In a garden that's imagined
Hold your tongue
Before you speak
Listen for sighs
Then continue to repeat
Trade the rage
For the pen
By spilling words into a fountain
Rippling rich cascading language
With a resonance sheathed in beauty
Conceived from our perceptions
To struggle against the universal
To ferment your own salvation
Which echoes lost our Dionysius
In a garden that imagined
poem by Kevin Patrick
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Related quotes
Different Languages
On the factory floor
Two ethnic women speak
In their native tongue
A language that flows beautifully
Their tongues roll
And the impact of a d or a t can be felt
Amongst all their chatter
The women laugh
That’s when others start to look
The sound of the language
May not be to everyone’s delight
No one cares what they say
Then all of a sudden......
LAUGHTER
And everyone starts to look with fright
What are they laughing at?
Is it me is it her is it him
Looking around
What did I do wrong?
Did I forget something?
Is it my zipper?
The women continue to chat
And laugh
The laughter now becoming too much
For the annoyed man
Of only one language
He goes to the boss
And files a complaint
Please boss tell those women over there
That it is not right to speak in their tongue
The boss agrees
And we are all back to uncultured boredom
As the sound of the
Lovely t and d end
So reigns the simple sounds of
A language that doesn’t flow
And the machines
That continue to sew
poem by James Dylan
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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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In a sense, words are encyclopedias of ignorance because they freeze perceptions at one moment in history and then insist we continue to use these frozen perceptions when we should be doing better.
quote by Edward de Bono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How I love your Voice
How I love to hear you speak and call my name
The way your lips, tongue, and mouth forms letters and words
Those sensual overtones that utter sweet sounds that resonate in my ears
How I love to hear you speak
Your articulation brings forth joy and laughter to my soul
Your words are like music set to a melody sang by angels
It is like the birds summoning me to paradise
Your subtle amplitude drives me while at ever utterance
I beg you to continue speaking to me for I have never heard a sweeter tone
Your audible vibrations are like a musical instrument playing lullabies to my soul
Your voice reminds me of being a child being rocked to sleep
Speak to me in those warm tones of elegance that only you possess
How I love to here your voice in all its magnitude
It comforts me on my lonely days of inner reflection
It brings me hope for a greater day
When I hear you regulate the tones I am in a trance
I am captivated by every sentence you speak
I listen to your words intently at its rhythm
It warms me on a cold day and cools me off in the heat
How I love just to hear you speak to me
I would give it all away just to hear your words
Such satisfying sounds swings me back and forth in a dizzy dance
I lose my footing every time you speak
It is not just your words but the beauty within that captivates me so
I save all your messages to hear plaid over and over again
They are melodious songs that bring forth the light of a new day
They are enchanting as you are in life
No words spoken could explain the grace and charm of your voice
Each time you speak I have died a thousand times
With each word I am sent heaven bound
Your voice takes me places only imagined in dreams
Paradise once lost is found in your voice
Let it be known that there is no other like you
I am compelled to a higher ground
Your expressions are like the wind in my sails that sets me free
I cannot place no other above you
Your voice is all I ever need to hear in life
Your ability to speak brings shivers up and down my spine
It has the greatest influence over my body
If I should ever fall and stricken deaf, your voice would remain reverberating in my heart
It would be the last sounds I would want to hear
Your name would be the last sound spoken from my lips
Your voice, how I love it so
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Language lost
My language lost
My identity lost.
Excuse me
I could not save my language.
I am forced to use foreign tongue
I am forced to shun all that are mine.
Excuse me
I could not save my language
I could not save my life
And I am not fine.
I want to talk in my mother tongue
I want to live in my home
I want to tell my Father to come and rescue.
My language lost
My identity lost.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Roses
roses speaks of love in a languege known only too the heart.Colour speak of beauty in a language known only too the rainbow.Beauty speak of sunshine in a language only known too nature.My heart speak of you in a language only known too my love.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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Art does not 'mean' anything
..or else conceived or imagined be
try as well hard a place to hide
from those insisting the meanings there are
the meanings there meanings be must at least
conceived or imagined be
so you want to know what a poem means
so you want to see that the art is sense
of x is y I take eye for an eye
for too often outwritten by art
I can say art does not 'mean' anything
because it's all
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Just As It Is...
it continues
as a flow of
what you think
you like
as true and
beautiful
you are lost
in the rage of
the waters
you take a hold
of another drifting
wood, very much
like you
letting things go
the rage in charge
and whatever happens
you say it is
just as it is
when the rage stops
when calm reigns again
you get hold of your mind
saying: it is not, it is not
it is perhaps like it
but definitely it is
not, and you
are in your senses again
throwing the one that looks like it
taking hold of what is real
and then denying yourself
of its beauty once again
sorrow plays the flute
in your silence
the hands open
accepts what is there
and letting it go again
it is not meant for you
you have something else
just as it is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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English Language
The English language it contains thousands of words
Which includes nouns, adjectives, constants and verbs
Structuring them together to create novels or speeches
So we can speak or read or listen while a teacher teaches
And of those thousands words that we have at our command
Some are the few words that decent people have banned
Sadly those few words most people use to swear and to curse
They are crude, coarse and obscene which are used alone or in a verse.
The English language contains thousands of words
Which equals to the stars in the sky or the multitude of birds
They are used in conversation and to define who we are
Words are the building blocks from a vast reservoir
But then we have those few words that are very crude
People use them to hurt or to insult and also to be lewd
Judge a book by its cover and the people by the words they use
When we speak, speak with caution and ponder and then be a muse.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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With Your Love
Won this day... to be standing here with you
There's no doubt... i know this love is true
See my tears... only you can understand
A state of grace... i feel blessed to hold your hand
There's a room in my heart and you've unlocked a door
That no one's ever opened before
Chorus:
With your love i'm not alone...
In your world... i'm never far away from home
A life i thought i'd never find...
In your eyes i see all that i am with your love
On my own... i searched for something more
In your arms... the kiss i've waited for
I was lost for words... to say what's in my heart
Just to be close ... to the beauty that you are
If someone could see to the end of our lives
I know they'd find me there by your side
Repeat chorus
I've walked among the lonely...
Watching lovers come and go
Fate finds us here as one... you are salvation to my soul
Repeat chours
With your love
With your love
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak
do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?
they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still
they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue
you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too
foolish!
but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves
despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god
how sad!
you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Delve Into The Depths Of Self
I take my pen
to the blank page
words amazingly
aching to be told
When I write
I undress myself
show myself
for who I am
I've inked my entity
I get multiple spasms on
universal concepts when I
Para-verse
I found a compound universe
at my letters core
I hold tight to
every syllable
created
Free verse
Lyric
Idiom
Meiosis
I see
poetry
endlessly
Ink we're carving mysterious shapes
like language landscapes
Twelve Gauge Pen
Ski Mask
Lyrical Assassination
Femme Font Fatale
Words push
and serge
forward
passion
silences
self control
while wild minds
whip matters
into submission
I spit metaphors
second language
lyrical correlation
rebel in my own right
artistic personification
I dream about lines
my world is dictionary
Expressing
myself
this way
on line therapy
session after session
even in my writes
I make my confession
I learned early to delve
into the depths
of self
the sultry
rhythm
of the space
in between
each pulse
where the ink
becomes reason
to be
when words
become breaths
to take steps
into wreck-less
abandon
See I wanna
spark weakness
in your being
when I speak
I wanna
create
a way to
salute
your every
sensory receptor
with poetic nectar
Let me
penetrate you
with my hard
prose
let my
tongue
speak
the language
of passion
to you
Thru
starved
lips
love is
emitted
thru its
depth
poem by Samantha Campbell
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Mother's Continue...
Through eternity Mother's continue......
her mother bare her
and mother's continue.....
WE all started out as some mother's baby boy or girl, except for Adam & Eve
mother's continue Adam & Even were created fully grown, that means God
was mother to them.
Mother's continue
babies are still being conceived
Mother's continue.......
Hey Mom I know you've been wounded by life
before
I know you've cried, worried and needed someone to hold you up, pray for you, you will continue....
I thought when you I saw you take you're last breathe Friday July 13,2007 I
would go too, you leaving was hard for me.
Lady Alice Carter I see you when Iook in the mirror
Mother's continue.....
poem by Sylvia Loven Carter
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I Wish
I wish I was a sparrow
with stick legs and onyx eyes
I'd sip the garden fountain
and I'd beat my arms to fly
I wish was the fountain
spilling water clear and clean
A place for them to land on
Oh, how happy I would be
I wish I was the water
pouring out into the bowl
For water is just water
and it has no tale of woe
I wish I was the score
of music water droplets make
for any of, or all above
are better than my fate
poem by Sara Fielder
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Speak To Me
Speak to me when you're feeling alone
Hurt or lost you're thrown
Speak to me when all else fails
And nobody seem to listen
Speak to me when I'm the one you trust
Speak to me I'm all ears
Have no fears
I'm listens
Don't hold back
I won't attack
poem by Raesheka Antwine
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Fountain of God's Grace
The water is there -
ever-flowing, bursting
singing, dripping, cascading…
The flow may be fast;
it maybe slow.
But the water is there
never emptied, never dried.
It flows to empty
and aching hearts.
It reaches out to
to the rich and mighty.
It embraces those
who are left with nothing
except the choice to come
closer to this fountain.
And yes, this fountain of God's grace
grants the water of hope, the water of life.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Half Finished No More
hands feverish aching to form
chords that resound
the rythym in my loins
born in the words I sing
half finished songs
conceived in mad frenzy
imploring me to complete or
abort this rush of thought
but the feelings remain
like cold puddles in the rain
splashing and rippling my insides
until the storm subsides
the bridge that ties
all the feelings that bind
repeating chorus and rising cresendo
to each alone the lyric is blind
cascading like a wave
crashing upon the shore
libido swirling like a violent eddy until
half finished no more
poem by keith Durante
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Listen To The Rain
(Rain)
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen listen
Listen to each drop of rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Whispering secrets in rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Frantically searching for someone to hear
That story be more than it hides
Please don't let go
Can't we stay for a while?
It's just to hard to say goodbye
Listen to the rain
Aa...ah
Listen listen listen listen listen listen to the rain
Weeping
Oo...ooh oooh ooh oo...ooh
Oo...ooh oooh oh oh
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen
I stand alone in the storm (listen listen)
Suddenly sweet words take hold
(Listen listen)
Hurry they stay for you haven't much time
Open your eyes to the love around you
You can feel youre alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain
oo...ooh oh oh oh oh
ooh ooh oh oh oooh
Listen
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prostye Dvizheniya
I continue simple moves
You continue my continuations
I am you, and you are me
I repeat, you repeat.
If you want -be silent,
Wait until it stops.
If you want keys,
2 turns around
If you want yours,
If you want somebody's,
If you want be like me
And I continue
Simple moves, I continue...
Simple moves..
We continue simple moves
Destroying irrigation.
Somewhere you find,
Somewhere you lose
I repeat, you repeat.
This is love,
Springs are jumping.
Tomorrow everyone
Can be smaller then snowflake.
We have to be on time
Not refusing.
We should be able
Continue to live.
Simple moves, continuing to live...
Simple moves...
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Simple moves...
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Plea
Writers of baseball, attention!
When you're again on the job-
When, in your rage for invention,
You with the language play hob-
Most of your dope we will pardon,
Though of the moth ball it smack;
But-cut out the 'sinister garden,'
Chop the 'initial sack.'
Rake poor old Roget's 'Thesaurus'
For phrases fantastic and queer;
And though on occasions you bore us,
We will refrain from a sneer.
We will endeavour to harden
Ourselves to the rest of your clack,
If you'll cut out the 'sinister garden'
And chop the 'initial sack.'
Singers of words that are scrambled,
Say, if you will, that he 'died,'
Write, if you must, that he 'ambled'-
We shall be last to deride.
But us to the Forest of Arden,
Along with the misanthrope Jaques,
If you cling to the 'sinister garden'
And stick to 'initial sack.'
Speak of the 'sphere's aberration,'
Mention the 'leathery globe,'
Say he got 'free transportation'-
Though that try the patience of Job.
But if you're wise you'll discard en-
Cumbrances such as we thwack-
Especially 'sinister garden'
And the 'initial sack.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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