The Poem That Failed
There is a place where significance ends -
that is the place where the metaphors tire
and the similes dimmily fail to inspire
and the poem runs out in a meaningless flood
but the poet won’t give up and declare it a dud
for the critics they spot and the readers they know,
you can get up and go, it’s the end of the show…for
there is the place where significance ends.
poem by Michael Shepherd

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The Place Where The Rainbow Ends
THERE'S a fabulous story
Full of splendor and glory,
That Arabian legends transcends;
Of the wealth without measure,
The coffers of treasure,
At the place where the rainbow ends.
Oh, many have sought it,
And all would have bought it,
With the blood we so recklessly spend;
But none has uncovered,
The gold, nor discovered
The spot at the rainbow's end.
They have sought it in battle,
And e'en where the rattle
Of dice with man's blasphemy blends;
But howe'er persuasive,
It still proves evasive,
This place where the rainbow ends.
I own for my pleasure,
I yearn not for treasure,
Though gold has a power it lends;
And I have a notion,
To find without motion,
The place where the rainbow ends.
The pot may hold pottage,
The place be a cottage,
That a humble contentment defends,
Only joy fills its coffer,
But spite of the scoffer,
There's the place where the rainbow ends.
Where care shall be quiet,
And love shall run riot,
And I shall find wealth in my friends;
Then truce to the story,
Of riches and glory;
There's the place where the rainbow ends.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Substance Fades
It is done quite simply!
To reduce an influence,
And significance...
Advocate the importance,
Of ignorance.
And market this as the latest fad.
With a witnessing of this,
As a rage no one can resist!
That's how influence,
And a significance that benefits...
Begins to slowly diminish in effectiveness.
With a substance that ends as an aging of it,
Fading away...
To become replaced by mediocrity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Urgent Revisiting Of It
If 'that' which should have been in place,
Is not and slips away.
Because of a hesitating procrastination,
With excuses prioriticized and made!
A rushing done today,
That should have taken time...
Those days before yesterday.
Can be thought of opportunities,
That came and faded to be erased.
There is nothing that will be done tomorrow,
With a necessity that comes...
That allows one to chase.
It just silences the support,
For the significance of importance!
And a significance that drifts,
Can be revived...
With an insistence that invites,
The urgent revisiting of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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End Of The Road
Where the road ends
There another begins
And the place where one last breathes
There again is the first of breathes heard
A century lived
And my fifth generation seen
My path in this place ends
And here I wait lost in reflections
What did I do with my life I ask
From this none could ever flee
In no time before my saviour stand
poem by Nicholas Boateng

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Is it a poem
Is it a poem
You are asking
And I am telling
If it is not poem
What is then.
Do you know
What poem means
The four letter
Poem stands
P- personal
o-optional
e-eternal
m-maternal .
Poem originate
From mother
And it never ends
Poem can be written
As per the will
As ordered
No grammer can
Give direction to poet
Poem is poet's personal
Property and its
Value is universal.
2
poem never dies
No water no fire
No air can destroy poem
No earth no sky
can entrap
Poem is above and beyond
Five elements of world
Poem is eternal.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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Odds And Ends (1)
by Bob Dylan
I plan it all and I take my place
You break your promise all over the place
You promised to love me, but what do I see
Just you comin' and spillin' juice over me
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
Now, you take your file and you bend my head
I never can remember anything that you said
You promised to love me, but what do I know
You're always spillin' juice on me like you got someplace to go
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
Now, I've had enough, my box is clean
You know what I'm sayin' and you know what I mean
From now on you'd best get on someone else
While you're doin' it, keep that juice to yourself
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where The Sidewalk Ends
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know,
the place where the sidewalk ends.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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A Home
no matter what there is
always a place called home
at least you finally decide
to call it that way,
you have been away from
this home
for many years
those were the years of the
struggle of
what you are and what they think you are
which is the place
and this is not where
you want to die
you want to live somewhere else
though you do not really know
where
but it has always been a dream
of somewhere
a house by the river
a place where hills grown into
mountains
your hair turns white
and ankles ache and names become
haze and places become
smoky
you stop, right here, you declare
this is home
this moment when you do not
give yourself the right to choose anymore
it is here
right here
you place yourself like a backpack
and mark a spot with
your bamboo cane
and then
you claim the right to be here
your home
yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Home (revised)
no matter what there is
always a place called home
at least you finally decide
to call it that way,
you have been away from
this home
for many years
those were the years of the
struggle of
what you are and what they think you are
which is the place
and this is not where
you want to die
you want to live somewhere else
though you do not really know
where
but it has always been a dream
of somewhere
a house by the river
a place where hills grow into
mountains
your hair turns white
and ankles ache and names become
hazy and places become
smoky
you stop, right here, you declare
this is home
this moment when you do not
give yourself the right to choose anymore
it is here
right here
you place yourself like a backpack
and mark a spot with
your bamboo cane
and then
you claim the right to be here
your home
yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Odds & Ends
I plan it all and I take my place
You break your promise all over the place
You promised to love me, but what do I see
Just you comin and spillin juice over me
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
Now, you take your file and you bend my head
I never can remember anything that you said
You promised to love me, but what do I know
Youre always spillin juice on me like you got someplace to go
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
Now, Ive had enough, my box is clean
You know what Im sayin and you know what I mean
From now on youd best get on someone else
While youre doin it, keep that juice to yourself
Odds and ends, odds and ends
Lost time is not found again
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Carousel
Spotlights are roaming
The show will begin
I had never thought
But dont give my circus away
I hope it ends before you know me
Ive lost it completely
My faith is lost again Id say
Im tired of this place and I want to go
Riding my carousel
They can never tell
Im spinning and turning
Always revolving
You should have seen it
Where were you?
I needed a stage
To walk all over you
Thats better
Im throwing my three ring away
And I can hear you say
Im tired of this place
Im tired of this place and then I think of
Riding my carousel
They can never tell
Close all of the doors
Lock me away
Im happy Im here
So let me stay
song performed by by Finger Eleven

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Whose Meaning The Poet Does Not Know
A POEM WHOSE MEANING THE POET DOES NOT KNOW
A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Is a question only its readers can answer.
But if in the silence of endless absence
There are no readers
A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Becomes a poem which does not exist.
And a poem which does not exist
Is not the poem the poet dreamed
When he heard in the night or the early morning
That rush of music that sequence of sounds
Which seemed to say more than he would ever understand
As he wrote it down in haste
For fear it somehow would be lost.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Bag
Endless evenings of non-exist
Are getting shorter, monotonous
Like an intruder, I belong outside
Although I find myself right back
The same place I was before
Saying things Id say once more
Theres no reason for me to be here, no
I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends
Who are talking about me, saying things I could care less about
This dialogue is without
Worth, content, significance
Conversational ambivalence
Hear the same things every night, it just aint right
Im not the one to hold the bag
Give me something I can sink my teeth into
Show me a time, tell me a story
That I havent heard a million times before
I pass out from boredom
As I watch the people pass
I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating
Are we all living for the past, never realizing
Were clinging to an empty bag
Lacking content, significance
Conversational ambivalence
Say the same thing every night, it just aint right
Well see whos left holding the bag
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Places To Inspire
There are places in this world,
that when you are there inspire
you to do things
associated with that place.
Some are artistic and others of prayer.
I have been to both
and the validity of those words I can swear.
Once I went to Knock
the most holy place in Ireland.
A place where serenity
hangs over everything.
A feeling of something beautiful
comes over you.
That you never want to leave.
Another place is Stratford,
the birthplace of the bard.
Any would be poet,
can’t help to be inspired there.
It has to be something in the air.
Words just keep forming lines in your head,
and urge you to write them down.
Therefore, you feed your compulsion
and a new poem is found.
So if you are feeling,
the need to write, but can’t.
Go to Stratford on Avon,
and change the situation around.
You will find yourself inspired,
under the eyes of the bard,
when you follow the Shakespeare way.
2 June 2007
poem by David Harris

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A Journey Of A Poet
A journey begins with
A thought in our mind
Words are chosen and formed.
Lines of poem
Well Written with meanings
With words of emotions and expressions
A poet starts with
An inspiration of mind,
An aspiration in soul mind
With reflection
On our life experience
We start to
Compose some
Wonderful poetry
Expressing our innermost thoughts
With deep contemplation
To put them in poetry words
A journey begins when
A poet takes his imagination
To a place where
No one ever dream or imagine before.
A poet's journey ends by
Writing another lovely poem
And deep reflection
A poet remains
As a poet
When he or she
Continue to
Write and Share
lovely poems with the world.
poem by Lawrence Hiung

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Similes
Similes are employed to show one’s skills
And to treat the readers as ignorant
In knowing without the aid of similes.
Must we write her hair is as black as coal?
24.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Brothers
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Here we are
Late in the hours that start another day
Here am i
Skirting around what I really want to say
Brothers
Well they hold a place in your heart
Theyre something apart
But then...
Lovers...
Well thats a different thing to talk about
All this world
You know Id give you my love - if there were more
But these words
Cover the roads that weve walked so long before
Thats another feeling
Thats a different story
When weve really nowhere to start
Thats another feeling
Thats another place in your heart - when I say brothers
Weve got really nowhere to start
Thats another feeling
Thats a different story
Theyre simply just two worlds apart
Thats another feeling
Thats another place in my heart - when I say brothers
When ever we two get talking about love
It always ends up
Ends up in tears
I would have thought by now youd know me
So please stop cryin
And wasting those tears
song performed by by Kim Wilde

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The establishment of a law, moreover, does not take place when the first thought of it takes form, or even when its significance is recognised, but only when it has been confirmed by the results of the experiment.
quote by Dmitri Mendeleev

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Day in My Place
Goodbye, my place
Goodbye, my teenage days
I'll be back when June ends
I'll smile to see your face
Everyday you take me up
Let everything just roll
Make everywhere I feel like home
Maybe I never thought that I know you
I always just come and go
When the day is coming
I just know that I can't leaving
Even I can't change it
But I have to sing it
Not for me
It's for you
Goodbye, my place
Goodbye, my teenage days
I'll be back when June ends
I'll smile to see your face
Now I'm singing for all of this
The last day in my place
God loves you
And O.A love you too
Nobody abandons you
When 11 month was gone
I know you're the only one I've to come
You will never feel alone
Goodbye, my friend
poem by Old Amsterdam

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Clubwich: An Art Experience
lay the lettuce on the plate first
that damps down the sound
of the iceberg lettuce which can
disturb hearing aids
if you’re into fartsy additional veg
chop them up small and sprinkle
it saves the whole edifice deconstructing
when you take the pin out
then a slice say an inch thick
of wholemeal bread which
you’ve soaked in olive oil and lemon juice
and rubbed garlic across as if
you were ironing the curtains
of a dolls’ house
then throw the half-tin of tuna
or the salmon you’ve just caught
on the top since after all
that’s what you want to taste
so put it out front stage
and cover it with mayonnaise
bet you’re drooling at this point
maybe looking at your watch
then eat while looking at
a reproduction of a reproduction
of Andy Warhol’s priceless screenprint
of a Campbell’s soup tin
gratitude may arise
sheer poetry
simple sensual immediate
self-expression clearly communicated
practical copy it in your faves
slip it in your Pulitzer Christmas Cracker
in place of the joke did I say joke since it
touches the heart touches all our lives
and for once you’ve read
right to the end of a poem haven’t you and
I bet you’ll remember it longer than
the thirteenth verse of the Ancient Mariner
similes metaphors you want
similes and metaphors supply your own then
they’ll be fresher than mine and
more spontaneous more relevant
yes that’s what I call a real poem
poem by Michael Shepherd

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