everyone's laughing because it was
and it is.
Then you realize
it always will be.
Huh
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
poem by Cary Kelly
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Execute The Sounds
I'm on a mad style
Underground, we come cool and deadly
With that natural sound
It make you feel so free, you no turn it down
Vibe 6-19 from the Southtown
And Jah know, what I and I wanna do
Because Jah know, I am man stay true
You know Jah know, the real who is who
Ain't no time to fake it, make ya feel brand new
It goes 1,2,3. The crew is called P.O.D.
And if you wanna go to the tip top
Break it down, with that one drop - Whyoo
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Now why mess me, try to take his crown.
Babylon test me, we gonna smash em down
Original O.G. this is my playground
Don't take me seriously, you gonna feel it now
I man, you know the harder they come
Because I man, I'm gonna get the job done
You know I man, no they don't want none
Me never have to cheat cause me already won.
19'04, home to the real hardcore.
And you don't wanna sleep, don't talk
I'll break you down with that one drop - Whyoo
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pompeii
Rest on shores with lost Pompeii
Molten red silk disguises ideology
Control the mother of serpents
Burgundy tapestry covers conceit
All the vacant look on the war
Rattlesnake quills
Under the lava feel broken shackles
Some fly like angel men
Some are crushed in themselves
Public baths serenade slave ships
Hot dusky cells of bi-polar chains
Resident split of matter and soul
Screams as silent as patricide
Incest where glass eyes stare
Covered in lava like living strife
Casts of hot thermo dynamics
Like Camus silent universe
Purple cloaks amidst the emaciated
Vesuvius has no roses
Pompeii burns like an entombed pharaoh
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Shakespeare Wrote A Poetry
SHAKESPEARE WROTE A POETRY
Once upon a time
Long before I read
Shakespeare wrote a poetry
No one shall see
The like of again.
We small soundmaking fools
Utter our deepest utterances
As if they were the stars-
But the stars the true stars
What Shakespeare wrote and knew
We cannot touch
Or come near
Not even in our greatest words unseen.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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