From A Needom I Feed
I am...
Channeling a need.
Channeling a need,
I am.
Channeling a need,
From a 'needom' I feed.
Gobbled up and in my mouth,
A lot of it chewed.
I am...
Channeling a need,
From a 'needom' I do.
Gobbled up and in my mouth,
A lot of it chewed I do...
Channeling a need,
With a needom to chew.
I am...
Channeling a need.
Channeling a need,
I am...
Channeling a need,
From a 'needom' I feed.
'Why are you so ridiculous? '
Us?
There is no 'us in 'I'.
I prefer you say 'ridiculi'.
And that is why...
I am...
Channeling a need,
From a 'needom' I feed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Prime
You must be channeling a fool,
If you expect I should converse with one.
There is nothing 'upstairs' in your head,
If you think your masquerade is fun!
It's bordering on stupid
And on the edge of being quite dumb...
To believe I'm not coherent enough,
To see what you are doing
And not be aware of what you've done!
You must be channeling a fool,
A personae suitable for sleepers.
But I am wide awake,
After tasting samples of what is fake.
And you're fake!
So shake it...
If you want with me to debate!
My time is prime.
And not a minute of it
I regard as waste!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Channeling Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary
'I've heard that before.'
I am channeling Poe.
'You don't have to channel po' no 'mo.
I think you have been very successful.
I make a suggestion you channel some dough,
So you can pay me back the money you owe.'
You have no sympathy for artists at all,
Do you?
'Why should I have sympathy,
For somebody channeling po'?
Do you know how many people
Right outside that door,
That have painted that picture too long.
Now...
IF you can channel up some fish and grits,
I'll give you all the sympathy you want.'
Are you here to bug me or what?
'You go right ahead.
Channel up all the 'po' you want.
I aint into it.
I know a few folks,
Who are not painting those kinds of pictures.
You told me earlier
You were home alone writing! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Channeling is just bad ventriloquism. You use another voice, but people can see your lips moving.
quote by Penn Jillette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By channeling my inner heiress, I created a new opportunity for young heiresses.
quote by Paris Hilton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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People hear that and say I'm being modest, but I am not a modest person, but I have to be truthful about what I'm doing and what I'm doing is channeling.
quote by Morgan Freeman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well-functioning financial systems are important in achieving sustained economic growth. They play a crucial role in channeling household savings into the corporate sector and allocating investment funds among firms.
quote by Toshihiko Fukui
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unfinished
Schubert’s hands have grown cold
Their mission unfulfilled
His symphony unfinished
His voice forever stilled.
Some notes were left behind him
A partly finished score
Two terrific movements
Left orphaned ever more.
Those who’ve made the effort
To finish out the piece
Have only met frustration
Channeling the deceased
His symphony was like his life-
The interrupted kind
Both haunted by a melody
Unfinished in the mind
by Robert J. McCullagh
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Spirit Echoes
The dreams of the immigrant
the hopes of the native
when the sweat meets the soil
the dollar the hands of the needy
the dance of waves upon Chilean shores
the fires still kindling upon the reservations
the African rivers the Alaskan Storms
the heights of New Zealand the Amazonian basins
the mist above the hills
the lone lotus in the forest
the sacred rituals the sexual release
electricity of the city
through all life
channeling from coast to coast
the long sigh of the buffalo's ghost
the great spirit echoes
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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She Loves Everybody
She loves everybody she loves everyone
Like the picture taken twenty years ago that she keeps in her portfolio
He wants everybody he wants anything
And they part the rope outside the whiskey bar
A glitter gown in orbit left to satellite a waning star
I touch down in the heated land
And shiver in my bones as I look up to greet the clouds that wait for me
Washed aside by circumstance
The watercloth had cleared the answer in my mind
And you were there with me, there with me again
She loves everybody she loves everyone
The evidence sits in the vcr
Hes choking on apologies, shes channeling a superstar
I tiny elbow through the crowd
Flashing lights, the musics loud, Im questioning if this is destiny
Disappearing from the rants
Ignoring risen sycophants, I close my eyes
And you were there with me, there with me, there with me again
She loves everybody she loves everyone
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Song
Ode to the american school,
bending branches to fit their mold,
attaching to students numbers,
-
channeling flesh by their own plans.
careless of the freedom then lost -
for in their lanes and their rivers:
-
The tides that suck and surge on past,
torrentialy devouring,
Heedlessly sweeping up the mass,
-
Is lost the sense of freedom that
is what is guaranteed to us.
The constitution is not well,
-
Something grander and still deeply
rooted must indeed be heeded
by the people, America.
-
Freedom of the flesh is wasted
if the mind is still bound in chains,
and fettered with a sense of course;
-
A way that thoughts have been locked in,
now doomed to lives full of remorse -
for lost is then the will of man.
poem by Monos Unalos
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A Writer's Block
With pen poised over the blank white sheet,
Waiting to receive writings, inspirational or automatic,
Through some sphere of phychic channeling,
My mind remained still.
Bleak snow-covered tundra in an artic freeze,
The whiteness of the paper blinds the eye of my imagination.
Feeling the chill breath of solitude sweeping
Across the barren flats of reflection,
I cap my pen and swear to never write again.
Then, faintly seen, upon a distant slope of thought,
A vague impression, a word, a sentence lights the
Winter's sky; line by line trails of creative expression
Mysteriously appear across that stark and frozen plain.
Like some great river's ice broken up at first breath
Of spring, a poem is freed to float.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Miracle On Barbour Street
Quiet.
Peaceful.
And not one syllable,
Of a cuss word heard.
Children are laughing and playing.
Fathers are strolling hand in hand,
With their actual children.
And mothers are seen,
Exposing less cleavage.
And the air is free,
Of the scent of weed!
They all appear to be dreadlocked.
With faces shining like gold!
'I will count to three.
And when I do...
You will not remember a thing!
1-2-3...
SNAP out of it! '
Thank you doctor.
I think my taste for nicotine,
Is diminishing.
'We are making some progress.
However...
You keep returning to this place,
In your visions.'
What place?
What are you talking about?
'It sounds delightful.
I'll call it Miracle On Barbour Street.
I will take detailed notes,
And share them with you...
At the end of your visit.
I think you digress to a time,
Many many years ago!
It must be a place you are channeling.
From a different life.
Would you like to schedule another session? '
Yes.
Record me next time.
I often dream of seeing the pyramids!
I bet my ancestors are trying to contact me.
Should I continue to take the medication?
'Yes...
Of course.
We are making much progress.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everything Vivid oh so Real
So surreal
everything appears
too real to be real
sober wide eye lucid mind
hallucinations?
How dull our perception
what we deem to be real
hydrogen strawberry patch
purple atmosphere soil
harvest dawn
streaks of violet orange-red
blood shed
sky's living proof
cloud's ceremonial formation
channeling spirits of great
distant cousin mountain ranges
sky
vivid oh so real
trees
vivid oh so real
auto metallic body paint
vivid oh so real
neighbor's sleep eye smile
vivid oh so real
morning rabbithole obligations
vivid oh so real
stage and spot light silence
vivid oh so real
flying feathered wake-up calls
vivid oh so real
everything I see
everything I touch
vivid oh so real
everything I feel
everything I imagine
vivid oh so real
dew transfers from
air to grass to my
bare flesh
vivid oh so real
my body
everything within
everything without
vivid oh so real
tepid bitterness
lukewarm caffeine fix
vivid oh so real
every illusion
performed by the senses
vivid oh so real
meditations under fulsome
tree branches
peace of mind
vivid oh so real
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Existence Balanced
In a dusty room perfumed by cigarettes
love patiently sits penning letters to itself
reading life by starlight
the angels gather glowingly
a blue light radiates throughout the galaxy
October harvest rich and round
inspirations in abundance
age of Aquarius delivering
insightful illuminations and prophetic revelations
as Lyra shines openly upon creation
justice for the pains inflicted upon
mother earth inner Armageddons
sprouting soulful seeds new
worlds and ancient rebirths
children of the sun healing with power of the spirit
Kachina dances the elders rejoice the arrival of the arch
technological booms economic explosions
medical science achieving man's immortality
all wars being waged be forgotten
discovering secrets left to us by ancient hybrid beings
peace upon the day of purification and punishment
electricity channeling eternal thoughts through time
life breathes in a womb of love as balance gives birth to
to an ever continuing creation
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Developments
Searching for the mystery as you view this script inscription
Many are the ways to interpret for, the meanings are much
A colossal amount of engrained pathways instinctual within
The neural network of the individual's mind locking on
The success of achievements surmounts with the yearning
For in time long ago you sought the reward afterwards
At times many there was a hole creating disbelief of what is now
Lying in bed I linked my belief mind to the creator seeking
We with I suffered analyzing for the solution of peace of mind
They are channeling now, with beliefs becoming meaningful
Now beginning are the answers with procedures
Like a manual outputting the various methods for the blazing
The internal biases were required so that hatred can be blended
In order to retract the essence of the discrimination colorless
After all, the studying of differences erases the extremes
As has been predicted, developments to stage journey's end
The books have been written and the comprehension awaits
You become the voyager with your destination prescripted
Like the prescription for a medicine to be developed again
Predisposing changes for curing cancer, diabetes and blindness
Take the initiative and have the courage-you become the scientist
You are worth depending upon and I am faithful onto you
Young man and woman and child without inhibitions
You must relate with me and work with us together multiplexed
My self - given name is romvscyjn, a word for love not tarnished
Ascending the cosmos with my sexuality, star souls give birth
My life remains as a baby needing breast feeding from a girl
The ignorant excelled, failed to see my luminescent undeveloped
poem by Ronald Arjune
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Anniversary
The kitchen calender, impaled by a nail in the wall,
rifled by the breeze over the still-damp floor,
its gridded edges stamped with dates
under Fantin La Tour plates,
is the wind's rolodex;
the blue filled corners of each graven square,
like window boxes after April snow,
says it's been a week beyond a year
since your long, inelegant demise, O Mother dear.
I see you snatched from the doldrums of Providence
where the streets had names like Main, Mt Pleasant and Charles,
transported from the high-school football fields of Providence,
so quiet, one could recite rosaries unperturbed,
despair tweaked only by the ticking clock,
the lovliest orphan on the block,
trusting only in what's plain: God's choosey grace,
that awesome provost, his Holy Ghost
and your own sweet face.
Again, I see you up with the sun, shouting awake
the sleepers sleeping, keeping house, house
for the tough but worth it spouse you took to wed,
a vile privilege, no mistake,
disappointment a sort of natural glue:
life, never perfect, wasn't designed to be so.
The depths of your redoubtable pool of grace
dwindled sadly, as life wore on, and only God
so friendly, early on, to blame.
I hear you channeling tales that told us who we were:
the corn-pilfering deer that bounded from the barn at dawn.
The wolves that crept down and howled in the Vermont foothills.
The squaw that came calling and unlike Whitman's stayed.
The supervised rite of the campus dance
where future soul-mates met by chance.
You clapped when each year I unwrapped the sack-butt-playing
shepherd in yellow hose, who sat at the corner of the creche.
Niagara, when pop complained the Canadian side was bigger.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Weak Beacons
The sunset of November leaned against
The propinquity of a hostile defense
And a yearning for all the suspended tears
Channeling from a cloyed and battered heart
Its alloyed blood rushed with a vexation
That molted daggers of vengeance
Unyielding to the farce world of stones
But in the illustrious night, the bones quivered
And rattled like the austere pebbles
Carrying our impeding lamentations
Somewhere, the red sun's beam engulfed
A drab bud uncurling its ancient wishes
Left unheard as the pollens shook away
Like dusts waning from the sun's graze
Whilst a flower withered to decadence
As its corolla expanded into a circle
Touching each other and coming closer
To the juxtaposition of life and death
A demise swayed like a pendulum
Refraining from the vulnerability
That was only stropped by the sibilance
Of this groveling paroxysm
The sun vying against its inertia
Gilded by a robust flame spat unto
The very leprous infection of the soul
And in these abundant transitions -
An asylum of metamorphosing cycle
I caught my own reflection in yours
Crying underneath the provoked wails
Scraping the veneer of a faithful heart
And wallowing a forward tongue
The hurtling of spear-like words
Gilded by the coruscations of what was
Stabbed like daggers on the back
Yet we feel the same, even hone the same wrath
Against all this oppressive games
And we are the same in different suits
Sleeping on different nights
Festooned by different vulturine cries
And penumbras of a lunar dime
I caught my bleared reflection -
Incarcerated inside a person I never knew
Gorging in the stale banquets of rues
Wearing shoes like a felled star
Running towards a lost future
Eyes riveted in a cold cellar
Of the dark pathos of the past
The gloaming spread its arms
And embraced the dying whims
As far as November can be
We sighed what we thought our final sighs
Like brothers in a call to incongruent arms -
Like weak beacons once aloft now toppled
And said good night to our dissimilar demise
I said good night to our different indifference
And embraced my sundered dusk
Coiling for an honest good night.
poem by Norman Santos
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I Used To Be Fat
I used to be fat,
Just like one spoilt brat,
As fat as a brat could be...
I could squash you flat,
Just as quick as that...
No-one stood too close to me...
Started a diet,
No need to fry it
And my weight began to fall!
One book! Just buy it!
You've got to try it!
And here's the number to call...
Just chew, chew, chew it!
Then loo, loo, loo it!
And soon, you'll be on the mend!
How do you do it?
Continue through it!
Persevere, my fat, fat friend!
I chewed like a cow,
Yes, I chewed and how
And I exercised each day...
Ta-da! Take a bow!
Just look at me now!
Admit it! I look O.K.!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Hate
You build me up and then you break me down and build me again
Emotions weaken
My blood is filled with lust knowing someone is wanting to kill me
We all go someday
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
There must be someway I can better my health to save me
From all the bad things that feel so good
You must be joking, you dont even know a thing about it
It's what you understood
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your...
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
Come on get up!
I get so much more from this than you do (than you do)
I get so much more from this than you (than you)
Haaaate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna free your hate!
You wanna feed your hate!
You wanna feed your...
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Feed It Good
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes.
And,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
I'm not gonna mock you anymore,
'Cause you're good to me.
You don't have to knock,
On that unlocked door.
No more...
I'll rock your needs
When we get it heated! .
Now,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Just feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Don't shout or scream,
To be mean and demean.
I'm not your enemy.
Nor do I owe a thing....
To ya!
You can pout with a frown,
Thinking it will bring me down.
To be around...
For your clown count!
To the ground.
But,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Just,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
And,
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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