Conjugating
I conjugate the verb to be:
miracle sentences;
non-existent one moment
then coming into Being
utterly unique the next;
perhaps never before
uttered
in all of existence
before this
moment,
on this page
at this time
from this mind.
Miracle this,
shared by all of us.
I conjugate the verb Coming into Being
from Potentialities of Being
trolling for words not yet extent
having some portion of Being
but not yet born
on Poet Pages.
I conjugate the verb Now Being Born
words coupling in sentences
flowing down
forming paragraphs
couplets, rhymes,
emotional hieroglyphics,
history,
Ideas
and glifs,
and then they
are on to Being Past.
In single verbs
we lash together
all Being;
that which is Now Born on pages,
that which was written yesterday
and those word-stories
we borrow
from future sentences
yet to be born
which live only in our dreams.
We conjure all this
from that Beautiful Nothingness
where Creativity lives
where unexpectedly
these Beings
come as daytime
and night-time sprites
into life
shine as diamond-faceted
moon-beams
changing who we are
as they transit.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Verbs v. nouns
Nouns…
they’re dead things; names
you give to things to render them
immobile; to make them yours, your very own; fit for nothing
except scrapheaps, museums, dictionaries, armchairs;
but they make you feel good;
you have control over their world;
you don’t have to think about them any more;
they’re all locked up safe in your collecting-box,
the noun for which is head:
you can sound important with nouns:
this government’s raft of measures
for fiscal stimulation of the economy
but verbs… ah, verbs!
you can’t own them, push them about,
collect them, be important about them;
they own themselves;
they’re outdoor words: going about their
lawful business, doing what they're best at,
measuring their own life as they work;
adapting themselves to what needs to be done
which nouns can’t do without a committee
and then it’s too late; happy
to be themselves, being; even
being while they’re doing.. don't you wish
you were a verb?
Nature – (that’s a verb, by the way,
not a noun) – is all verbs; evolution
is a verb (not a theory):
DNA’s a verb – you can’t own it
like a noun…it doesn’t even
want to own you…
so, be a child – put your boots on,
run, splash, shout look at all those verbs;
how bright the world, what fun,
nothing to put in your pocket to take home
(or if you do, it’ll change to a noun, your noun,
in your pocket, in your drawer, gathering dust:
verbs don’t have the time to gather dust…)
verbs are for observing; verbs are for
seeing for the first time; wow! Verbs are for
inventors, explorers, tree-climbing,
coming home after a day of verb-watching
tired and looking forward to tomorrow
and sleeping soundly, maybe even
thanking, laughing, giving, living;
God is a verb.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Is Written In Red
I am written in red,
I am sliding across the page of life.
I am racing across the lines of language.
I am red.
I write words,
I create lines and sentences,
I am kept in solitude
I am red.
I create paragraphs.
I create signatures.
I know what you're thinking before you speak,
I am red.
I cannot breath because I am enclosed in a capsule.
A capsule that covers the knowledge inside.
All I do is stare at pages,
All I know is pages,
I become apart of the pages,
And the pages become apart of me.
I become apart of english,
I become apart of words,
I am RED.
BY: Takisha Fields
poem by Kiesha fields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Word
If I make a word
it is first sculpted from letters
on the page
a canvass across which
letters skate
from margin to margin transforming
into meanings and sentences
which give us art, science, poetry
and civilization.
This is created from an arbitrary entity,
the scratchings we call letters
which in turn form yet another
mysterious entity we call the alphabet.
What manner of miracle is this?
All of civilization is born from
these scribbly scratchings?
So if each letter is an imaginary entity,
an arbitrary symbol we made up
which has no meaning by itself
and lives inside another arbitrary entity
we call the alphabet
we may properly ask
what is going on here?
Meaning here is deriving from an arbitrary nothingness
arbitrarily created from arbitrary letters
by virtue of common agreement around
what words will mean?
Ponder this:
we too, as individuals are letter unique
and, in our variety, form a kind of human alphabet.
What we all mean and can mean to each other
therefore depends upon the words we form
in our families and communities; our human alphabets.
So, one word letters such as 'I' are too self-regarding
and are narcissistic anomalies
not true words at all.
Better words have more syllables than that
and have enabled us to form social sentences
more complex
which we can use for good or ill
peace or war, love or hate.
So watch your words and sentences
don't swing them recklessly in a crowded room
you'll put somebody's mind out
or create genius.
Big responsibility this
especially for us poets.
So in the end
in mass society
you and I are a single letter
but combined create all there is.
You can take that
as the first
and last
Word
And by the way
arbitrary letters
are electrons at the sub-atomic level
and combine to make molecules
and the greatest meaning of all
All of the Universe.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today... 'God my Maker
I was intricately woven upon His heavenly loom
As He carefully knit me together in my mothers womb
In that most secret of places when my conception took place
Ready at the time of my birth to enter the human race
Before the first moment of my earthly existence began
God had written in His book my inmost being and life plan
Each syllable penned and words in calligraphy composed
There sentences were handwritten and the paragraphs disclosed,
From the first chapter of my birth to the last one of my death
Each had been thoughtfully written before I'd taken a breath
I praise God that I am fearfully and wonderfully made
The handiwork of My Great Creator is in me displayed
Living letters turned into syllables and then became words.
These words began to form phrases and the sentences emerged.
Chapters made out of many paragraphs were arranged with care
each carefully written by the in the book of my life there.
For my life is now that book to be read by everyone
because it speaks of His Grace and the wonders Jesus has done.
For in His mercy before the world was made and time began
He had included Roy Allen in His great Salvation plan.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Born To Be Loved By You
Borne again.
Because have you at just being borne again.
At last I feel that Im alive and more.
This is the moment Ive waited for.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Born to walk with you.born to talk with you.
I was born for you.
Born to be with you, only you.
Born to be loved by you.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born to be loved by you
(you and only you) born to be with only you.
I look at you and all at once I know that dreams come true.
For there you are the other part of me.
I have found my destiny.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Right or wrong for you.weak or strong for you.
Faithful or untrue
Born chained forever and far beyond.
Born to be loved by you and only you
No one else will do.
Heart and soul,born to be loved
Born to be loved.born to be loved by you.
(you and only you,born to be with only you)
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby..
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Miracle Of Life
Sometimes our lives are filled
with great moments
that will always remain in our mind.
Some are more significant than others,
always trapped in time
for you to always remember.
One of the greatest moments
in anyone’s life
is witnessing the miracle of life.
I remember not wanting
to see my son born,
I had heard so many gory stories
I did not want to be there.
Then at the last moment
I changed my mind,
I stood there holding my wife’s hand
as the miracle of life
happened right before my eyes.
After it was over I yawned,
suddenly the delivery room broke into pandemonium
when someone shouted, “The fathers fainting, get him out! ”
All I did was yawn under the mask I wore.
With that, they hustled me out for some fresh air.
However, I smile at that now.
However, my advice to any father
who gets the chance to see his child born -
take it and relish it for the rest of your life.
12 November 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
From, Thinking and Love!
From to....
Thinking......
Love! ! ! Someone!
This is a powerful verb!
Needs no preposition.
Love! Ready.
Without one, you can also.
They say someone is better
But it can be alone!
He fulfills his role well!
LOVE only when coupled
Loving Someone!
You can not love this, this, this......
You can not love My, Your, Our......
You can only LOVE! in You, for You
There you can!
Then, combine!
Jealous that Verb!
But it also has another verb.
What comes after the LOVE!
Think!
Thinking requires.... something that, in my, in yours, in our!
You also think.... From the Other!
Thinking all is wanting!
At that point! In this combination!
The love does not tolerate such a preposition
Demanding that verb!
Then comes the
FROM!
Birth from thee!
Because you began putting together The Love
and finished with The Think!
Painful this verb!
poem by Mirna Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pages
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
In this bookcase full of stories
You find some of them are true
Tales of love and glory
Many lives of daring-do
There is mystery and adventure
They lie waiting there for you
So step inside and find the other you
Take the high road tomorrow
But the low road today
Reading others sorrow
Might just be the only way
The father hears confession
While the mothers feeling blue
These characters do what you want them to
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
Theres glamour and dementia
A message from the tomb
Staircase to the heavens
And secrets in the room
When you are riding on that dark horse
To the one that got away
Theres no regrets and no dues left to pay
cause in these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
Drifting down the river of the make believe
We laugh and grieve
Hoping for an ending of our own design
Where all is fine
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born... (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Artist as verb
Perhaps the world is more grammatical
than grammar: reveals itself, a little coded –
as codes tempt, when grammar hides
under the guise of schoolmaster:
the artist, say, as verb:
as the verb, to be:
luring the mighty subject
beyond all thought, to become
an object we can all enjoy:
the sculptor, deep within his isness,
praying with his chisel
so that Krishna cannot but consent;
entering this stone;
the poet, listening to
the Word behind all words,
charming the spirit of all things
to make all objects sacred in our eyes;
the musician, listening to the silence,
as through his being, pass
worlds of knowledge beyond all words..
we, as heaven’s verb,
watching as subject, object,
make themselves a mirror for each other.
Grammar could be love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Was Not When You Were Born, You Were Old When I Was Born
I was not when you were born,
You were old when I was born.
You regret that I was late born,
I regret that you were early born.
I was not when you were born,
You were old when I was born.
I wished to have been born together,
We could enjoy our time together.
You were not when I was born,
I was old when you were born.
I was so far away from you,
You were so distant from me.
You were not when I was born,
I was old when you were born.
I’d become a flower-seeking butterfly,
And sleep on the fragrant grass every night.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Panchadasi Chapter Two
O Lord, You are my own self..
remind me, now, that my own self is You..
and that’s about the measure of it:
if I were to speak of You, or praise You,
I would speak verbs, and nouns, and sentences;
remind me, Lord, that every verb
speaks of, and yet hides,
Your Creating, here and now;
that every noun speaks of, and hides
the single every name of You;
that every sentence describes, hides,
Your Creation and its beauty;
so take me, know me, Lord, to be
Your silent worshipper and friend
in the stillness of the temple of OurSelf.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Grammar Lesson
A noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.
An adjective is what describes the noun.
In "The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"
of and with are prepositions. The's
an article, a can's a noun,
a noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.
A can can roll - or not. What isn't was
or might be, might meaning not yet known.
"Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"
is present tense. While words like our and us
are pronouns - i.e. it is moldy, they are icky brown.
A noun's a thing; a verb's the thing it does.
Is is a helping verb. It helps because
filled isn't a full verb. Can's what our owns
in "Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz."
See? There's almost nothing to it. Just
memorize these rules...or write them down!
A noun's a thing, a verb's the thing it does.
The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz.
poem by Steve Kowit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alphabet Spaces
In my mind rambles
ideas which seek to unscramble
and grant me crystal clear consistency
but the more I try to wrangle
ideas about Physics and Religion
the more they metamorphosize
into same and similar.
The more I learn about anything
the less I know about the whole
of any and all disciplines;
so I succumb to debates about
T's and I's
while forgetting my alphabet.
For example, if I take my own name
and examine it minutely,
space and letter
nano-space by nano-space
I cannot ever
see a whole word or letter.
Therefore, I come away nameless and confused.
So if I wish to learn the whole
of any disciple or subject-area
I have learned
best not to get too smart about
the spaces between the alphabets.
Yet, and this my conundrum, no letter
is ever apparent
unless there are spaces between Alpha and Omega.
So, too, music is a relationship between the sound and the silences-
too much music or sound is ultimately just noise or silence.
So in my mind rambles all these inconsistencies-
what about yours?
So we have the letters of an alphabet, and the spaces in between the letters
which are necessary to understand the words they form and from these empty spaces in between, much like silence and sound form music.
From this relationship we form the words and ultimately sentences, but note sentences alone do not form coherent paragraphs or pages for that matter and ultimately a book.
So what is the moral here? Pay attention to the background as well as the foreground, the seen and unseen since only from these relationships can we glean, true meaning:
too much concentration on the latter, and we miss the meaning embedded in the former.
True creativity means we are versatile in both and it is also the perfect metaphor for the differences and similarities between Science and Religion.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
After the verb 'to Love,' 'to Help' is the most beautiful verb in the world.
quote by Bertha von Suttner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Hardheaded Young Poet
this morning he finds the last line
he decided to put the last word
there is no period and the image is that of a verb
this push and pull without restraint
the yin and yang and the moon and sun
i suggest another thing perhaps another verb
like a flowing river
a falling rain
but he said he has decided to put what may sound at most
pornographic
i embrace silence since i know what a poet is
this hardheaded creature who makes the walls and doors of stones
and roofs with all the Spanish tiles
sometimes i wonder if hearts can be made of platinum too
for mine is as red as bricks
with wires as veins
and chest like steel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Was Born To Love You (Mercury)
I WAS BORN TO LOVE YOU
WITH EVERY SINGLE BEAT OF MY HEART
YES, I WAS BORN TO TAKE CARE OF YOU
EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE
I WAS BORN TO LOVE YOU...
YOU ARE THE ONE FOR ME
I AM THE MAN FOR YOU
YOU WERE MADE FOR ME
YOURE MY ECSTASY
IF I WAS GIVEN EVERY OPPORTUNITY
ID KILL FOR YOUR LOVE
SO TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME
LET ME ROMANCE WITH YOU
IM CAUGHT IN A DREAM
AND MY DREAMS COME TRUE
ITS HARD TO BELIEVE
THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME
AN AMAZING FEELING
COMIN THROUGH
I WAS BORN TO LOVE YOU...
I WANNA LOVE YOU
I LOVE EVERY LITTLE THING ABOUT YOU
I WANNA LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU
BORN TO LOVE YOU
BORN TO LOVE YOU
YES, I WAS BORN TO LOVE YOU
BORN TO LOVE YOU
BORN TO LOVE YOU
EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE
I WAS BORN TO TAKE CARE OF YOU
EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Born with Pride
Born with pride
When she was born,
She never cried
Born with dreams
Pretty eyes open wide
Born without tears
No lies to seek or hide
Born without fears,
On her beautiful little mind
Born to live
to love to give
To suffer to loose
Everything
Born with pride
Died in vain
Agony and pain
Hurt and shame
The lady had died
Her baby was born
With no pride
And with nothing
On his side
poem by Mitwaly Osman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Out of the…is Born a …
Out of the mire is born a gorgeous flower;
Out of the noise is born a dead silence;
Out of the storm is born, calm!
Out of the strife is born a pleasant life;
Out of the filth is born flora, fauna;
Out of the chaos is born clarity.
Out of the exercise is born a healthy body;
Out of the training is born wisdom;
Out of the learning is born a scholar!
Out of the confession is born a soul afilled with grace;
Out of the Holy Book is born the word of God;
Out of the prayers is born answers from God!
Out of the rain is born the verdure shoots;
Out of the sun is born the growing plants;
Out of the dawn is born a lovely day;
Out of the dusk is born a quiet night!
Out of the hunger is born an appetite;
Out of the dainty food is born satiety;
Out of the wine is born inebriety.
Out of the fasting is born controlled senses;
Out of the inhibition is born a civilized person;
Out of the nature’s furies is born forbearance;
Out of the war is born a newer peace.
Out of the mistakes done is born a new resolve;
Out of the struggle is born a long-lasting freedom;
Out of the perseverance is born an accomplishment.
Out of the light is born a new day on earth;
Out of the night is born a starry sky;
Out of the dark clouds is born an aureole moon.
Out of the boredom is born a life of joy;
Out of the trials, travail is born a mind of steel;
Out of the woes is born a content heart!
Out of the parent’s love is born a loving child;
Out of the love of God is born forgiveness of sins;
Out of the mercy of God is born a soul for heaven!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Born In The 50s
We were born
Born in the fifties
My mother cried
When president kennedy died
She said it was the communists
But I knew better
Would they drop the bomb on us
While we made love on the beach
We were the class they couldnt teach
cos we knew better
We were born
Born in the fifties
They screamed
When the beatles sang
And they laughed when the king fell down the stars
O they shouldve known better
O we hated our aunt
Then we messed in our pants
Then we lost our faith and prayed to the tv
O we shouldve known better
We were born
Born in the fifties
We freeze like statues on the pages of history
Living was never like this when we took all those gces
O you opened the door for us
And then you turned to dust
You dont understand us
So dont reprimand us
Were taking the future
We dont need no teacher
We were born
Born in the fifties
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Was Born To Love You
I was born to love you
With every single beat of my heart
Yes, I was born to take care of you
Every single day...
(chorus:)
I was born to love you
With every single beat of my heart
Yes, I was born to take care of you
Every single day of my life
You are the one for me
I am the man for you
You were made for me
Youre my ecstasy
If I was given every opportunity
Id kill for your love
So take a chance with me
Let me romance with you
Im caught in a dream
And my dreams come true
Its so hard to believe
This is happening to me
An amazing feeling
Coming through -
(chorus)
I wanna love you
I love every little thing about you
I wanna love you, love you, love you
Born - to love you
Born - to love you
Yes I was born to love you
Born - to love you
Born - to love you
Every single day - of my life
An amazing feeling
Comin through
(chorus)
Yes I was born to love you
Every single day of my life
Go, I love you babe
Yes, I was born to love you
I wanna love you, love you, love you
I wanna love you
I get so lonely, lonely, lonely
Yeah, I want to love you
Yeah, give it to me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!