Poetic Places
Poetic places of the soul
hide me, confide me and abide me
though I am not
as they seem to think I am
not what I was before.
And the dark places cover and conceal
and serve to heal.
A shining truth
that never was
and always will be
my abiding and hiding
poetic soul.
poem by Meli Secret
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Soul Dance
I will dance with you
It will be the dance of my soul
I will be open and honest
Show you my inner being
I will trust you
Take you to places in my soul that have been broken and restored
Places that cause pain and healing
Places that have hated and loved
Places I have forgotten and remembered
Places I have not visited in a long time and places I go every day
I will dance with you the dance of my soul
And feel your soul dance with mine to those same places in yours
poem by Mandi Ducroq
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pilgrims of the soul
Pilgrims of the soul
Poets' journey through body to soul,
It has no scope for a double role;
A common platform PH provides,
All colors and creeds in One confide.
All of us are on a pilgrimage,
Different countries, variant age;
We all come here with our tales,
One another with bliss regale.
We are the pilgrims of the soul,
In One Soul our bodies roll.
* A rejoinder to Meggie Gultiano’s MY POETIC JOURNEY.
poem by C.P. Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Pen Gone Dry
Barren fields…empty places
Mind devoid of idea and rhyme
Sterile imagination…featureless faces
Webs in memories, frozen in time
Fingers flaccid, mind unwilling
Heavy lies this heart of mine
Creative forces not fulfilling
Empty flask of poetic wine
Dried up source of poetic spring
Used up store of poetic phrases
Emptied purse with untied string
Like worn out shoes and old frayed laces
Time away… might grow the field
Time away… might fill the empty places
Perhaps time will let the emptiness yield
To imagination…and full featured faces
Now...inkwell empty
Tear in eye
Pristine paper
Pen... gone dry...
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Caught
As a child,
I remember the first time...
Playing hide-and-seek.
Peeking to duck.
That's all I knew to do.
I didn't want to be the one caught.
I thought my hiding places could not be seen.
With a thinking everything I said,
And where I could be would be believed.
I was a child and a child occupied my head.
And I would lie as I hid from others to hide.
But as a child I had no idea,
My attempts to fool and deceive...
Others much older than me already did.
It was as if I had been a plate of unclouded glass.
Hiding.
But everywhere I sought to hide...
Eventually I was caught.
I thought my hiding places could not be seen.
With a thinking everything I said,
And where I could be would be believed.
Until it dawned on me when I got older...
I was no longer a child seeking hiding places sought.
And I grew tired of that as I matured.
Tired I grew...
Of getting caught.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White Powder Bullets
Rain,
We dream of rain
To wet the dreams we have,
Quench the pulsing heat
Wash away the footsteps,
Cleanse the spent metal jackets,
Clean dirty hands and sore eyes,
To break the dust.
Hand out the powder bullets
To those who we don’t mind dead,
Paper says what we want
While they shoot themselves in the head.
Hide it in the headlines
Of places big and tall,
Hide it in the faces
Of those that tell us all,
Hide it in the places
You never thought you’d go,
Hide it in the beauty
Of places your not meant to know.
Rain,
We dreamt of rain
To cover what we made,
To cover what we keep
We dreamt of rain to clean us,
Rain,
We dreamt of rain.
poem by Stuart Doggett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Abide and Abide and Better Abide
I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
'Let me alone and I will provide.'
I abide and abide and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway,
Nother obtaining nor yet denied.
Ay me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth,
A prolonging of a dying death,
Or a refusing of a desir'd thing.
Much were it better for to be plain
Than to say 'abide' and yet shall not obtain.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Abide and Abide and Better Abide
I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
'Let me alone and I will provide.'
I abide and abide and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway,
Nother obtaining nor yet denied.
Ay me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth,
A prolonging of a dying death,
Or a refusing of a desir'd thing.
Much were it better for to be plain
Than to say 'abide' and yet shall not obtain.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Selling a Poets Mind
Devoted to writing the words of poetic inspiration
I offer my mind as soul payment
Some say it’s a madness of strange conception
I claim a quiet misunderstanding
To follow each emotion with such intent
Expressing and expanding beyond reason
That I may flower in bloom a thought
Far beyond its own conception
I whore out my heart to illustrations
To better depict that which I seek to serve
A flow of endless poetic verse
Seemingly I have become detached
From a world I may never have knew
And so in my indifference
Some say I carry a strange madness
Perhaps I do, perhaps I do
For I am devoted to writing the words
Of poetic and beautiful inspiration
If my mind is the fee of creation
Then to poetry I shall cash in
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Abide and Abide and Better Abide
I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
"Let me alone and I will provide."
I abide and abide and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway,
Nother obtaining nor yet denied.
Ay me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth,
A prolonging of a dying death,
Or a refusing of a desir'd thing.
Much were it better for to be plain
Than to say "abide" and yet shall not obtain.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Ones Unaware
There is no sense in hiding.
What does one hide?
And from whom?
Formulated identities,
Are what they are.
And this people see.
What is hidden is not invisible.
An obviousness is there.
The only ones in hiding,
Are the ones unaware!
There is no sense in hiding.
What does one hide?
And from whom?
Misdeeds done...
Eventually come to bloom.
For all to see.
From those places no longer assumed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Poetic Justice/ Mi Justicia Poeta 09
My Poetic Justice Will Prevail (2008)
I try to solve our inequities
maybe were just on different planes
you creating flaws in my symetry
I say it's you maybe it's really me
I can't give up, I can't give in
It's like my soul's in sin
I truly love the way you make me face
my complexities
it's been a postpartum of my meloncholy
and I give birth to creativity
and rhythm of reality
lyrics of truth
you deliver me in your sermon
Now only time can tell
but my Poetic Justice will prevail.
s.l.z.08
L
poem by Sonia Zamorano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something so ordinary can be poetic
Something like
NO PARKING
Is poetic to me
You are a soul
Lost to this
Town of indifference
And you have
Been roaming
Around in your
Old car of a
Soul and you
Want to rest
And think
And what they
Say is
NO PARKING
That is actually
Poetic
Or shall we say
THIS WAY TO THE RESTROOM
Oh that is really
Poetic signifying
Relief that in this country
There still exists A WAY TO
A way a path a footpath
for someone lost
someone wanting to empty
Himself like a heavy cloud
Wanting to empty
Its accumulating heaviness
Like your urinary bladder
Looking for a restroom and
Oh heavens
This is the way to the rest room
This is the way to the heavens
Where I can just
Have the freedom of pursuing my happiness
Of a simple poetic pee
So this way to the rest room
Is a feeling of relief
It is a feeling of relief and poetry is just like that
You look for a way to unburden yourself
A way to this and that of relieving your
Urinary bladder your poetic urinary bladder
Discharging a discomfort
A heaviness of unwanted liquids
Which you have accumulated
In time
And you hold your thing in the manner that you
Want it held and in the process that you want it done
Without anybody looking
Without anybody saying you this is the proper way to pee
And no other else that can make your pee wholesome
To prescribed rules
And you point it to the big basin of a bowl
You pee
You have just discharged a discomfort
With all the images of
THIS WAY PLEASE TO THE COMFORT ROOM
To your comfort zone
Because you have been in such a discomforting fit
In complete release
You feel relief
And that to me is very poetic
THIS WAY TO THE COMFORT ROOM PLEASE
when all you want in life is to pee
On that instance
that moment is the best poetry
To the lines and verses of a person
simply peeing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A nice way
I wish I can find you and share
no matter where you stand and go where
it is nicest way to fall in line
it may look sound and fine
With all her glittery smile
i loose sense for a while
I have yet to see and cover the miles
Among all truth and lies
how deeply i feel the pulse?
i had all love and no curse
it did touch my wounds and nurse
i could see the clear course
i loved you for simple reason
i never cared for any season
I saw poetic soul in you
it impressed me and is very true
Moon offered me silver lines
i could read it clearly between lines
there was clear message
How would be able to hide and manage?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dreams of Un-forbidden
I used to dream
Dream of places with endless skies
Dream of places with high mountains
Dream of places with low clouds
Dream of the place I am living in
But nobody dares dream here
Here is the place
Where the men have no hope
Where woman walk without a soul
Where children’s laughter
No longer bounces off the walls
This is my home
And I have no shame
Even when I roam
To the places so hidden
I wish it to be the un-forbidden
poem by Jackie Emley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry; a criticism of life under the conditions fixed for such a criticism by the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty.
quote by Matthew Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Truth is here
Truth is here in the history
In the civilisation fully
Resumed and it is a poem.
The relation we have made
With the stone with the flower
With the bird with the sky
Not ours.
The truth is in our
Poetic world ours only ours
And we move forward
In search of another world
That is purely poetic
Purely in truth
Purely in peace
Purely in harmony.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rootless
Swept away on the ebbing tide
I long to stay but I must go
my wanderlust unsatisfied.
I go where the waters flow
(I have no choice I don’t decide)
The rolling sea has much to show.
Strange places where no men abide.
The frozen lands of ice and snow
where human needs can’t be supplied.
Sunlit isles where palm trees grow.
My urgent need won’t be denied,
there’s so much that I want to know.
I have to travel to and fro.
I ride upon the restless tide.
My ever moving friendly foe.
There is no place I can hide
She’d search for me both high and low
I can’t escape though I have tried.
She’s in control and she says no.
My mistress will not be defied
When she calls me I have to go.
Swept away on the ebbing tide.
I go reluctantly although
some part of me enjoys the ride.
22-Jun-08
http: // blog.my space.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At times the four walls
At times the four walls
seems to fold in on me
and the places between
the dark and the white,
stretches the tolerance
of any soul.
Yet love and peace
and the grace
and realities of life
tries to destroy
and yet I still stand
and the Almighty
holds my hand.
It’s just the way that life is
and there are places to go
and people to meet
and every day
has the ability
to really be great.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!