Going to School
What shall I teach in the vivid afternoon
With the sun warming the blackboard and a slip
Of cloud catching my eye?
Only the cones and sections of the moon.
Out of some flaking page of scholarship,
Only some foolish heresy
To counteract the authority of prose.
The ink runs freely and the dry chalk flows
Into the silent night of seven slates
Where I create the universe as if
It grew out of some old rabbinic glyph
Or hung upon the necessity of Yeats.
O dry imaginations, drink this dust
That grays the room and powders my coat sleeve,
For in this shaft of light
I dance upon the intellectual crust
Of our own age and hold this make-believe
Like holy-work before your sight.
This is the list of books that time has burned,
These are the lines that only poets have learned,
The frame of dreams, the symbols that dilate;
Yet when I turn from this dark exercise
I meet your bright and world-considering eyes
That build and build and never can create.
poem by Karl Shapiro
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Related quotes
To Be Or Not To Be
To be or not to be,
To learn or not to learn,
To obey or not to obey,
To teach or not to teach,
To work or not to work,
To cook or not to cook,
To write or not to write,
To play or not to play,
To move or not to move,
To pray or not to pray,
To ride or not to ride,
To build or not to build,
To plant or not to plant,
To draw or not to draw,
To eat or not to eat,
To drink or not to drink,
To paint or not to paint,
To sing or not to sing,
To preach or not to preach,
To think or not to think,
To create or not to create,
To dance or not to dance,
And like the muse of love in the land of peace;
But, it is a matter of, to be or not to be.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Masters Of War
Bob Dylan - "30th Anniversary Tribute")
Come you masters of war, you that build all the guns
You that build the death place, you that build all the guns
You that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks
I just want you to know, I can see through your masks
You that never done nothing, but to build and destroy
You play with my world, like its your little toy
You put a drug in my head, then you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run following the fast foolish lie
Like Judas of old, you lie and deceive
A world war can be won, and you want me to believe
But I see through your eyes, and I see through your brain
Like I see through the water that runs down my drain
You that fasten all the triggers, for the others to fire
Then you sit back and watch, while the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion, while young people's blood
Flows out their bodies and is buried in the mud
You've thrown the worst fear, that could ever be hurled
The fear to bring children, into this world
For threatenin' my baby, unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood that runs in your veins
How much do I know, to talk out of turn?
You might say that I'm young, you might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know, though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question, is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?
Oh, I think you will find, when your death takes its toll
All the money you made will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die, and your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket, in the pale afternoon
And I'll watch as your lowered, into your deathbed
And I'll stand on your grave till I'm sure that your dead
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cloak, The Boat, And The Shoes
'WHAT do you make so fair and bright?'
'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.'
'What do you build with sails for flight?'
'I build a boat for Sorrow:
O swift on the seas all day and night
Saileth the rover Sorrow,
All day and night.'
What do you weave with wool so white?'
'I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
Soundless shall be the footfall light
In all men's ears of Sorrow,
Sudden and light.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Cloak, The Boat And The Shoes
'What do you make so fair and bright?'
'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.'
'What do you build with sails for flight?'
'I build a boat for Sorrow:
O swift on the seas all day and night
Saileth the rover Sorrow,
All day and night.'
What do you weave with wool so white?'
'I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
Soundless shall be the footfall light
In all men's ears of Sorrow,
Sudden and light.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Dancing on Starlight
The magnificent watchers
In the sky
Pure white
Like angels
Heavenly angels watching
As we gaze
As we wonder at the awesomeness
The vastness
We create
We create dreams
Love
Hope
Dreams of love
Love of hope
Hope that dreams come true
The benevolent orb
So bright
So serene
Guarding the watchers
The watchers that protect us
Our guardians
As we gaze
As we wonder at our guardians
Our protectors
We create
We create dreams
Love
Hope
Dreams of love
Love of hope
Hope that the dreams come true
If only we could dance
Dance upon the starlight
Dance among our keepers
This would surely be bliss
As we create
We create our dreams
Of love
And hope
Dreaming of love
Loving hope
Hoping that dreams come true
You create
You fill my dreams
With love
With hope
I dream of your love
Love the hope you give
And wish my dreams to reality
poem by Tristan Maverick
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Doppelganger
Miss Damson
was a doppelganger
for Bette Davis
right down
to the look
and eyes
and swagger
into the classroom
to teach
and it was said
that sometimes
she‘d go into
the cupboard
and have a drag
on a smoke
and if any kid
spoke out of turn
she’d give a stare
to make his or her soul
seemingly burn
but you saw
the way she could bring
silence to a room
when she entered
or bring a shudder
of fear
into the hearts
of the classroom braggers
and when she drew chalk
across the blackboard
it’d set teeth on edge
or threw chalk
or the blackboard wiper
at any kid stupid
or brave enough
to open their mouths
and the way she wrote
upon the board
her back to the class
that firm ass
and with that neat script
her fingers tight
around the chalk
as if around
the throat of any kid
who dared to talk
and you
she’d say
you at the back
you with the dumb look
don’t stare
out of the window
open the darn book
or hey you
girl with the bangs
don’t sit there
with your mouth open
or you’ll catch flies
and there’d be
an underground snigger
from others
or just dumb looks
anywhere
but at Miss Damson
even stuck between
pages of boring books.
poem by Terry Collett
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Masters Of War
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like its your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young peoples blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
Youve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You aint worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that Im young
You might say Im unlearned
But theres one thing I know
Though Im younger than you
Even jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your deathll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And Ill watch while youre lowered
Down to your deathbed
And Ill stand oer your grave
til Im sure that youre dead
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nest In My Bed
Enough books to create
ambiance in my room -
build a nest in my bed,
anxiety requires travel
between quotes I love
Can't spend three days in
spearmint only, need some
chocolate, meat & veggies
also, books in all flavours,
teddies and my paper-doll
Vivid Verse, Soul Music by
Pratchett, Agatha Christie -
tie down my mind at night &
for the trip by bus, a juvenile
Horror High - Killer Instinct
To combat all fear - Feet of
Clay - should speeches be
too menacing, words can
change mental states -
I feel secure
In preternatural spheres, no
emotional upset - books are
survival, nourishment and
divine help all in one
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Love Poets
The love poets sit and write psalms or
songs with the extension of their palms
they sit and wait untill they catch a glimpse of you
Because girls like you are the inspiration
The poet is dying to find a way to re-create your beauty
but what we create can only do so much as to aleviate
The stress that builds on our chest,
I feel it everytime i sit beside you
I jot down lyrics each time i sight you
and if i could slip you this kiss you
could circle yes, no or maybe, despite who might see
Your the inspiration that keeps me writing without end
You make me wish i had and unlimited amount of ink in this pen
because each time i write a poem, and you that its about
I start describing why i love you, and the ink in my pen just runs out
You could say im a love poet, but what
would these be without you.
Every syllable, line, metaphor is completely about you
Just, dig through the meaning
I hope you start to understand what my feelings are
Because when i write poetry, i feel this bar set by you and i cant reach
I want to incorporate your beauty into my poems, please teach
since this lesson would take much longer than 1 session
I cant wait for you and i to continue this progression
poem by Jason Murak
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Be
Written by: neil diamond
Lost
On a painted sky
Where the clouds are hung
For the poets eye
You may find him
If you may find him
There
On a distant shore
By the wings of dreams
Through an open door
You may know him
If you may
Be
As a page that aches for words
Which speaks on a theme thats timeless
While the sun God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the one God will make for your way
And we dance
To a whispered voice
Overheard by the sould
Undertook by the heart
And you may know it
If you may know it
While the sand
Would become the stone
Which begat the spark
Turned to living bone
Holy, holy
Sanctus, sanctus
Be
As a page that aches for word
Which speaks on a theme that is timeless
While the sun God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the one God will make for your day
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aura
The air was dark
The moon was dark
The night was dark
The cloud was dark
The heat was dark
The stars were black
The birds were black
The eyes were black
The shadows were black
The planes were black
A sound of night
The hearts of night
A chase at night
A fall at night
No help at night
The night is night
Where is my sight
I have no sight
Your light was sight
No light no sight
No one in sight
The dark in sight
Don't call my name
What's my name
They call my name
That's not my name
Who said its my name
I have no name
You took my same
It was our same
She was our same
She's now your same
Its all the same
I'm not the same
Judas and my hand
You took my hand
'I do' my hand
You kissed my hand
You broke my hand
You fell my hand
A tear in sand
A heart in sand
A body in sand
Alone in sand
A dust in sand
At home in sand.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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The Cities Of White Men
Those men build many houses:
They dig the earth, and they build;
They cut down the trees, and they build;
They work always - building.
From the elevation of the mountainside
I behold the clouds:
The clouds build many beautiful houses in the sky:
They build, and they tear down;
They build, and they dissolve. . . .
The cities of white men,
They are not beautiful like the cloud cities;
They are not vast, like the cloud cities. . . .
A wind-swept teepee
Is all the house I own. . .
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Imaginations Real
Voices across all the nation,
Echo in my mind.
In the streets,
In the factories,
In the towns.
Living out what imagination made real.
Got to leave the old world behind,
Use a fantasy,
Imagination is real.
Chorus
Im so much in love,
I cant explain,
Imaginations real.
Build your dreams,
And make them strong,
Lmaginations real.
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real.
No solution,
Hatred,
Fear of whats to come.
Dont cry,
Cant you feel it inside,
Cant you see its the only way it can be.
For our past has left us alone,
With a cold reality,
Imagination made real.
Chorus
If you use a dream
To change a mind,
Then imaginations real.
Think with your heart,
And you will see,
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real,
Imaginations real.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Of Ireland
'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity,
Come dance with me in Ireland.'
One man, one man alone
In that outlandish gear,
One solitary man
Of all that rambled there
Had turned his stately head.
That is a long way off,
And time runs on,' he said,
'And the night grows rough.'
'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
'The fiddlers are all thumbs,
Or the fiddle-string accursed,
The drums and the kettledrums
And the trumpets all are burst,
And the trombone,' cried he,
'The trumpet and trombone,'
And cocked a malicious eye,
'But time runs on, runs on.'
I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
"Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Singular Duality for M lay Catrina
The moon against the blue black night
A symbol of serenity
Bathes the world with silver light
a touch of surreality.
Far different to the world by day
which has no time for fantasy
The boring hum drum everyday
view of the world that most folks see.
The moonlight stimulates our dreams.
The interplay of light and shade
where nothing is quite as it seems.
The stuff of which all dreams are made.
The silver moon light can create
a moving tapestry of dreams
Produce in us a trance like state
and blend together without seams
reality and fantasy
Two worlds existing side by side
the moon somehow mysteriously
their difference can override.
I seize each opportunity
to see the shadows as they dance.
The moonlit night providing me
the time and place and circumstance.
26/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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What It Is Really?
somewhere our words take us
beyond
somehow we write because we
must rise
some build ships
some of us have to create an ocean to make these ships sail
some of us must know each feather to make us wings
some of us must assure that we too can fly
for we are part of this lonely planet looking for a cure
of humanity's universal sickness
this emptiness that no one feels
if i must, if need be, we too have to create God to create us
it is said He created us in His own image
and we who are lonely and fearful must accept and simply believe
we pay nothing for this
we only have an imagination
some of us has to settle in that bottom of faith
some floors must hold us as we float in space and need to land
we create floors we recreate the meaning of floating and settling
we are tired and what we need most is this peace
the calmness of everything is our dream
somewhere somehow we are and so we keep on writing
some of us has to imagine that we are at rest
some mock us because we seem to be always in motion
eternity, infinity, this somehow this somewhere
always taking us away from us
somehow somewhere we think we understand
we grope we feel and yet we are unable to hold any
and so we keep on saying and saying and saying
but what it is really? what it is really?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Artist Dreaming
Close your eyes baby
Off to sleep.
Find your soul
In God’s arms to keep
Dream your dreams
In your eyes
There's a glow
See your dreams
Live your Dreams
Now you know
See them come alive
Watch them dance
Through your eyes
Dream your Dreams
Coming now into focus
Dream your dream of art
Dreams with passion to create
Never waking from its light
Lift your head
Never lay it down
Create your dreams
Paint it, live it, embrace it
Dream what you are
Dream it true
Tonight the dreams are all for you
poem by Jara Son of Ahaz
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With the smell of turpentine
With the smell of turpentine
and paint in front of the fireplace
you paint magical lines
with blue, green and gold
and I look at you
while brush strokes
like magic make abstract images appear.
The Creator must have looked like this
while He looked at the world
while building it
and I see your golden eyes
looking carefully at the painting
and at times you frown
while you try to draw perfect lines
and light and colour
create magical feelings
and flow into each other
and you build shade and depth.
Gasping for breath lovely are you
while your fingers play with the brush
and there are more than curves and lines
from which your beauty comes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Lifes Pressures
so many tears i cry
and no one to dry my eyes.
so much pain that i go through
and i don't know what to do.
lifes pressures are getting to me.
is this the way it's meant to be?
so many people with cold hearts.
of this - i must be a part?
peer pressure, work pressure
money problems all around
and no answers to be found.
so i decided to turn to me
and to set myself free.
what is it that i believe in most
the answer was- THE FATHER, THE SON, THE HOLY GHOST.
so to my LORD i gave him my problems
and his words i will follow.
HE gave me a simple rule
and that i must use this tool.
resolve the problems one at a time
and you'll see that you'll be fine.
i did not build the universe all in one day
i took my time, and did not stray.
you must do the same as me
for your mind to be clear and free.
so i lined up my worries in a list
just so that i would not miss
all the things that bothered me
and this list was the key
to unlock all those doors that
stood in my way, if i did it day by day.
poem by Louis Rams
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A try to create
We always try to create something new
We make big thrust on energy to renew
It is strange that you may come across with few
The successful person may always make some changes and review
Generally we don’t follow unusual path
we brush in the morning and take
Morning tea is served on the side of bed
we will not term it good or bad
The person should have some good habits
He must offer prayers in the morning little bit
Offer hello to everybody with good morning
Day will definitely pass with bright shining
Existence is at stake and we simply undermine
We pay no attention and don’t try to refine
Nothing can work smoothly if we don’t attempt
The action has to be there very firm and prompt
It is good quality to rise early before sunshine,
it will be equally good if resort to brisk walking in the meantime
Subsequent Inhaling of fresh air with deep breathing
Meditation, if possible, with eyes closing
Set your task before you start
Dress up well to look even smart
Bear little smile on beautiful face
You stand to win half way race
Courteous call with mild approach
For that you need no special coach
Sweet words with eloquent speech
Goal which you desire is likely to reach
Precisely putting words and thoughts across
Avoid unpleasant words and never cross
Limit to self in restricted area
Firmly establish with strong plea
Honest dealing with simple way
Determined approach with authentic say
Makes you to earn nice position
Well behaved manner may serve good composition
Lions don’t need path finder
They roam and find without glider
We must build and create of our own
The success may follow with journey to go on
God has created many wonders
We can’t create cloud like thunders
We may not be able to create moon and star
We can definitely search for secrets and go very far
We create new world to live in
There is every possibility to succeed and failure chances very thin
Why to create hatred and disorder for no gain? >
Why to resort to steps which give us only pain?
It may help to build new order if genuinely pursued
We may be able to survive if persons are rescued
It is definitely a step forward if little care is taken
There will be nose dive effect if we are slightly mistaken
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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