Inspiration
Inspiration can't be seen.
I mean…you can only feel it.
Your wit won't help a bit
So that to convey the feelings,
To create a real art
That comes straight from the heart,
Like a holy writ recommit
God's gift and revelation.
How do I feel my inspiration?
It's not a certain motivation,
But only my emotions
And certain commotions.
Just the same in other words:
Inspiration is like birds or …
It is something very crazy,
Something very lazy,
Something weepy,
Something very sleepy,
Something very heavy
Or impossibly high.
This something
Becomes suddenly light,
Light as a cloud, and flies,
Flies, flies, flies, flies…
Up to the moment it dies.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of September,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Hail
the gloomy sky
all night cry
why, why, why?
because you died.
your life was
like the flies
flies, flies and dies.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Flies
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
Flies...
One more step and im falling off the mountain
One more pill who cares nobodys counting
They told me to sing it to the birds
Sing it to the birds
Noones listening
One more step and im falling off the mountain
The mountain sang to me
Love...
The mountain sang to me
Love...
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
I can't let go
I can't wake up
Time flies...
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah (dont you know)
Time flies...
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
(dont you know time flies)
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Flies...
Flies...
Flies...
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robin
Robin perched on twisted branch;
Sun reflected branches,
Sparkling morning light
Take in the moment;
As it flies by.
Robin twittering on a twisted post;
Cool breeze blowing leaves,
Cross this winters floor.
Spend a moment,
As it flies by.
Robin perched on spade handle;
Fluffs up his breast,
Against the winters morn.
Take moment, trap it
As it flies by.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True love never dies
Fiddle the riddle
Wiggle with the riddle
For true love never dies
Except those empty white lies
Love never says goodbye
It just flies
Low and high
Fiddle the riddle
Wiggle with the riddle
Perhaps you can unfold
The puzzle of true love not told
The love I know may sometimes fizzle
Then sparkle with the eye of a twinkle
After wear out like an ageless wrinkle
So I hear your cry and with you I sigh
True love itself never dies
True love never says goodbye
True love never tells a lie
True love never asks the reason why
It just flies and flies and flies and flies
Or it flies past you by
2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I Know Where The Soul Is
May be it sounds strange
But I know where the soul is.
The skeptics I won’t change.
Let them freely breathe!
My soul is the palm size,
It’s somewhere near the heart.
I feel it when it cries,
It doesn’t want with me to part.
I feel it when it’s full of joy,
It can overcome all troubles.
It tells me: Life enjoy!
It’s worthy of all the jewels.
At those happy moments it flies,
Puts the words into music,
All around it shines,
Fine art for it is so esthetic!
In my dreams it becomes a bird.
Happy soul is above the clouds.
It observes the whole world,
Poetic soul between the quiets and the louds.
But if you shoot this bird,
A soul has a risk not to return.
I give you my word,
Another world it will fly to learn.
And if a soul is wounded,
It will rush, getting the scars,
From the wicked world,
More trusting the stars.
Don’t shoot the birds!
They can be someones souls.
One day your soul can be that wounded bird
Shot by the wicked soul.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 20th of August,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once Again I Write...
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.
poem by Sara Jo Andrews
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My Life Experience
The more I live the more I am surprised.
There are still a lot of things to be realized.
The life flows like a river on the land,
The more I know the less I understand.
The more I give the less I get,
But my life style is: Never regret!
The time flies, it will never come back,
But the hopes still live with no lack.
Some people say: The less you know-the better.
But I think it’s not a laughing matter.
If you don’t know how to live now,
Don’t lose your courage!
In the best of my knowledge,
Speak out loud
And I am sure you’ll find the way out.
And I am sure you’ll be understood
As there are so many people
And most of them are so good.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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March Flies
Now comes the time when we douse flies
With various kinds of sprays
The sand flies, and the house flies,
And the flies with furtive ways.
But I keep my hate for the large flies
That come for the tree-lined creek
Those arch flies, the March flies
With a crosscut saw for a beak.
Now, most flies rouse in the autumn
From the summer's drowsy daze,
And they bite as nature taught 'em,
In various styles and ways.
They nip, or they stab or they burrow;
But the fly that knocks me out
Is the March fly, with the dull, dead eye
And a crosscut saw for a snout.
Now the house flies come to the table
Or busily play on the pane;
And our rage and heat they calmly treat
With the uttermost disdain.
And the buzz-flies buzz and blunder,
And the sandflies dig right in;
But my whole soul shrinks when the March fly sinks
His crosscut under my skin.
He's a sneak and an arrant coward,
And the lowest of low-down cows,
By nature ghoulishly dowered
With a weapon no law allows.
And it isn't the pain he gives me
Nor the blood he may chance to draw,
It's the loathsome way that he makes foul play
With his really terrible,
Most unbearable,
Horrible crosscut saw.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Her love is my inspiration
Her love is my inspiration
Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,
For she is the inspiration for my Love.
Nathaniel Cole Buddington
poem by Nathan Buddington
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Funny How Time Flies
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
Je ne sais pas ou ou le temps s'est enfui.
Oh je t'aime mon chri.
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
Ooh baby
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Oh baby
I don't know where it all went
Time passed us by
Just when it seemed the fun began
Ooh
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, please stay
Funny how time flies (please stay) when you're having fun, mmm
But time never ends
Let's find the time
To get together once again, someday soon
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, mmm, yeah, hoo
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Don't you ever leave
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Don't you ever go
Say you love me so
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Mmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
When you're having fun, yeah, hmhmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Je ne sais pas ou le temps s'est enfui.
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
I really don't know where all the time went
I really have to go
Stop, stop
Oh I really have to go
Oh, I really have to go
One more time?
Oh je t'aime mon cheri.
Ohoh, oh
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tendeness
Tenderness has million of faces and names,
Tenderness has million of secrets and signs.
It is in the autumns rains,
It is in the young wines.
Tenderness is a high flying bird,
It’s in the light breath of the wind.
It can be everywhere heard,
It can never be sinned.
Tenderness can be in crystal tears
Shining on your eyelashes.
It can be in timid rays of dawn,
It can be in warm sea splashes.
Tenderness is in all around,
It’s so easy to be found.
Wake up without vanity or flatness
And you will feel the tenderness.
Tenderness is in the quivering heart,
It turns your arms into the wings.
It can create a fine art,
Make a lot of beautiful things.
It fills your soul with magic light,
And all around becomes marvelous and bright.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 10th of September,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like the Flies in Winter
like flies at the end of summer/we all slow down as age advances, as age, time and clocks advance/ the coming ocean of time/like London Bridges, we all fall down
Like flies in winter, near a cold white windowpane, who are slowing like molasses. Cold lonliness on one side/white paint chips on the other
Like flies in winter/flies in autumn, who are swimming throught the air in slow motion.
Not so much the flies of summer
godblessamen
like fireflies flickering in the end/we are here and we are gone,
we eventually burn out.
poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
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Poet's Soul
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
I read the poet's inner world.
Pulse beats louder, then duller,
And all my doubts are just hurled.
The sadness sometimes a kiss cover,
Then suddenly curled at my feet,
Giving the whole body a heat,
The warmth of a true lover.
Fever passes through nervous points,
Chill runs through the whole body,
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
And feel that the soul is haughty.
I delve into the words and their nature,
Understanding destroys the walls,
Now I would like to capture
The main idea and the poems calls.
I read and my joy is in full swing,
My own soul gets the wings,
I am ready to fly with the singer,
Like me the poet is a swinger.
I am with that one who dared
To plunge into the holy spring naked,
I am with that one who shared
An inspiration and was not faked.
I read the poet's souls in the poems.
But do I read the souls of reality or dream?
Let's deem that no one here and there lies,
And the law of poetry is always precise.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 4th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Eyes
As only I look into your eyes
my soul truly realize
how much I love you.
Your eyes intoxicate,
I don’t exaggerate,
they are my fate.
They give me inspiration
and love sensation.
They give the rise to my imagination,
they give the rise to love temptation.
Your eyes attract,
Your eyes inspire,
My loving heart is just on fire.
My life becomes a celebration,
your eyes are just the revelation of love.
How much I starve!
How much I long
to kiss those two angels!
They are my visuals
of the whole universe.
And in my verse I say:
they are the source of light,
they shine so bright.
The stars are in your eyes.
In them I never see the lies.
They are my inspiration,
They are the God’s creation.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
November 6th,2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I feel so bad without you...
I feel so bad without you,
All my dreams are about you.
I lie in bed, thinking of only you.
You are my dearest and nearest,
The only one and sweetest.
Out of all you are the greatest.
You are so delicate and good
You quickly change my mood.
Your love I prefer to any food.
I love you so much, my darling.
You always look so charming,
When telling me "Good morning".
I touch you with my tongue,
You are my song I'd sung,
With you I am always young.
Every morning when I wake up
I want to have your love cup.
And slowly with pleasure sup.
I don't want you to loose,
Out of all only you I chose.
With only you I like to booze.
All days with you are the fests,
You have already passed all tests.
On you my whole life rests.
You are my inspiration and muse,
To love you I will never refuse,
My lovely drink - an orange juice.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska(Odessa, Ukraine)
The 1st of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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World Poetry Day
In the starry darkness of the night sky
The inspired poet’s rhymes fly.
They are quietly dreaming to live in a book,
For everyone to see the poet’s outlook.
Poet’s stanzas freely fly as rhymed constellation,
Spreading the light of the poet’s inspiration.
So, today, on World Poetry Day, my congratulations
To all those who know the sense of trochee and pentameter,
Who would like to see our Earth as a safe shelter,
Who are married to the muse and are never confused
To write and to show, even in a gloomy day, the bright way.
I therefore wish to all the poets:
Do not lose your inspiration!
Lyric is your revelation!
Let the round dance of words
Live with you as a favor of Gods!
Express yourself for Humanity
In the moments of creativity.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 21st of March,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Better Moon
I see you better now, shaded in deeper blue.
Hardly needing to carry the find-your-way lamp
Down to the river.
Tonight flies a better moon.
Sad water buffalo lie fast near the shallows;
A splash revealing the fly-catching fishes.
Dark gods silently watching.
Tonight flies a better moon.
I guess youve known lovers here, compliant in passion;
Softly laid in the old reed bed, harshly
Lit in the noon sun.
Tonight flies a better moon.
Now cloaked in this milky light, new as the virgin dawn,
Shrouded sweetly in all kinds of mystery,
You turn, smile and then are gone.
Tonight flies a better moon.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I need inspiration
I need inspiration like rolling hills and roaring thunder
I need inspiration like humanity's fatal blunder
I need inspiration of the purest kind
Where both the dark and the light are defined
I need inspiration to spark the flame of imagination
I need inspiration that could rouse an entire nation
I need inspiration like a roaring fire
The kind of inspiration of which I'll never tire
Please love be my inspiration
You love, are the light of my imagination
With those emerald eyes that are so serene
Your tempting words which set the scene
Your candied lips and gentle breath
That soul of yours with its endless depth
Come my love, explore with me
There is so much we've yet to see
On our journey we shall inspire that dullest of imaginations
And your love will be my eternal inspiration
poem by Jade Hymora
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The United Fruit Co.
When the trumpet sounded, it was
all prepared on the earth,
the Jehovah parcelled out the earth
to Coca Cola, Inc., Anaconda,
Ford Motors, and other entities:
The Fruit Company, Inc.
reserved for itself the most succulent,
the central coast of my own land,
the delicate waist of America.
It rechristened its territories
as the ’Banana Republics’
and over the sleeping dead,
over the restless heroes
who brought about the greatness, the liberty and the flags,
it established the comic opera:
abolished the independencies,
presented crowns of Caesar,
unsheathed envy, attracted
the dictatorship of the flies,
Trujillo flies, Tacho flies,
Carias flies, Martines flies,
Ubico flies, damp flies
of modest blood and marmalade,
drunken flies who zoom
over the ordinary graves,
circus flies, wise flies
well trained in tyranny.
Among the blood-thirsty flies
the Fruit Company lands its ships,
taking off the coffee and the fruit;
the treasure of our submerged
territories flow as though
on plates into the ships.
Meanwhile Indians are falling
into the sugared chasms
of the harbours, wrapped
for burials in the mist of the dawn:
a body rolls, a thing
that has no name, a fallen cipher,
a cluster of the dead fruit
thrown down on the dump.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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May be it's a sin...
Maybe it's a sin
So much to love
Forget about all
For my love to starve.
Or it's heavens gift
About you to think,
Love as a sweet nectar
From your lips to drink.
I can even be
For my love a slave.
All can be with me
But you should be save.
If our God can judge,
I will pray for you
And the words of salvage
Will be: I love you.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 18th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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