Don't Take It Personal
I feel you there,
Waiting for me.
Anticipating something I will say...
To excite your mind.
Or put you to sleep instead.
And each time I compose,
I regard it as a blessing to do so.
There are others who think of this...
As an artform they can quickly dismiss.
However...
There is much more to this,
Than the reading of lines...
For rhyme and how those rhymes might fit.
Or the prose of it and if it makes sense.
I practice the 'science of an artform'.
And it is going to change.
Just like all of nature does.
But nothing can describe how these 'messages' begin.
A poet lets it flow.
Others throw together pieces and bits...
Hoping someone reads it with an understanding,
In their minds that lingers and sits.
You know...
Like some who study for a quiz.
And 'think' they've got all the right answers?
Some submit their writings just for 'ratings'
As if to satisfy an ego.
And the greatest of those who do what they do...
Do it to let it go!
Look at Picasso's work.
Or read anything from Beck!
Haiku...?
'Two birds nestle in one nest.
Eggs yoke the heavens.
But none are white or fried.'
I...
On the other hand,
Feel extremely blessed and pleased...
God has awarded me this gift,
As a form of therapy.
And using this 'method' to release my thoughts,
To free them for others who are unsuspecting...
When I'm done with one revelation,
I am on to another one.
So if anyone anticipates what I have to say...
In the way I say it.
Don't take it personal.
I've already done that!
~Two birds nestle in one nest.
Eggs yoke the heavens.
But none are white or fried.~
*That makes absolutely no sense! *
Perhaps not to you.
But neither does this statement to me...
'Let us make man in 'our' image.'
What 'image' is that?
If the Creator is unseen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dont Quote Me On That
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice.
Did you see the one, yeah yeah,
The one they wrote in the paper just the other day,
Well, well would you believe it,
Well what I said, they took it all the wrong way.
Now youve gotta be careful, bout what you say,
Cos theyve got a bad habit
Were you reading in between the lines?
Or is that what I said? , now I just cant remember
They seem to have a very good memory though
But as far as Im concerned, as as far as Im concerned
You don;t have to be black white, chinese or anything really
Just enjoy, shut up, listen and dance...
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that, dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that, please dont quote me
Dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that
Hey hey, you know something, I said I liked that guy,
But thats not what I read in the paper
I dont have anything against them,
Its just eggs bacon and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that please dont quote me
Dont quoe me on that
Dont quote me on that.
You know, now we get worried about what we say
We shouldnt be that way
You know, I dont care who comes,
Cos as far as Im concerned,
Its, eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that
Dontr quote me on that
Please dont quote me
Mama mama, you know Im still friends with mickey
They say I shouldnt like him anymore, because Im all white,
Well hes allright by me
Dont quote me on that
Please dont quote me
Dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that
Now what I do, I bring all my old friends along to see the show
And if you have the wrong ideas well,
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that oh no
(dont quote me on that)
Please dont quote me
(dont quote me on that)
I never said that
(dont quote me on that)
Thats not what I meant
(dont quote me on that)
Well I suppose you could take it that way
(dont quote me on that)
But thats not what I meant to say
(dont quote me on that)
Wont you give me another chance
(dont quote me on that)
Please please
Dont quote me on that....
Id like to say thank you to pete, peter tosh
And all the other people who come and they believe in us for the fun and the music
Cos all Ive got to say to you press now is
Its all bacon beans and a fried slice
Eggs bacon beans and a fried slive
Go to maggies caff
132 liverpool road
Just down the road, just round the corner
Only theres not much corner
Its just chairs and tables and theyve even got a space invaders machine...
A cup of tea, thats fine for me,
Cos its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slive
Are you sure you turned that tape recorder off?
Are you sure? ,
Are you sure?
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nestle
Nestle, nestle, nestle!
Come and nestle up my tea when,
I have no choice at all.
Yes, you can kill the prophets but,
You cannot kill the message!
So do nestle up my tea and my nest like,
The hopes and dreams that i have for you.
Of the optical values of my love to you,
To swing out the muse with love and care;
Like the love that we share on this picture.
Come and nestle up my nest and my tea,
Like the comprehensive ideas from my conscious;
For the wind blows to where it wants to.
Come to me my lover,
Come and let us share the secrets of our love;
Like the nakedness of your love in an open air with,
The thing called love all along to muse us together.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet Can
Why a poet can not remain in crowded place?
Catch the pulse of an ordinary man in race
See the drops his labor inform of sweat
How much he struggles to meet ends and eat
There is valid point in conceding
We all need nice feeding
Every moment of great surprise
To grow day by day and feel wise
Humanity breathes in open and shows the class
We just don’t observe it and make casual pass
We find it irrelevant and out dated concept
But makes it so sentimental when openly wept
We hardly move without aim
It has mechanical aspirations to claim
Life is taken as mere compulsion
To be pulled on with or without resumption
Here comes a stage when you want real eruption
Your ideas to come out from heart with assumption
You need some one to read and come out with its consumption
Two words of appreciation and encouragement without disruption
So stage for natural poet is set
It has nothing to do with any kind of stage
Lonely or among people makes no sense
Yes but nature makes easy flow of sentences
Natural poet belongs to all and considers his duty
In red rose he finds fragrance with simple beauty
Flowers catch his fancy and enlighten imagination
How many things come up for revelation?
In morning shadows are just normal in size
They grow short by the time noon seize
Hot sun makes poet to take refuge under shed
Evenings are forcing him to pack up and lead
Nights bring all silvery lines in mind
Beautiful moon at its zenith is very kind
All birds are now quiet and in the nest
Only poet is awake and tries his best
I would love to call him a free bird
As well receiver of lord’s word
Only aim is to spread the lovely message
Whether as boy, youth or in the old age
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Symbols
I watched a rosebud very long
Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then, when I thought it should be strong,
It opened at the matin hour
And fell at evensong.
I watched a nest from day to day,
A green nest full of pleasant shade,
Wherein three speckled eggs were laid:
But when they should have hatched in May,
The two old birds had grown afraid
Or tired, and flew away.
Then in my wrath I broke the bough
That I had tended so with care,
Hoping its scent should fill the air;
I crushed the eggs, not heeding how
Their ancient promise had been fair:
I would have vengeance now.
But the dead branch spoke from the sod,
And the eggs answered me again:
Because we failed dost thou complain?
Is thy wrath just? And what if God,
Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain,
Should also take the rod?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skylark
Tiny bird, titanic sky
What a gift to your wing,
The immensity it gives to the sphere,
With nothing beneath
Save man and his petty thing.
Air borne cloud like
How you transcend passion gale
Feel free from nest and eggs-
Mine so sense heavy,
Could hardly fly outside me.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleep Talk
Sleep talks more from not understanding it,
and while they come too see our ghost it listens,
most know we exchange passed glances knowingly.
Waiting less for those few eggs that hatched and flew,
What has raven done, with some bright shiney eyes?
And the rest outside the windows nest, sits empty.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ten Years Gone
(page/plant)
Then as it was, then again it will be
An though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea
Blind stars of fortune, each have several rays
On the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey
Kind of makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
But as the eagle leaves the nest, its got so far to go
Changes fill my time, baby, thats alright with me
In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be
Did you ever really need somebody, and really need em bad
Did you ever really want somebody, the best love you ever had
Do you ever remember me, baby, did it feel so good
cause it was just the first time, and you knew you would
Through the eyes an I sparkle, senses growing keen
Taste your love along the way, see your feathers preen
Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
We are eagles of one nest, the nest is in our soul
Vixen in my dreams, with great surprise to me
Never thought Id see your face the way it used to be
Oh darlin, oh darlin
Im never gonna leave you. I never gonna leave
Holdin on, ten years gone
Ten years gone, holdin on, ten years gone
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ten Years Gone
Written by: page/plant
Then as it was, then again it will be
An though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea
Blind stars of fortune, each have several rays
On the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey
Kind of makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
But as the eagle leaves the nest, its got so far to go
Changes fill my time, baby, thats alright with me
In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be
Did you ever really need somebody, and really need em bad
Did you ever really want somebody, the best love you ever had
Do you ever remember me, baby, did it feel so good
cause it was just the first time, and you knew you would
Through the eyes an I sparkle, senses growing keen
Taste your love along the way, see your feathers preen
Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
We are eagles of one nest, the nest is in our soul
Vixen in my dreams, with great surprise to me
Never thought Id see your face the way it used to be
Oh darlin, oh darlin
Im never gonna leave you. I never gonna leave
Holdin on, ten years gone
Ten years gone, holdin on, ten years gone
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everywhere
Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
'Cause when I look you're, you're never there
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere
You're everywhere
Tell me how I got this far
Tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I recognize the way you make me feel
It's hard to think that
You might not be real
I sense it now, the water's getting deep
I try to wash the pain away from me
Away from me
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone
And when I touch your hand
It's then I understand
The beauty that's within
It's now that we begin
You always light my way
There never comes a day
No matter where I go
I always feel you so
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
You're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everywhere
Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
'Cause when I look you're, you're never there
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere
You're everywhere
Tell me how I got this far
Tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I recognize the way you make me feel
It's hard to think that
You might not be real
I sense it now, the water's getting deep
I try to wash the pain away from me
Away from me
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone
And when I touch your hand
It's then I understand
The beauty that's within
It's now that we begin
You always light my way
There never comes a day
No matter where I go
I always feel you so
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
You're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Of The Paper
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask such
a simple task from me
write as you wish
think as you want to
or dont want to
I feel a white dove
flying amongst wondrous
cumulus clouds
meditate as much as i wish
so that the white becomes
a mere plane of zen,
a vibration of existence
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask just
such a simple thing of me
to swing myself and exercise
my thoughts so that i let loose
clouds, birds, stars and moon
in the minds of men
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they always
are my best friends,
open an infinite plane
for me to act out my antics
for the good of men,
exercise their minds and
let their humours flow
i like the white of the
screen and the paper
because they are always
there to accommodate me
to let the gift from heaven flow
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birds On The Wires
Birds on the wires
though I know not your name
are you there to tell me
that spring will soon come?
Birds on the wires
though I know not your name
have you already chosen the tree
where you will make a nest
for your eggs?
Birds on the wires
can you see me from there?
How I wish
I have wings like you
so I can fly high enough
to see from above
the beauty of life
below.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fashions are a passing phase for friend Jon London
I read your words with greatest care
and try to see your point of view
Although sometimes I must declare
I find it difficult to do.
I hesitate to criticise.
Aware the fault may lie with me.
Nor dare I offer you advice.
You might resent it bitterly.
The messages you try to send
to me lack simple clarity
I cannot see what you intend.
It makes no sense at all to me.
Your random thoughts lack coherence
They’re neither poetry nor prose.
An unintended consequence
of fashions changing I suppose.
The way that poetry is taught
in schools and colleges today.
They do not know although they ought.
Anything goes is not the way.
Most modern so called poetry
can only be poetic prose
Although it’s written beautifully
Opinions differ I suppose.
I’ll stick to formal poetry
Perhaps I need the discipline
that rhyme and meter gives to me.
And free form verse I will decline.
2-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is not Always May
No hay pajaros en los nidos de antano.
Spanish Proverb
The sun is bright,--the air is clear,
The darting swallows soar and sing.
And from the stately elms I hear
The bluebird prophesying Spring.
So blue you winding river flows,
It seems an outlet from the sky,
Where waiting till the west-wind blows,
The freighted clouds at anchor lie.
All things are new;--the buds, the leaves,
That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest,
And even the nest beneath the eaves;--
There are no birds in last year's nest!
All things rejoice in youth and love,
The fulness of their first delight!
And learn from the soft heavens above
The melting tenderness of night.
Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme,
Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay;
Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime,
For oh, it is not always May!
Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth,
To some good angel leave the rest;
For Time will teach thee soon the truth,
There are no birds in last year's nest!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Eggs Of The Blue Bird On The Nest
the blue bird
takes care of its nest
all the white eggs
warm beneath its feathers
all those nights
and even cold days
and then when the eggs hatch
the fledgelings
prematurely spread their wings
fall off from the branch
where the nest hangs
on the following morning
you see the ants feasting on their flesh
ah! the blue bird sings again
readies itself for the rain
it escapes away from its sorrows
and flies away...far, far away
far, far away....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Paper Nautilus
For authorities whose hopes
are shaped by mercenaries?
Writers entrapped by
teatime fame and by
commuters' comforts? Not for these
the paper nautilus
constructs her thin glass shell.
Giving her perishable
souvenir of hope, a dull
white outside and smooth-
edged inner surface
glossy as the sea, the watchful
maker of it guards it
day and night; she scarcely
eats until the eggs are hatched.
Buried eight-fold in her eight
arms, for she is in
a sense a devil-
fish, her glass ram'shorn-cradled freight
is hid but is not crushed;
as Hercules, bitten
by a crab loyal to the hydra,
was hindered to succeed,
the intensively
watched eggs coming from
the shell free it when they are freed,--
leaving its wasp-nest flaws
of white on white, and close-
laid Ionic chiton-folds
like the lines in the mane of
a Parthenon horse,
round which the arms had
wound themselves as if they knew love
is the only fortress
strong enough to trust to.
poem by Marianne Moore
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Quail's Nest
I wandered out one rainy day
And heard a bird with merry joys
Cry 'wet my foot' for half the way;
I stood and wondered at the noise,
When from my foot a bird did flee--
The rain flew bouncing from her breast
I wondered what the bird could be,
And almost trampled on her nest.
The nest was full of eggs and round--
I met a shepherd in the vales,
And stood to tell him what I found.
He knew and said it was a quail's,
For he himself the nest had found,
Among the wheat and on the green,
When going on his daily round,
With eggs as many as fifteen.
Among the stranger birds they feed,
Their summer flight is short and low;
There's very few know where they breed,
And scarcely any where they go.
poem by John Clare
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Eggs
Catch that bird, catching does disgust
And sit it in your hand, like a canary.
It shall fly, flew it did, and lift it first,
This is to make it flight to enlist the fighter
Of the birds on a regular basis.
Catch or teach the birds so that birth may result in death.
Catch us always, for we are birds with eggs,
And eggs are given to us.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Critique Of Poetry
A poem is a sorry thing,
Not fit for reading to a king:
It’s often full of silly rhymes
That waste a lot of people’s times.
But modern poets can’t rhyme at all,
Which really is abominable;
Their rhythm quickly gets all out of whack,
Because I guess it just seems like for rhythm and rhyme they don’t have the necessary knack.
Phrases created on demand
Which nobody can understand,
Like wool that's thrown across a fence
And stirred until it is quite dense.
Syntax gets twisted out of shape
Not unlike a grinning ape -
Examples which of, I think cannot,
So, yet to learn have I a lot.
Poems do not make much sense
When talking of abstract sentiments
Or waffle philosophical
On subjects what ain’t topical.
A poem can be so abstruse
It makes you feel you’re quite obtuse;
You scratch your head until it’s sore,
And still can’t follow any more.
So poets often write of love,
Usually rhymed with “heaven above”,
Neither of which they know about -
But mostly they are not found out.
And many a poet is a bore
With simile and metaphor
That fill up many an empty line
With silly thoughts like yours and mine.
A simile is like a ball
(Or maybe not - I can’t recall) ,
Or like a man who runs around
And never seems to touch the ground.
A metaphor’s a stranger’s child,
And so to you it might seem wild;
But just when you think, “This is rum! ”
It up and bites you in the part of the anatomy on which a homo sapiens normally sits.
Now, if you think you’ve got my drift,
Then you have a very special gift,
‘Cause I can’t understand myself -
So, best to leave me on the shelf!
poem by Rory Hudson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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