I am a verse chiseled in the stone of silence
A millstone spinning the wheels that grinds
A chiseled myself solid and painful
A flat pebble slapping
A peaceful water surface
Looking for a bottom a bird to become
Destruction of a verse built within the walls
Written over by the graffiti of nonsense
The unwalk of words on terraces put
Trodden by the innocent ignorance
Stoned by thought stood by paper
Whiteness that forgives everything
Too strong no one has killed me yet
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
For Once, Then, Something
Others taught me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths--and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
poem by Robert Frost
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A poem song
My love is built on solid rock
My love is built on solid rock
My love is built on solid rock
All other love is sinking love
My love is built on solid rock
The eagle bird is flying through
The royal bird is flying through
The golden bird is beautiful
My love for you is standing sure
My love is built on solid rock
poem by Olayemi Ayo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walls
Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.
Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.
Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.
Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.
Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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And It Stoned Me
Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain keep pourin' down
Me and Billy standin' there
With a silver half a crown
Hands are full of a fishin' rod
And the tackle on our backs
We just stood there gettin' wet
With our backs against the fence
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Hope it don't rain all day
Chorus:
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like Jelly Roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin' home
And it stoned me
Then the rain let up and the sun came up
And we were gettin' dry
Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by
So we jumped right in and the driver grinned
And he dropped us up the road
We looked at the swim and we jumped right in
Not to mention fishing poles
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me
Chorus
On the way back home we sang a song
But our throats were getting dry
Then we saw the man from across the road
With the sunshine in his eyes
Well he lived all alone in his own little home
With a great big gallon jar
There were bottles too, one for me and you
And he said Hey! There you are
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Get it myself from the mountain stream
Chorus
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Stoned Me
Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain keep pourin down
Me and billy standin there
With a silver half a crown
Hands are full of a fishin rod
And the tackle on our backs
We just stood there gettin wet
With our backs against the fence
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Hope it dont rain all day
Chorus:
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like jelly roll
And it stoned me
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin home
And it stoned me
Then the rain let up and the sun came up
And we were gettin dry
Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by
So we jumped right in and the driver grinned
And he dropped us up the road
We looked at the swim and we jumped right in
Not to mention fishing poles
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Let it run all over me
Chorus
On the way back home we sang a song
But our throats were getting dry
Then we saw the man from across the road
With the sunshine in his eyes
Well he lived all alone in his own little home
With a great big gallon jar
There were bottles too, one for me and you
And he said hey! there you are
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Oh, the water
Get it myself from the mountain stream
Chorus
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slider
Show me how to get home
Throw me like a stone
Show me how to get home
You love to watch me crawl
Home, just get me home, home, home
Stoned, cause I feel so stoned, oh no
Went to church one day
Repent my evil ways
I heard a voice call down
His words of wisdom sang
Home, just get me home, home, home
Stoned, cause I feel so stoned, oh no
Got this feeling inside my head
I'm spinning out of my ferris wheel red
Feels like home, it feels like home...
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words on paper
Words on paper
~
Just words on paper
Where a story is told
An emotion revealed
Or a love laid to rest
Where a dream begins
An ambition is spoken
Perhaps a whim of fancy
Takes charge of the pen
To write what is written
Letters forming words
Shapley and beautiful
Expressions of a soul
Or a mind at play
There across the page
Words on paper
Written to have their say
poem by Matthew Holloway
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A WayFarer
The cliffs are the edges of paper--
That time has torn away...
Eroded rock-solid paper...
Jagged reminders of yesterday;
Once a diary of stone-hearted entries--
Surfaced as hardened clay...
But worn away from the Springtime downpours...
And collapsed in Wayfarers Bay;
Pages and pages of dogeared cliffs...
Hanging with no support in mid air...
Rock solid words of our ending---
Oh, the stories the sailors do bear;
Longings from eternities upon the ocean...
Needs that we all have been known to share...
Are written upon the cliffs of yesterday---
Eroded in rock solid despair;
The Essence
July,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Calender Day 1
It's a silent night and half a truth. The edges of thought lightly touched by the Moon. It's a thick darkness I feed with the light of the letters, an aureole of the written among the walls the whispers slipping between the words and the body prostrated before the soul. From my altar like window the bidrs are flying up towards the arches upwards into an all held within manner built beneath the limits of the human craving.
...and half a dream. In another one there's an eye sighting into the gap and each step is light when there is no bottom. The space is answered in time and the time is wondered at in space about the meaning of standing and duration. The black sky spells out the stars the signs of its counting and I am but one of them. Sometimes the reflection answered in the surface of the water by the depth in which my own countenance is reflected and the edges of my shadow. Sometimes it's nothing as an always a good place to start a journey.
...and half a touch. It moves with its fingers the quiver of an early storm that will grow into slapping the boughs, the first dropp of rain will flood the streets now trodden by a silent night.
...and half a smile. Built within a tear and all made of hope. That smiles the night.
Тиха је ноћ и пола истине. Тек Мјесецом дотакнути рубови мисли. Мисле ме. Појим густе тмине свјетлом слова, ореол исписаног међу зидовима, шапат поклеко између ријечи и тијело сопствено пред душу стављам. Са мог прозора као са олтара узлијећу птице ка сводовима горе сведржитељно изграђеног под међама људског хтијења.
...и пола сна. Другом око снатри у јаз и лак је сваки корак када нема дна. Простор одговорен временом и вријеме простором упитано о смислу стајања и трајања. Небо црно изриче звијезде знаке свог бројања и ја сам само једна од њих. Понекад површином воде одговорен одсјај дубина у којим се огледа и мој лик и рубови моје сјени. Понекад ништа од којег креће сваки добар пут.
...и пола додира. Он прстима покреће први дрхтај олује што ће прерасти у љуто шамарање грања, прва кап кише што ће поплавити улице којом хода сада тиха ноћ.
...и пола осмјеха. Сазданог у сузи и од наде сав. Осмјехује ноћ.
©Мирослава Одаловић
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Shore Leave Ornithology
Slacks, coffee trend
I could have been in the us navy
Flapping grey, coffee smoke
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Where the hell were you?
Rough stencil, print music
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard coffee
Saxophone mention barbers, n.y.
The cigarette was burning, the flat shoes
Stool
Bongo, coffee, don't mention that black man
The leather-coat was his
Where was she?
Could have been in the us navy
Flow beating air, table-top, shoulder slung
Shore leave, no sailors here
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard
Liquor slacks twisting
The cigarette was burning
The flat shoes, the flat shoes, the flat shoes
Bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The closer the bird is to the surface of the water, the firmer and more inelastic is the uplift of the rising air. The bird appears to almost feel the surface with the tip of its weather wing.
quote by Lawrence Hargrave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have you seen those desert eyes
Surely some burns breathed out the heat
Sun turning wheels clocks spinning sand
Sand storm slides made of desert clouds
Ending up in a single moment standing still
When eventually unnaturally nothing you think
Will ever eve morn move on
The desert of the Spiritus Movens
Motionless burnt in a beheaded lion roar
The carcasses flying above
I’d like to think something is going to happen you thought
But for this handy sky
Written up by too many hands
But for this sandy outpour
Slapping the holes of the storms
To force the snakes into their endless winding
I’d like to think something
But for these winged deceptions
Stuffed birds hunting up and down
Is eventually going to happen
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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In water tray (dectina refrain)
Look
at the
bird splashing
in the water,
in clear rainwater,
bathing while slapping wings,
chattering telling others
how nice it is to be washing,
inviting them nearer, splashing them wet.
Look at the bird splashing in the water.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nowheresville
I wanna see paris
Insane on the sine
I wanna do that bull run thin in spain
I wanna go to england
And walk down penny lane
Half a pint an island
May wash away my pain
Im stuck in mud
Spinning my wheels
And Im all alone
On the road
To nowheresville
I wanna meet a little girl
With french horn lips
And introduce her to my trip
Ill make her smile on the nile
Hold her hand in japan
But last things first for all my plans
Im stuck in mud
Spinning my wheels
And Im all alone
On the road
To nowheresville
Im on my way
Im almost nowhere
Im almost everything I swore Id never be
When I get there
Then Ill go somehwere
Im going to pay my last repsects and get the
Hell out of there
Out of nowhere
Im stuck in mud
Spinning my wheels
And Im all alone
On the road
To nowheresville
Spinning my wheels
And Im all alone on the road to nowheresville
Nowheresville
Nowheresville
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dog Life
It`s too painful to continue this dog life,
for all the doghouse walls are like the edge of knife, he had thought.
A collard hound prowling around a cruel, immortal millstone,
-rounding by an old dogmatic dog in the manger-
Looking for daily bread and far-fetching collar string,
-a pre-existent, invisible and really inflexible string-
Was dogging his doggish days down the drain.
The dog-tired dog while his dogs were barking,
Couldn`t hunt, neither the bread nor the string.
Submerged and completly deaf and blind,
Under the shady shadow of dogged millstone,
He was willingly barking his last barks,
While vomiting his former-life, by his own string.
His barks let sleeping dog lie, while
He can`t rememberhis putrid nightmare…
Even the vultures, having dogfight above it,
Don`t ask for whom the bells toll at night;
And I am still gazing at the poor pointer forget to breath,
Stopped on at eleven, at rest…
poem by Mahdi Karimi
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I Am Folding This White Paper
i am folding this paper
the way you want it
to every corner i give my sigh
in my mind
the paper shall be this bird
you want it to be
my friend, you always dream
of flight
and this paper soon shall
be what you want
to be
a bird with strong wings
gathering winds
taking in the big storm
today it is finished
and you shall take it
then in your wildest dreams
added in the layers of your
years
you shall fly away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Silence Between
the silence between
words being written and read
seduces the mind to think
thoughts of creation anticipate
the blank canvas of the mind
which mirrors the open soul
calling out to listen
to the sound of pen upon paper
a mind at work
is a beautiful thing
and in writing seductive
words flow into sentence
a verse crafts itself
to be seen, felt
all in the aftermath
of the silence between
words being written
words being read
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Into White
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice
Tables of paper wood, windows of light
And everything emptying into white.
A simple garden, with acres of sky
A brown-haired dogmouse
If one dropped by
Yellow delanie would sleep well at night
With everything emptying into white.
A sad blue eyed drummer rehearses outside
A black spider dancing on top of his eye
Red legged chicken stands ready to strike
And everything emptying into white.
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice...
And everything emptying into white
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World
Love built a stately house, where Fortune came,
And spinning fancies, she was heard to say
That her fine cobwebs did support the frame,
Whereas they were supported by the same;
But Wisdom quickly swept them all away.
The Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion,
Began to make balconies, terraces,
Till she had weakened all by alteration;
But reverend laws, and many a proclomation
Reforméd all at length with menaces.
Then entered Sin, and with that sycamore
Whose leaves first sheltered man from drought and dew,
Working and winding slily evermore,
The inward walls and summers cleft and tore;
But Grace shored these, and cut that as it grew.
Then Sin combined with death in a firm band,
To raze the building to the very floor;
Which they effected,--none could them withstand;
But Love and Grace took Glory by the hand,
And built a braver palace than before.
poem by George Herbert
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