En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Meaning There Is In the Intention Sent

I've learned to say what I mean.
And then to clear the air,
With frankincense and myrrh.
Keeping the atmosphere golden.
Without hints left to be perceived.
Or believed in the picking of thoughts
Some may rumor I intended to leave.

Any peace I release is there to be understood.
And not subjected to petty interpretations,
By those imbibed with intoxicants.
Already stirred...
And disturbed by blurring echos.
Heard but not from words.

'I heard what was said,
But that wasn't meant!
Even though the words were spoken...
The meaning there is in the intention sent.
Here...
You want a toke? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The sentence of love...

Many thoughts live inside my head,
Yet quite often they go unsaid.
So many thoughts that were not spoken,
Were they merely just a token? ...

Were the thoughts that meant the most,
The ones I never got round to post?
Have I missed the chance to save us all?
I think the chances must be small...

For if those thoughts meant so much,
We should find a way to stay in touch.
Thought understands feelings in a way,
That mere words could never convey...

And just because these words go unsaid,
Does not mean to life that they are dead.
For special words have meaning so true,
The words I'm thinking of are 'I love you...'

So although the words I don't often say,
May not be heard each and every day.
When the sentence of love my head does start,
You shall live forever in my heart...

Spread the love... The peace will follow...

poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In The Picture, Near It Or Close To The Frame

No matter what is said,
To another with words believed understood...
There will be a misinterpretation,
That is explained to someone else...
For that person to comprehend,
Within the limits of what they have experienced.
And everyone knows those experiences are different.

And if an experience is limited with no sense to make,
Eventually there will be yet another someone...
Who becomes offended,
By what was intentionally not meant to escalate...
For anyone else to hear in the first place.
But in small towns,
Nothing is left as it had initially originated.

'I just want you to know,
I heard what you said.
But I'll go ahead and forgive you anyway.'

~What did you hear that I said?
When you weren't there or in the conversation.~

'It doesn't matter.
Although you could have come to me first.'

~But what I said wasn't about you at all.
Nor were you,
In the picture, near it or close to the frame.~

'That's not what I heard.
And you don't have to explain.
I'm not into photography.
Or words I heard you want to now change.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Working on the value of words

Working on the value of words
~
some words require more
more than being spoken
written, read or listened to
some words need feeling
given their own soul
a touch of emotion
some words fall easily
across the page
or off the tongue
like a catchphrase
meaning almost nothing
words without value
spoken to be heard
said and not listened to
or written and missed
all without feeling
give words emotion
soul, fire and life
give words value
work the next line

poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Echos From the Past Are Heard

If,
For a number of decades...
A pleading made,
Flies away with the birds.
Why are eyes opened so wide today?
As if something rotten has been eaten.
And their bodies are ready to purge.
With an unrelenting cleansing.

And an increasing release of violence,
Does not perturb or disturb those fast asleep.

Why is a society suddenly awakened,
To find itself on collective knees?
Looking for reason,
As to how, when and why...
Their security and peace,
Can be so threatened?
With a clipping of their safety nets,
Right from under their feet!

'We need to reset our priorities! '
Echos from the past are heard.

'We need to be more diligent...
In protecting the wellbeing of our citizens.'
Those echos from the past are heard.

'We need to uphold and maintain those high standards.
Those that are cherished upon this land so loved.
We need to ensure our fellowmen are safe and secure.'
These echos from the past are heard.

And those echos from the past,
Annoy and go ignored.
As if made by attention seeking children.
To leave no one listening.
Or caring enough to pay attention,
Any given that is mentioned.

'Mommy?
There is a man outside.
And he's pointing a gun at our house! '

~Go to your room and pick up your things.
Do as I say.
Learn to obey.~

'That's more problematic than rational.
And poses a preventable illogical outcome.
Promising to have an impacting dire affect.'

~Go to your room!
Before I impact some dire affects on your bottom,
Young man.
Soon!
Do you hear me?
Soon!
And stop being such a smarty pants.~

Echos from the past are heard.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Power Of Denial

“I pledge allegiance to the flag”
“My country right or wrong”
“Novus Ordo seclorum”
“E Pluribus Unam”
“Love it or leave it”
“Uncle Sam needs you”
“Support the troops”
“Victory at any price”
“Spreading democracy”
“Winning the peace”
“New World Order”
“Obey and serve”
“Semper Fi”
“Fox News”
“Neo-Con”
“24”

Buzz words elicit patriotism
Words spoken to mesmerize
Words to combat other isms
Words meant to hypnotize

Words that put World on trial
Words spoken in denial…

WAKE UP AMERIKA!

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Text

One Sunday eve a grave old man,
Who had not been at church, did say,
'Eliza, tell me, if you can,
What text our Doctor took to-day?'

She hung her head, she blushed for shame,
One single word she did not know,
Nor verse nor chapter she could name,
Her silent blushes told him so.

Again said he, 'My little maid,
What in the sermon did you hear?
Come tell me that, for that may aid
Me to find out the text, my dear.'

A tear stole down each blushing cheek,
She wished she better had attended;
She sobbing said, when she could speak,
She heard not till 'twas almost ended.

'Ah! little heedless one, why what
Could you be thinking on? 'tis clear
Some foolish fancies must have got
Possession of your head, my dear.

'What thoughts were they, Eliza, tell,
Nor seek from me the truth to smother.'-
'O I remember very well,
I whispered something to my brother.

'I said, 'Be friends with me, dear Will;'
We quarrelled, sir, at the church door,-
Though he cried, 'Hush, don't speak, be still,'
Yet I repeated these words o'er

'Seven or eight times, I have no doubt.
But here comes William, and if he
The good things he has heard about
Forgets too, sir, the fault's in me.'

'No, sir,' said William, 'though perplext
And much disturbed by my sister,
I in this matter of the text,
I thank my memory, can assist her.

'I have, and pride myself on having,
A more retentive head than she.'-
Then gracefully his right hand waving,
He with no little vanity

Recited gospel, chapter, verse-
I should be loth to spoil in metre
All the good words he did rehearse,
As spoken by our Lord to Peter.

But surely never words from heaven
Of peace and love more full descended;
That we should seventy times seven
Forgive our brother that offended.

In every point of view he placed it,
As he the Doctor's self had been,
With emphasis and action graced it:
But from his self-conceit 'twas seen

Who had brought home the words, and who had
A little on the meaning thought;
Eliza now the old man knew had
Learned that which William never caught.

Without impeaching William's merit,
His head but served him for the letter;
Hers missed the words, but kept the spirit;
Her memory to her heart was debtor.

poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Rumor Has It

(bruce burch/vern dant/larry shell)
I overheard a conservation your name was mentioned in
But they didnt talk about us, only her again
I didnt want to listen but I hung on every word
They said some things I wish I hadnt heard
Chorus:
Rumor has it she has you
Rumor has it you love her too
Talk is cheap but the price is high when its true
Rumor has it she has you
This towns so small a whisper can be heard a mile away
And people here will gossip when theres nothing else to say
I wouldnt have believed my ears but I see it in your eyes
The stories going round this town arent lies
Rumor has it she has you
Rumor has it you love her too
Talk is cheap but the price is high when its true
Rumor has it she has you
Whoa...rumor has it she has you

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning

Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words

as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning

but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words

when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning

and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words

you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Silence

Silence in the language

Is the absence of speech

Silence in the conversation

Can be so remarkable and rich.

Silence is an atmosphere you make

And it's the situation you break.

Sometimes it tells you more

Than thousand words told before.

Silence is a feeling

Which is very intensive

Poorly created

It can be very offensive.

Silence can be so different

It has a lot of meanings

It's an expression of yourself

It shows your feelings.

There is a silence

That brings you peace

And you feel yourself

Being at your ease.

There is a silence of mystery

Like being in a dark wood.

There is a silence of happiness

When you are loved and understood.

There is a silence that frightens

There is a silence of anniversary dates

This silence reminds you

Of those lost fates.

There is a silence in music

When you listen to it and dream

But...suddenly...it stops.

Then...the sounds come to their extreme.

The prayer in silence

Is your inner world

When you dream in silence

You are just not heard.

Silence is golden

Or so I've heard

But it sometimes hurts more

Than a single told word.

Silence is golden

Or so goes a lie.

This silence of fraud

Do not need a reply.

Silence when you are in love

You do not need words.

Silence when you are fooled

You don't know what to say afterwards.

But...the best moment of silence

When you take my hand

I know you do not pretend

You just look at my eyes and I realize:

It's love, it's happiness.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Is There Anyone Home

Is there anyone home in this house made of stone?
Anyone inside know my name
Ive been around for a half of a hundred days.
Never saw a door shut so tight
Turn around, dont look down
Theres a man behind you with a gun
Like any wandering child in the wilderness,
Wild and uncaged are your ways
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
Theres a light around you
Ive come to switch it on
It will brighten every room
Dont be ashamed if you feel a whole lot warmer in you heart.
You got that feelin in your soul
Is there anyone home in this house made of stone?
Anyone in there who might care
Ive grown weary and wise and I feel much amazed.
Got a few good tales to unwind
Turn around, dont look down
Theres a man behind you with a gun.
Like any wandering minstrel Ive dawned in the house of a thousand delights.
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Words strung across the sky

Words strung across the sky
~
Words strung across the sky
Waiting to be heard
Talk of peace and love
Building a heavenly utopia
To aid our sleep, to ease our guilt
To answer a call to faith
Wealth matters not to words
The class of man falls away
The only judgment is by the self
The words chosen and used
The words listened to
It is people who make a place
And words which bring them together
Let them be written or spoken
As they are found
By the soul of man

poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Four-letter Word

His name is Gus
and boy can he cuss.
He knows every four-letter word.

When he gets mad
just like his dad
profanities are all he ever heard.

His voice gets real loud
in the midst of a crowd
and each time it occurred

People would stare
and he didn't even care.
His sensitivity is not even stirred.

Until one day
he hears his son say
four-letter words he has heard.

It shocks him yo hear
these words very clear
from a 4-year old which is absurd.

And so on this day
he vows never to say
another four-letter word.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tidings Of Good

Old Nick from his place of last resort
Came up and looked the world over.
He saw how the grass of the good was short
And the wicked lived in clover.

And he gravely said: 'This is all, all wrong,
And never by me intended.
If to me the power should ever belong
I shall have this thing amended.'

He looked so solemn and good and wise
As he made this observation
That the men who heard him believed their eyes
Instead of his reputation.

So they bruited the matter about, and each
Reported the words as nearly
As memory served-with additional speech
To bring out the meaning clearly.

The consequence was that none understood,
And the wildest rumors started
Of something intended to help the good
And injure the evil-hearted.

Then Robert Morrow was seen to smile
With a bright and lively joyance.
'A man,' said he, 'that is free from guile
Will now be free from annoyance.

'The Featherstones doubtless will now increase
And multiply like the rabbits,
While jailers, deputy sheriffs, police,
And writers will form good habits.

'The widows more easily robbed will be,
And no juror will ever heed 'em,
But open his purse to my eloquent plea
For security, gain, or freedom.'

When Benson heard of the luck of the good
(He was eating his dinner) he muttered:
'It cannot help _me_, for 'tis understood
My bread is already buttered.

'My plats of surveys are all false, they say,
But that cannot greatly matter
To me, for I'll tell the jurors that they
May lick, if they please, my platter.'

poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Told You So

The ones that can not be reached,
Must be left alone.
When time after time again,
It is noticed no attic light is on.
And there is no linking connection,
Allowed or condoned in that home.

Time is wasted on someone like this.
Especially if excuses are heard,
Being made from them often...
With consistent persistence.
The walls are constructed very thick,
And none of them not at all too thin.

With beliefs what they do is right from the start...
Nothing within them sticks,
Or goes too far.
Whether they are neighbors, relatives or friends...
What they think will always be right...
From the beginning to the end.

You can knock and knock...
Until your nose begins to bleed.
But people like this,
Must be left alone to leave!

It will be your consciousness,
Not theirs to lose...
If you don't take heed.
Accept this.
Believe...
And let go!
Release.

If you don't...
You will never hear from me these words,
I TOLD YOU SO.
I've learned too many lessons about interfering,
When a listening not done...
Has been made to me quite clear!

And when I recognize these people,
I don't walk away from them in a slow cordial strut.
I run.
In fear of losing my peace of mind.
And that I aint giving up.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Big Star

I don't want to be another big star
Picking at your cars
Stealing at your clothes
Finding out what you don't know
You don't know

I don't want to be your big star
Picking your calls; saying I don't know
I don't want to be your suitor
Lacking at your feet
Trying to love the things you need

And you know I've heard this before
And you know I've heard it some more
Won't you give me a chance
To break down your door
But I sit
Oh Oh
I still sit here

I don't want to be a tailor
Pricking at your thumb
Washing all the tears away
Some words
Oh no I believe they don't feel you
Picking up your dirt
Washing all your dreams away

(Repeat Chorus)

song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from Marchin' Already
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

0396 The Almost Unknown Language

I like to think that
there's a language
which is unspoken, unwritten
except
on rare occasions when a poet
puts two words together or
sometimes even
a whole line
which haunts the reader
beyond sense, even
beyond understanding and
beyond beauty as perceived and
beyond truth as previously revealed
but good beyond hope and yet
not beyond a shiver of delight and
the poet has heard it
in the space between the thoughts
in the space between the words
in the silence between the thoughts
in the silence between the words

and somewhere very wonderful
two beings we've never seen
look at each other
and smile

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Internet Love

He's on the internet with such kind words
Thinking he's telling her, things she hasn't heard
The words he says, are so flattering to her
She's with the one she loves, this can't occur

She will never leave his side to come to you
Him and her have something special, to him she's true
She's sorry for your loneliness, and hope you find
A love for yourself, not the internet kind

On the computer, friends will come and go
Some will touch your heart and some your soul
Some gone in an instant, some hang around
Others want what you can't give, to a marriage bound

So this lesson we have learned for now
Be kind to everyone, this you can allow
Don't take serious, pretty words you may hear
These kind of words, we must stay clear!

poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Very few Words

Thinkin bout puttin down
a few words,
meant for no one certain to be heard.
Thoughts on paper
made from dead trees,
little pieces of pulp, holding deep bits of me.
Wonder what's the use
what's the need,
a few voices expressed and temporarily freed.
A soul let go
a heart crying,
the blood of a spirit still trying.
Perhaps that's all we are
poets screaming,
in a search for a deeper meaning.
These words
very few,
just a brief shot at a human view.

poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Mr Speaker

Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Mr Speaker Gets The Word

Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!