Flipping the Bird
You question whether my efforts are poetic?
And the merit of their designation of being labelled 'poems'?
Well...
I have an activity for you.
That is understood,
In many languages too!
I want you to observe me flipping the bird.
And when I'm finished doing it...
I'd like for you to sit,
Reminiscing on what was delivered.
Along with the poeticness of it.
And the image depicted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
zPt #3 There is More
To exist is to breathe
and to walk when you must
To stand when there is no call to move
To see what lies before you
To hear the sounds of now
And to touch that which surrounds you
To live is to know that somewhere
...THERE IS MORE
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was eleven years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon
Reflection have decided to post some on this sit. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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zPt #2 Hope
Hope
Not wind ~ but breeze
Not boat ~ but raft
Not fact ~ but presumption
Yet evident
and constant
... if I but consent
to keep on trying
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was eleven years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon
Reflection have decided to post some on this sit. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting.
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have Written Many Poor Poems
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all -
They are single in dimension
Prose
In short lines of seemingly poetic form-
They do not call for their rereading
They are not difficult in ambiguities-
They seem to me only one simple clearly understood thing-
Like this poem
They can be understood at once
And forgotten soon after.
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all
And this is another one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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zPt #5 A Single Flower
If I could choose a single gift
to give to all mankind
I’d walk calmly to the backyard garden
where against the fence I’d find
a single flower, that grew
and bloomed in the spring
to wave in gentle breezes
and through it’s silence sing
the praises of the pure virtue, Love
and assure all men that there is good.
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was twelve years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon reflection have decided to post some on this site. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting.
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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zPt #5 A Single Flower (repost)
If I could choose a single gift
to give to all mankind
I’d walk calmly to the backyard garden
where against the fence I’d find
a single flower, that grew
and bloomed in the spring
to wave in gentle breezes
and through it’s silence sing
the praises of the pure virtue, Love
and assure all men that there is good.
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was twelve years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon reflection have decided to post some on this site. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting.
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you're finished, you'll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird... So let's look at the bird and see what it's doing -- that's what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.
quote by Richard Feynman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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zPt #1 Birth of a New Day
All is still and silent now
The world is at peace with man
The terrors of day are quiet now
Peace reigns throughout the land
Thin shades of night come creeping
slowly over the earth
Now in awesome stillness Earth lies
Like a woman awaiting the moment of birth
Remembering now, in fleeting moments last
too soon forgotten lessons
of a day almost past
If it were possible she’d sigh
‘Perhaps ‘tis best this way’
Dark battles for one last moment
... then the birth of a new day!
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was ten years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon
Reflection have decided to post some on this sit. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting.
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fate of Top Poems!
Past poets were remarkable by their poems only;
But present poets are made remarkable by others!
Poetry of the past are no doubt top poems ever;
But poetry of the top are not listed in top poems!
Becoming top poets how can theirs have no place
Among the top poems of the poetry list? I wonder!
Touch stone of the top poems depends on merit
But not by the supports of friends for fun ever!
Poems of lasting value only can become classic;
But poems of no merit also have become classic!
Poetry of the past are romantic and also classic
But poetry of the present are neither but modern!
What is the yardstick to select poems as top ones -
Just support of some but not merit and meaning?
poem by Ramesh T A
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Almost Poetic
It's almost poetic
The way you speak
It's almost poetic
The way you think
The way you sleep and dream
It's almost poetic
The way I feel for you
It's almost poetic
The way we argue
It's almost poetic
When we say goodbye
Not knowing the next time
We'll see each other
You are the curved line
And I am the dot
That creates the question mark..
And it's almost poetic
If it were not so pathetic.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Are My Poems Finished/ And I Finished With Them?
ARE MY POEMS FINISHED/ AND I FINISHED WITH THEM?
Are my poems finished
And I finished with them?
Each day has a beauty of its own
Light, wind, trees, colors, flowers.
All I see
The cracks in the grey pavement before me.
The cool cool wind at my back
The prayer ahead.
Even this poem is not properly finished
And I a fool racing and rushing
Through another
Again and again and again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If You've Got Issues You've Got Issues
Aren't you curious and find it strange,
That those who ridicule and complain...
About what others do and/or don't do,
Seem to have no activities at all...
Other than to come together day after day,
To do the same things?
With nothing to show for their efforts wasted?
'No.
I haven't noticed it.
I do my best to keep busy.
I don't take time watching what others do.
And where are you to observe this...
On a regular and daily basis.'
I'm..uh...I...well...
I asked you the question.
'I understood your question perfectly.
But what I don't understand...
Is 'how' and 'what' THEY do,
Has any connection to you? '
I...uh...well...I'm...
I've got to go.
It is difficult to have a conversation,
With somebody like you...
Who can't answer a simple question.
It's not complicated.
If you've got issues you've got issues.
Avoiding what they are wont solve them.
Especially to judge others.
'I agree with you.
And IF you have to go,
You have to go.
There was a time I'd wake up in the morning,
Confused and complex myself.
Until I self examined.'
Yeah.
I can see that.
Well I hope things work out for you.
Try not to be so negative.
'And...
Try to keep what we discussed,
To yourself, okay? '
No problem.
None at all.
I wont tell a soul.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Your Face
In your face.
And scrutinized on a daily basis,
That should not take place with such curiosity.
But it does with the getting of attention.
I am an American man.
And labelled black to be made aware of that.
To offend many when my proudness is expressed.
I have always had ambitions to be my best.
With a dignity I wear my identity to expose.
I have never had a wish to be depicted as a stereotype,
To appease those who are white to please appetites.
Not me I am happy to be who I am.
And then there are those who wish to be viewed,
As 'good' Negroes.
With obedience and subservience,
Served to those they'd rather not upset.
I am an American man.
And labelled black to be made aware of that.
To offend many when my proudness is expressed.
I have always had ambitions to be my best.
Does this confession make me 'less' patriotic?
Or am I 'more' American because I have beliefs...
To be the best human being that I can be.
Regardless of any images that provide others with relief.
How you depict with descriptions to abuse and define?
Is a problem you have to overcome in your limited mind.
With time given to dread or not.
And 'that' will never be a question you will hear me ask!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's like there are all these languages available, especially in terms of image. Why confine yourself to only English? There's all these languages and possibilities and concepts to speak or communicate with.
quote by William Wiley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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zPt #4 More Than Summer
When the sun is too bright I remember
I want to be more than a shadow
When the air gets too cool I am certain
I want to last more than a summer
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was eleven years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon reflection have decided to post some on this site. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the esignation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Poetic And Prophetic
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Those shoes have not been used.
Since many are afraid of walking.
But talk about nonsense,
They choose to do.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
It could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Lips flap flip flop so much.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'Flipping lips lick ears to touch,
With venom spiced and nothing nice to say...
Yet quick to pick from empty pockets.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
'Woe goes the mogul to spend from thieving.
Wishing to steal more.
To take and not to give.
Or...
Sympathize with those begging.'
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
'I see the holes in shoes.'
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A female and young cockatiel
had just finished her evening meal.
When an image occurred
of a masculine bird
who had feathers and sexual appeal.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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People Will Repeat, Again...Their Reminiscing
Soon one season ends,
As...
Another begins,
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
Soon one season ends,
As...
Another begins,
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
'It seems like yesterday,
We were strolling on the beach.'
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
'I remember those holidays,
When we all laughed, joked and played.'
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
'The first of the year is here.
Hope it's better than the other years.'
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
Soon one season ends,
As...
Another begins,
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
'It seems like yesterday,
We were strolling on the beach.'
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
And...
People will repeat,
Again...
Their reminiscing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emily Dickinson takes a poetry course
Dear Ms Dickinson: I’ve just received
your amusing little trifle,
'Faith is a fine invention'
as your first week's homework on this course..
and hope that as your designated docent
(you may of course request a change..)
we may establish a relationship
that’s full of ‘ mellow fruitfulness’ – as
John Keats (1795-1821) would put it..
First, may I say that it’s more interesting
for the reader, not to use the first line
of your poem –especially one so short –
as the title…something more intriguing perhaps?
such as – in this case, ‘Natural Science’?
I have a feeling that you have within you
much more to say on this theme
(already well covered by the poets, did you know?)
than this whimsical – if pertinent – short verse…
Thus it’s best for the poet as beginner
not to attempt the succinct ‘apercu’
(I hope you understand a little French?)
of such as our more resonant senior 'gentlemen'..…
I do question the use of ‘invention’
in the first line; however,
I think I detect a hint of emulating
William Blake’s poetic stance here?
Now, in these days of sexual equality
it would be best, I think,
not to use ‘Gentlemen’… are there not
lady biologists and preachers? ...
and we don’t now use those capital letters
so beloved of our German poets…
Your setting-off of science against religion
is alas, so easily overdone; especially
in the context of so short a verse.. and
‘Microscopes are prudent’ is, I have to say,
not the most evocative of phrases; even though
poetic compaction is a worthy aim…
Nor is it clear what ‘Emergency’ it is, to which
you might refer – microscopes are, I feel,
an image of less urgent study?
However, Miss Dickinson, I suspect
that you have a confident personal voice
which we shall hope to bring out?
I shall not discuss the other verse
which you include: its punctuation
of unseemly dashes reads so breathless
that one may hardly bestow the designation
‘poesy’ upon it..
However I look forward to your next week’s
homework, Miss Dickinson – may I suggest
something a little longer for your next
poetic venture? There are many themes
out there, even for the
single lady? Yrs, E. Doolittle BA (Hons)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Poets Lost In Translation
several differing translations
of some masterpiece poems
written by immortal poets
timeless especially esteemed
written in foreign languages
stresses how much poetry
suffers lost in translation
it is the hardest literary
medium to translate due
to the multiple meanings
of some words choice chosen
in the original mother language
the wonderful poetic effects
linking such words achieves
resonates in receptive souls
Is a good translation only
achieved when the translator
is a poet with a mother tongue
knowledge of both languages
in use vibrating admiration?
Is an intimate knowledge
a unique empathic sensitivity
for chosen poet in translation
a prime necessity in translating
feelings emotions ideals writ?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Think About It
Think about it.
Is it really fair,
That anyone declared intelligent...
Should assume those not given that designation,
Are amongst those ignorant?
And should at all cost,
Be avoided?
And...
To that,
Your response would be?
Are you giving the question I asked,
More time to ponder?
Comeon.
Why are you looking at me,
Suspiciously?
Why are you backing away from me?
It's just a simple question.
Hey?
Hey?
You don't have to run away.
It's not my survey.
What is it you hide,
And try to protect?
HEY?
Some people today,
Get highly defensive...
By anyone attempting to communicate.
It's not like I asked anything to offend,
Intentionally.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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