Heavenly Muse 3
Heavenly Muse
Is it too much to ask
If somebody calls you psychotic
They be able to spell it?
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heavenly Muse 2
Heavenly Muse, hey,
Am I wrong to say
If somebody calls you psychotic, they
Should at least know how to spell it?
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To The Muse
Heavenly Muse
Am I wrong in insisting
If somebody calls you psychotic, that they
At least know how to spell it?
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He was a psychotic. He was a borderline psychotic. He was a terrific, sensational actor, with a magical screen presence, you couldn't keep your eyes off him, but he was paranoid. He was sure everybody was out to get him.
quote by Mark Rydell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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when the muse calls... for O. Ray who knows and understands and for Kay
when the muse calls
cut your hair
get the bleach
assume another identity
start smoking if you don't
quit if you do
drink so you don't hear her
when the muse calls
get a change of address kit
get an unlisted number
find a girl who will break your heart
mutter and ramble to yourself
while walking the streets
when the muse calls
read Zane Gray novels
listen to talk radio
watch CNN
hit your hand with a hammer
fall down stairs
DO IT DO IT NOW! !
because
if you don't
you will think of her
waves of hair
her smile
her eyes
and her laughter
you will want to write beautiful poems
you will want to get to know her
you will want to be in love
you will want to smile
and
you will smile
the smile of the damned
then you will truly be alone
and the loneliness will be to much to bear
and you will be like Samson
who'd lost his hair
blind and crying
and you will pull the temples down
over yourself.
poem by R. James Sterzinger
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I Wish I Was A Heavenly Angel
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would watch and protect mankind
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must play in my own kind
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would pray for those in sorrow
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must suffer the torment of borrow
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would worship my god day and night
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight for my own right
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would always cling to my sword
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight the pain of my fault
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would never no tiredness
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must till the land to grow in abundance
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would weep when man sin
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must pray for my own sin so dire
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would shore endlessly in space
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must check as I walk in pace
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would wonder around this world free
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must stand still as a tree
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For my heart shall always be in joy
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must behave just like a boy
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Doubt is to certainty as neurosis is to psychosis. The neurotic is in doubt and has fears about persons and things; the psychotic has convictions and makes claims about them. In short, the neurotic has problems, the psychotic has solutions.
quote by Thomas Szasz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Results Ridiculous
("Humourists have amused themselves by translating famous sonnets into free verse. A result no less ridiculous would have been obtained if somebody had re-written a passage from 'Paradise Lost' as a rondeau." --George Soule in the New Republic)
"PARADISE LOST"
Sing, Heavenly Muse, in lines that flow
More smoothly than the wandering Po,
Of man's descending from the height
Of Heaven itself, the blue, the bright,
To Hell's unutterable throe.
Of sin original and the woe
That fell upon us here below
From man's pomonic primal bite--
Sing, Heavenly Muse!
Of summer sun, of winter snow, Of future days, of long ago,
Of morning and "the shades of night,"
Of woman, "my ever new delight,"
Go to it, Muse, and put us Joe--
Sing, Heavenly Muse!
* * * * *
"THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER"
THE wedding guest sat on a stone,
He could not chose but hear
The mariner. They were there alone.
The wedding guest sat on a stone.
"I'll read you something of my own,"
Declared that mariner.
The wedding guest sat on a stone--
He could not chose but hear.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Symbiotic Wine
Language of golden liquid
She drenches my mind
Validated like a lotus rain
Music sweet as an earth religion
Idolatry in her thighs
Wet dripping thighs
Flowing streams
Misty heaven in the mountains
Can chains be pleasure?
Bridled in unconscious dreams
Deep in the masks of pleasure
Ancient leather smiles
She calls me like a spell
Poetry in dark sultry tubes
Bliss calls in her curled toes
Nerve endings filled with silk
New Muse invades my blood
The sound of wolves like joy
I am hunted by my own desire
Crystal glass over flows
Symbiotic wine gold and warm
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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For These Things
Tablets of love,
But written with ink to spell out your name;
However, it was noted and read by all.
For these things,
For this love,
And like the motives of your muse;
But with such confidence to reach your home!
Because, you are the reminder of my love;
And, i have the letters of recommendation on this muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Muse Is Free
I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Blameless
Nameless, Blamesless, fearless, worthless, nevertheless;
At the editor's desk to resport your muse,
But in the twenty-third year with your love!
For the rain came in and washed out your nakedness with joy;
And the muse of love spread allnover you.
Overnight stops,
Prescribed,
And written down in book!
But you falied to answer my calls;
And like the muse of love in the land of joy.
Rule, mule, crew, screw, few, dew, hew, dole!
Little by little and step by step;
And like noble men and women beside the common people of the land,
But blameless in the name of this war around you!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Casting A Spell
LA'-LA-E/LA-LA'-E'
Oi
Maria mondou me dizer
Maria mondou me dizer
Nao (eu) quero falar com voce
Oi
She's just testing her wings and if you give in to her, you'll be just another feather in her cap-she'll drop you in a flash.
She's casting a spell, she's casting a spell, well if she's casting a spell, I can castone as well.
So I said. "No, no, no, I ain't falling for this!
This girl is built to tease; she's only testing the efficiency of her kiss."
She's casting a spell.
Well, if she's casting a spell; I can cast one as well.
She wants to check out how you check out on her test-bed:
Will you get in her book or will you go right to her head?
She's casting a spell.
Well, if she's casting a spell; I can cast one as well.
And so, I cast it right back on her, don't you know my luck; she fell under the influence and then the thunder struck.
Now we're casting a spell, we're casting a spell-you can cast one as well!
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emell
This muse of love is like how to write a song,
This muse of care is like how to write a poem,
This muse of peace is like how to write a stroy,
This muse of joy is like how to write a book,
But, i am now delivered with the muse of your love!
Because, i now live in the land of your muse and,
You are called Emell.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Heavenly Arms
Heavenly arms reach out to hold me
Heavenly arms entice you to dance
In a world of ill will, the dancers are still
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms soft as a love song
Heavenly arms bring a kiss to your ear
In a world that seems mad, all the dancers seem sad
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Heavenly arms come to my rescue
Only a woman can love a man
In a world full of hate, love should never wait
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms strong as a sunset
Heavenly arms pure as the rain
Lovers stand warned of the worlds impending storm
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Ohhh-wohhh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, oh-woh-woh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, ohh-woh-woh
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Morrow
On your face the shadow of a transparent wound
bungles the capricious climate
of the death of a thought which you could not
carry very far.
And that was all when I asked you some questions
about life. You started opening a beehive
of kills and subcutaneous pains.
How do you spell the happiness in beliefs and
starvation to achieve the resolution or incredible?
The mistrust between the cause and effect was
surfacing, though there was plenty
of solitude between the trees and cuckoo’s
calls.A crazy spell of silence in prayers
when we were very upset about our gods.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Poet And The Baby
How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,--
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,--
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
Now, to write a sonnet, every one allows,
One must always be as quiet as a mouse;
But to write one seems to me
Quite superfluous to be,
When you 've got a little sonnet in the house.
Just a dainty little poem, true and fine,
That is full of love and life in every line,
Earnest, delicate, and sweet,
Altogether so complete
That I wonder what's the use of writing mine.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Sonnet 38:
How can my muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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My heavenly Father
My heavenly Father, I just want to thank you.
As the sunrise to proclaim the dawning of another day,
I lift my humble cry heavenward to you.
God, I thank you for blessing me in an unimaginable way.
My heavenly Father, I just want to thank you.
In spite of my many sins and numerous transgressions,
I must realize that I am blessed by you.
Through them, You taught me some valuable lessons.
My heavenly Father, I just want to thank you.
As the sunshine cascade down upon my awakening frame,
I just want to thank you, my heavenly Father.
One more day, I can rise to sing praises to your Name.
My heavenly Father, I just want to thank you.
I am divinely blessed to be in the land of the living.
I truly thank you, my heavenly Father.
I am blessed to be alive because my sins are forgiven.
poem by Reginald Walker
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Learn How To Spell
Learn how to spell.
You will do better.
You will do well.
If you just take more time...
And learn how to spell.
Don't you wish to be understood?
Knowing a comprehension...
Has been received.
In the best way an understanding...
Could be achieved.
Learn how to spell.
You will do better.
You will do well.
If you just take more time...
And learn how to spell.
It's not difficult today,
To deliver your message...
In a correct way.
Consider a dictionary as your friend.
And refer to it often.
Not just on a whim.
With a skipping of a 'now'.
And delaying a 'then'.
If you want what you say,
Leave an impact your way?
Learn how to spell.
Do that today!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Evaporating Sea
Another day finding out the tricks of angels:
My muse’s daughter is almost three:
Maybe she is almost my daughter too- as the trucks
Are loaded and loaded underneath the
Parapets of angels,
And the sacks of heavenly apples are loaded upon
The backs of stalwart ponies to be
Taken to other kingdoms across the blue and
Yellow mountains-
Along their way, the grizzly bears will pet them,
And the golden monkeys will pull on their
Reigns:
And when she gets up tomorrow, my muse will
See all of the bottles I have emptied to carry these
Messages to her
To be thrown in the evaporating sea.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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