A Lost Soul
This is still stupendous, not hardly stupid,
And so we connote for special verse to complete.
Those in stasis realise why your indignation surmounts,
Statements are being retold as perms, of stupidity.
Your celebration is a permanent magnet,
The acid needs a reactant to cast a flurry.
It is your peril, the flurry is, the flurry
Was endangering you as far as the eye has to behold.
He who ponders over the soul he has fathomed
Becomes a lost soul.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Death As Itself
Blowing in the breeze I saw Death
Upon wing like any other bird
But Death was not sing son
Death sang with a dreadful crow!
Death would perch outside my window waiting
ALWAYS waiting
Waiting outside my window
Though always quiet
As if it were listening for something, someone
then, one day, on the Eve of All Hollows
It left with a great flurry and a TERRIBLE cry
It left
Little did I know that it was I it had been waiting for
and it was I who had left in a flurry and a terrible cry
For I am Death as itself
poem by Samantha Rak
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In A Beep Beep Race
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
When I walk it's in a leisurely pace.
I want to take in every bit of a scene.
And when I walk,
I don't frown my face.
Like those in a hurry in a beep beep race.
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I have lived in a flurry of images, but I will go out in a freeze frame.
quote by Anthony Quinn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dog Years
The stones accumulate at last
and make you mellow
your public face is quite aghast,
your inner fellow
will wonder what will now become
of your resolve
as inner voices on a drum
play jazz and golf.
It's only milestones says your doc
nothing to worry,
it is not you who will take stock
and when the flurry
of plain arrythmia does arrive
it is too late.
You had such fun while still alive
my friend and mate.
And I insist to hold your hand
with all its sweat
no soul could better understand
a treasured pet.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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There was an old lady from Surrey,
Always dashing around in a flurry,
'Til she fell in the street
Breaking both of her feet
She won't do it again in a hurry.
(Written Feb/March 1995)
quote by by John Carter Brown
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An Altercation
when i step there
for the first time i know
the difference between
silence and
shutting up, that soundless scream
that only your ears
can hear and people wonder
what is happening inside
your tiny world
where you always live and
there is no
specific address
as the streets wind up to nowhere
the world is full of noise
and as you see you imagine people
as like you
all in the flurry of the winds
of disgust
and then i ask you to see the
light at the post
it is 6: 30 in the evening
and lights begin
to make a claim of their
own islands
amidst the crowd of
passers-by
i ask you once again
to listen to the clicking of the
watch inside your
heart
and try to erase the
imagined scream
i agree it is an evening
loveless in itself
there is only you
and no one else
for i am but a stone to you
in your garden
of sands
i urge you to listen
carefully and close your eyes
and open them
once again
searching for the red
color of the
longing
it is deep into the night
when trees are but
shadows
and the winds create
a stir of
falling leaves
those that last only
for the night
and i assure you
there is nothing
here but leaves
yes, leaves and
leaves
softly falling to the grass
carried by the
sounds of the flurry
of invisible wings
and i am telling you
it could be
hope dressed
like maple.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crazy Like A Sly And Special Fox
I doubt very seriously,
If he is as stupid...
As he wishes others,
To believe him to be?
'Why do you object?
He wants people to accept,
His stupidity.
He himself has admitted it.'
When was the last time you heard,
Anyone admit to being stupid?
'Maybe he is 'special'.
Or either crazy.'
Yeah!
Crazy like a sly and special fox.
With more 'wit' to dropp that's noticeable,
Than not.
'Then...
What are you saying? '
Why isn't he bothered,
That others regard him as stupid? '
No one is that 'stupidly' at peace,
With themselves.
'Well...
What you just said?
Is real stupid.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Poem To Make Emily Strong
you pack up your clothes
take on the little money you save
from your hometown
now you have come to this city
of sin
where people come and go
where friends are rare
where nights are colder even with the flurry of city lights
where faces have no eyes and ears to see you
needing help
crying
why have you come here and look for love?
there is no love here, only indifference
a little cruelty
well, perhaps to make you strong.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Here we go passing by
`
Coal-bright heat
pulsates a primal beat,
this light burns white
in the squalid night.
The windswept fury
in a drunken flurry,
toppled kerosene lamp
leaves the table damp.
Morning slips in sly,
waking the bleary eye;
pollen grain breezes
peddles raucous sneezes.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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I Return...
As I walk thru the lonely lanes,
Amongst paddies and rivers and canes,
With shower of kisses in billions,
The mother parting a few in millions.
Ye needeth, for the flurry to destiny, scripts,
Those cherished moments that time cant buy.
Crawling n brawling with innocent smile
To aping and limping in custody of guile
With dare n care unknown in style,
Surrendered thyself in destiny fragile.
Tiny droplets quivering to shine,
Reflecting the colors of rainbow in line,
Rejuvenating thoughts of yesteryear in while,
That carries the soul in wetness of Nile.
The solitary soldier fighting time,
Remembering the tune of childhood chime,
To compare the life of artificial mime,
Expecting the return of harmony, to dine.
Refreshed in shower, thy hoary mind,
To realise, destiny aint in thy hands.
Thou shall'nt travell in search of peace,
Across the hills and rivers and seas,
Find it waiting around thy knees,
To bend and accept, the time with ease.
poem by Vinod Guhaprasad
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A Campfire
There's something ‘bout a fire and the mesmerizing glow
Of its dancing, flick'ring embers that does enthrall me so
A soft and gentle fire slowly glowing in the night
Soothing, calming, warming. It is such a pure delight
The best time for a fire's when the flames they have died down
And the crackling and the popping all have ceased
All the flurry and the groaning, all the hurry and the churning
All have gone, and now the fire is at peace
poem by Neil Milliner
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Remembering November
I do remember November...
It's cool, sharp call,
The cool breeze had all but disappeared,
But the wind, it came, upon us all.
Bundled up with our ascots...
Leather gloves for our hands,
Long woolen leggings to keep them warm,
And fur lined suede boots, on which to stand.
A flurry or two is cast for the morrow...
With winds gusting, to perhaps thirty-five,
Wind chill factor of fifteen,
With a temperature, thatr could freeze a cows hide.
Ice cicle formations begin to dangle...
Hanging as decorations from midnight eaves,
The roof believes that they are ornaments,
For at christmas time, they are well received.
The sidewalks are a dangerous peril...
As the black ice, begins to form,
One mistep, without good balance,
And a broken hip, could be borne!
Enough, i say enough...
Of this folly, of ice winter chill,
Pass it along to some balmy tropic isle,
Because of this frost, we've had our fill.
Premature Winters always trouble...
Coming too early, and lasting, way too long,
Never giving Fall a chance to shine her Orange,
Or give a break, for an early, Spring Bird Song!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Soul To Soul
Someone along the way derailed your train
And Im having a real hard time
Getting any love thru your defenses
You listen to your heat but I know how well
You listen to your heart
If this is the real thing
Then I want more from you than flesh and blood
So, soul to soul
I know how it feels
Between lover to lover (were gonna be)
So, soul to soul
Like a magnet to steel
Just like lover to lover (were gonna be)
We dont make love so much
Have a bedroom crucifixion
Any love that you receive only seems to go skin deep
You lost the key, dont throw away the house
Tho I love your flesh and blood
This is the real thing
And I want more from you than skin to skin
So, soul to soul
I know how it feels
Between lover to lover (were gonna be)
So, soul to soul
Like a magnet to steel
Just like lover to lover (were gonna be)
Somewhere theres an altar she lays herself across it
And she hands me the blade but I dont, I dont stick it in
So, soul to soul and the faithful all kneel
Every sister and brother (were gonna be)
So, soul to soul and I wish it was real
Just like lover to lover (were gonna be)
And if this aint what you want
You better tell me now baby
Cause I want more from you than skin to skin
So, soul to soul
I know how it feels
Between lover to lover (were gonna be)
So, soul to soul
Like a magnet to steel
Just like lover to lover (were gonna be)
Somewhere theres an alter she lays herself across it
And she hands me the blade but I cant, I wont stick it in
So, soul to soul and the faithful will kneel
Every sister and brother (were gonna be)
So, soul to soul and I wish it was real
Just like lover to lover (were gonna be)
Soul to soul
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virgo
Ghost song's refrain in years reprise
this message sends, in candle faint glow,
that we are wraiths boarding the breeze,
stalwart and lone our soul aggrieves,
white auster foams above the bow,
the gusts play wind's notes of oboe,
homecoming ball where smiles cerise,
fromward of bright Spica Virgo.
Out yon the Princesses in dark,
transmit their laughs in cryst'l glory
life merchants send us to embark,
harmonic verdict - sirens' harp,
abstruse odd song and strange story,
our life resembles a marble quarry,
abandoned where the winds howl-bark,
when shadows pass in white flurry.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Autumn Melody
The hot summer had passed by
The cool autumn have arrived
The trees are adorned
with colors like bride
at wedding night
The swift flurry of wind
passes by greeting autumn
The trees branches
swinging in joy and ecstasy
All in heart filled harmony
The golden sun in the blue sky
send its rays to shine
on the pastures,
valleys and hamlets
You can hear the happiness
and the autumn melodies
poem by Sherif Monem
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S cool
Some are happy, many are sad, and a few are just plain mad
Classes have started, and i'm in a hurry as i try to get past the sudent flurry
Having no schedule, I hurry to my counsler, so i can find my class before the next hour
Out of the hallways, and into a classroom, but as the class starts, danger does loom, as I forgot my books in the bathroom
Over and done with, classes are none, what a great day I had it was such fun
Looking out the bus window i'd forgot what i had done, I feel dumb right now, becuase i left my homework in class 201
poem by Albert Gray
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Lives Complete
My beloved daughter came home in a flurry of
stories about feeding lambs, killing foxes and
sleeping outside on a farm in Namibia as well
as a stream of complaints about her room - I
put her trinkets away for visiting family
Her bedroom lights inexplicably won’t switch on,
her dad gets the brunt of that - I reacted like an
autistic child, my lips did not know how to smile,
listening in silence to everything she said, only
when I was alone expressing my joy
In song, singing old Dutch hymns at the top of my
voice, joy coursing through my veins, my child safe,
I rub her back and listen to her sermons about the
sanctity of her room – just the way I want it to be,
her dad changed from a wound-up spring to
Being relaxed, the smile right round his face, our
lives complete, he already lecturing her on the
year’s course, she listening with a grin, what
joy, what delight, living in a state of grace…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Depoe Bay
On Oregon coast down “101” way
Where the sea meets old lava flow
Lay a hamlet known as Depoe Bay
Where seawater geysers do blow
There’s a pub known as “Sea Hag”
Where travelers stop for cold beer
Sit by warm hearth, light up a fag
Hear din of boats from nearby pier
Music begins, bar maids do scurry
Stand in front of bottles & glasses
Beat sticks, playing with great flurry
All you will see is elbows 'n asses
Should you travel“101” one fine day
Be sure to tarry at old Depoe Bay
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Dis/enchantment?
the blemish on the moon
was made to be seen as
a patient old woman
ready to wrap me in her
white clothes smelling queerly
of old age that gave some security
or a spritely rabbit ready to jump out
just to amuse me with her flurry coat
i failed to pass on that moon
to my son whom the stars
lured into their web of reality
...all that i knew at much older age
he knew right as a teenager...
i still seek the old lady
and the fluffy rabbit up there
while he engages himself
negotiating the here and now
19nov2009
14.28hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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(Murder Poem) A Soul Stealer
It comes upon me, time and time again.
It's the grand finally my friend.
A Wicked poker game with all decadent men.
All holding out till the last minute.
Oh who's gonna win?
Is it another bluff?
Fiction or fantasy.
Oh baby rolling with the ecstasy.
Trial by the nights of pitch black sky.
Some say suicide,
Some say you never wanted to die.
Only god truly knows' why.
Denial and prejudice at the same time.
The judge and jury in a flurry attack.
The poor man had no time to react.
26 stab wounds creates a bloody mess.
You try to clean it up to your best, but with out success.
Vengeance for life.
No one will come see you.
Not this time you've done yourself in.
Let the punishment fit the crime.
Passionate or not,
a plea of temporary insanity with not an ounce dignity.
Cigarettes burns to the eye.
Pissing on the body as it burns and getting pleasure out of it.
A socially path, a sick son of a b*tch in which their no cure for.
Your keeping score after each murder.
Some would call you a serial killer.
I call you a soul stealer.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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