Terrorist Poetry
Too much truth,
And excludes delusion.
Expresses realism,
Felt and stripped of fraud.
Includes what is and eliminates what isn't.
Unless, of course...
Someone expresses remorse.
Or spent time in recovery...
Healing from divorce.
Terrorist poetry,
Must be avoided at all cost!
It threatens a fantasy.
Like descriptions of flying horses...
Saddled by talking moths!
And everyone knows...
Moths only sneeze, sniffle and cough!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Moths
The streetlight on the corner
in that cornered spot
has moths all around it
even though it's hot.
I see it from my window.
It flickers now and then.
The moths circle further away
but then they're back again.
What will those poor moths do
if that light goes out?
If I see it happen
I'll go outside and shout.
'Hey moths come over here.
I'll turn my porch light on.'
Then I can watch you circle once more
until the night is gone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.
quote by Paul Tillich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Political art expresses the cliches you agree with, unlike propaganda, which expresses the cliches you don't.
quote by Brad Holland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Everyone Looks Forward To Spring
Although it is a time of bloom and blossom
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
It also is a time of heavy pollen
And not everybody looks forward to the Spring.
The garden in full bloom is looking lovely
And blossoms on the bushes and the trees
But pollen by the warm breeze is carried
And you hear some people sniffle, cough and sneeze.
The beauty of Spring on the artist's canvas
And Spring inspire the lyric poet to rhyme
But all of those who have an allergy to pollen
Will tell you that Spring is not their favourite time.
Not every one yearns for the warm weather
Or for the scents of blossom, rose and flower
You cannot enjoy the beauty of a sunlit garden
If you cough and sneeze one hundred times an hour.
It is a time of greenery and beauty
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
And Mother Nature she is at her loveliest
But not everyone looks forward to the Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Waving A Poetry!
Composing a poetry
quite a complex tapestry
its a product of ingenuity
that derive from within me
Don't know to begin
a poem that explain
innate sentiments
of sensitive hues
Just like a waver
who creates with art
through skillfull work
guided by the heart
The beauty in poetry
is not seen by the eyes
but felt by the emotions
that contained in human
Waving is like writing
where a piece of poetry
is instinctively woven right
that interpolates human life
Indeed, waving a poetry
is a masterfull endeavor
that is quite not perfect
but expresses freedom
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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It seems to me monstrous that anyone should believe that the jazz rhythm expresses America. Jazz rhythm expresses the primitive savage.
quote by Isadora Duncan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Available Are The Notable
In a hall, lit with a bulb and a lamp,
Moths smother the brightest.
The bulb off, moths go to the lamp.
Love catches the available
31.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You Are Deserving Of The Best
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I did not appear here expecting forgiveness.
I came to you wanting to,
Show my respect.
I take full responsibility,
For the neglect I had shown...
When then I left.
Please,
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I want to reveal to you,
My immaturity has gone.
I came back to town to let you know...
No matter what has happened,
Between us...
I want you to hear me say,
It was me...
Not you,
Who had been the one wrong!
I've been wanting to tell you that,
For so very long.
Turn around and look at me.
Please?
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
If I have to deliver it on my knees,
I will.
Only happiness in your life,
I wish for you to seek and fulfill.
I've come to you to express my respect.
And to let you know,
You are deserving of the best...
Of what life has to offer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dancing My Fears Away
I’ll dance when I want to
I’ll dance what I feel
I’ll dance until the night is done
Until dusk almost here
Dancing helps me laugh
Dancing helps me cry
Dancing helps me everyday
To get by and by
It expresses my sadness
It expresses my fears
It expresses all my highest emotions
It helps helps me let go of my cares
I’ll dance when I want to
I’ll dance what I feel
I’ll dance until the night is done
Until dusk almost here
poem by Analyssa Mevs
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Fatal Error for Friend Thad
The suicidal moths attack.
Small kami kazi volunteers,
There is no way to hold them back.
The moment that a light appears.
The lanterns on the Patio
are very soon surrounded by
Frantic moths ready to go
and meet their maker in the sky.
I sit and watch them quietly
and wonder if they know they’ll die
But it remains a mystery
to me I see no reason why.
Perhaps they’re dying by mistake.
The very last that they will make.
4-May-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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His Mode Of Earning His Living
beside writing poetry
he takes macro photographs
ants like camels
moths into dinosaurs
moles into hills
islands into continents
sorrows magnified
this is beauty to him
his poetry magnifies
what you have not seen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is A Poetry Of Mediocrity
There is a poetry of mediocrity-
One simply utters whatever is on one's mind
In whatever language it happens to come-
One says the simplest thing in the plainest way
One expresses the moment-
Anyone can write the poetry of mediocrity
And everyone can read it-
I know what it is
I have written it often
And you are reading it now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.
Makes You Laugh and Cry At the Same Time-1
In the Woody Allen movie
he is standing in front of a dark painting
along side a woman dressed all in black.
'What do you think it means? he said.
Without looking at him
she says;
'it expresses the dark, filthy destiny
of the human race,
Its expresses degradation,
the horror of living.
The hopelessness.'
Something to that effect.
Woody Allen says:
What are you doing Thursday night? '
She says
'Committing suicide.'
He says'
'What are you doing Wednesday night? '
Woody is focused on getting a date.
She is focused on Darkness.
Both want
what they want.
Makes you laugh and cry at the same time.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Avoided To Evade
Excluded to delude.
Avoided to evade.
And truth as it is meant to be,
Will never find its way to the top...
Of anyone's list.
The trick has been in resisting it.
To make it something prayed against,
For the benefit to keep wickedness a profit.
And at the expense of decadence,
Payments are made to keep truth away.
Maintaining fear and descriptions to depict it,
Makes the drugging of the mind a medicated acceptance.
Avoided to evade and excluded to delude.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Moths
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came.
And a new breeze chattered
In its may-bud tenderness ---
Sending water-lillies sailing
As she turned to get undressed.
And the long night awakened
And we soared on powdered wings ---
Circling our tomorrows
In the wary month of spring.
Chasing shadows slipping
In a magic lantern slide ---
Creatures of the candle
On a night-light-ride.
Dipping and weaving --- flutter
Through the golden needles eye
In our haystack madness. butterfly-stroking
On a spring-tide high.
Lifes too long (as the lemming said)
As the candle burned and the moths were wed.
And well all burn together as the wick grows higher ---
Before the candles dead.
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
To join in the worship
Of the light that never dies
In a moments reflection
Of two moths spinning in her eyes.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stallions Hope
I believe that horses can heal,
I believe that their hearts feel all that we feel,
I believe that the joy from riding is real,
I believe that horses really can heal.
I see children riding and smiling with joy,
I see happy healthy girls and boys,
I see hope for life and wonder renewed,
I see love for the children coming to you.
I see dreams for the kids, who once were lost,
I see helping hands, no matter the cost,
I see friends for kids, who once were tossed,
I see children laughing and no longer lost.
I do believe that horses can heal,
I believe that horses make recovery real,
I believe being sober is a much better deal,
I really believe that horses can heal.
And I know that this land, its buildings and stones,
Insures that our children are never alone,
Insures that our horses and children are one,
Insures that their lives will finally be won.
Yes I do believe that horses can heal.
That recovery hope and dreams are real,
That God and love can make a child whole,
That all of this is the Stallions Hope role.
poem by Sandra Osborne
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Frangipani! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Leaves like half burnt toast,
Hang from the shrivelled branches
Of Frangipani.
Come monsoon showers;
It comes to life and flowers,
Savours in delight…
Seduced by sweet scent
Moths drawn by the fragrance, flock
At night for nectar.
Do they have a clue?
It’s fruitless search for nectar;
Trick up nature's sleeve,
To help pollinate
As moths flit over flowers;
Play designated role…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Resurrection of Moths
The moths worship a flame
in a circular motions,
As lovelorn stars orbit the moon
in a Venus constellation.
Chant a mythical choir in
a mystical fashion-
To appease the divine goddess
of love and passions.
A lamp of love bejeweled with
cacoethes’s emotions,
Bedding a wick woven
with wonderful impressions
And feeding it with
fiery oil of passions.
The moths resemble
the martyrs
ready to die for a nation,
Are raring for kamikaze on
spherical stations
of the flame housed in
bosom of emotions.
They aim to land on
Goddess of passions,
Mate with her in
fire walled mansion
Use their burning
flesh to graced an
auspicious occasion.
The hypnotized moths
march on drumbeats
-war chirps of crickets,
In a mind numbing night
-the starlit thickets,
With their face glowing
without fear or regret:
Chant dust to dust, ash to ash
While landing on bosom
of flaming lass
Smilingly turns
to mounds of ash.
Lo! A magical wand
of resurrection
of a golden glass,
Mysteriously moving
on mounds of ash,
Raises the seraphic
moths of the
highest class.
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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I went to a doctor and told him I felt normal on acid, that I was a light bulb in a world of moths. That is what the manic state is like.
quote by Carrie Fisher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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