Chosen Books
Inhale now that the books are chosen,
Turn them to inhabit them, occupying them.
There is a reason for the thinking,
A meaning to deliver to the brain.
They are stocked on the shelves,
For all in the house, always in view.
A history has emerged of truthfulness,
Nothing but the truth, nobody objects
Or instructs others.
Inside we did discover all the knowledge,
But inhale any you demand for all time.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The World Is Mine
Inhale the joy
Inhale the fun
Now its time for me to get on top
Of the world
Inhale the music and the warmth
The crowd is ready to bring me to the top
Of the world
(chorus)
Cause the world is mine
I wont stop this time
Cause the world is mine
And Im feeling so divine
Im part of this illusive show
Time for me to get on stage
Lights fade
Tomorrow youll be at my feet
Saturated senses set me free
Its all I need
The world the world is mine
And Im feeling so divine
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inhale
He said:
I am a
Cigarette
For you.
Don't inhale me.
You'll get addicted.
I said:
Be
Aromatherapy
For me.
Let me
Inhale you
And get
Rejuvenated.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Scent
As I lay alone late tonight I hold your pillow tight and inhale your scent.
The scent that sends my mind back to the last time we made love.
Now, as I inhale more of the scent of you I start to feel your presences.
I begin to feel soft tenderness of your kisses.
I then feel your touch stroking every inch of my body.
I also feel the motion of your hips just like I did the last night we made love.
As I take one last deep breath and inhale the scent that is the essence of you.
I feel you doing the same thing as you also lay alone without me.
Image
Breathe
This is the knowledge that I bring,
Universal worldwide culture
Inhale, exhale
I takes it all in
No second guessing
Truth brings forth a new passion
No second guessing
Push aside this fate for the ransom
Stands among, gold seven and loxd up
White wool; fire eyes, glowing in red
Water of rush, planet hold, in double edge
Falling down dead, last first, its one life
Life source, in resurrection, these bloodstains
Shining face, this morning stars reflections
Embracing light, the clearness of sunrise
Tower strong, in this refuge, my fortress
Breathe
This is the knowledge that I bring,
Universal worldwide culture
Inhale, exhale
I takes it all in
No second guessing
Truth brings forth a new passion
No second guessing
Push aside this fate for the ransom
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Books of a Reader and Drinker
The library of books to do with life are great,
Inside them we discover a whole new story.
Their covers are as hard to swallow as fish,
Meeting a drinker dissolves your hatred of reading.
The drinker is a drunkard of the odd variety,
He reads like an angel when his wings number many,
But then they shed due to drink, and the beer has departed.
For this reading composes the mind,
The books of ancient nature fall from the shelves,
They burn by the dozen and leave us with true knowledge.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Understand, accept, accommodate if you feel you are humane
The same single object
I see
You see
She sees
He sees
They see
But, no two has the same sight
The same single musical note
I listen to
You listen to
She listens to
He listens to
They listen to
But, no two has the same enjoyment
The same single scent
I inhale
You inhale
She inhales
He inhales
They inhale
But, no two has smelt the same way
The same sip of wine
I have
You have
She has
He has
They have
But, no two has tasted the same way
The same touch of feather
I feel
You feel
She feels
He feels
They feel
But, no two sensed the same softness
Sensory organs register varying
Stimulations among people
Perception ot these stimulants
Further vary depending on
Intelligence,
Emotional factors,
And other factors associated with
Acquired knowledge and skill
The extent and nature of response to
Emotion-biased situations
Vary far widely depending on
A range of other factors
Which defy description
We see a reason
As to why people judge differently
And act or react in a manner unimaginable
For harmonious co-existence
We need to understand this
Not that we do not know this
But often we are unable to
Demonstrate this understanding
With kindness, empathy
Love, care and what not
And end up with emotional outbursts
Leaving behind burnt hearts
Understand, accept, accommodate
If you feel you are humane
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Dissed
I am quiet
The clock is slow
The teacher talks fast
I inhale then exhale
I am anxious
The clock moves faster
The teacher is writing on the board
I inhale then exhale
I am excited
The bell is about to ring
The teacher gives the homework assignment
I inhale then exhale slowly
I am nervous
The bell has finally rung
I walk out of class heading in his direction
I can barely breathe now
I am brave
I wait for him to walk my way
He sees me, I open my mouth, but he walks in the opposite direction
I am left motionless
poem by Pamela Mote
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I've always assumed that every time a child is born, the Divine reenters the world. Okay? That's the meaning of the Christmas story. And every time that child's purity is corrupted by society, that's the meaning of the Crucifixion story. Your man Jesus stands for that child, that pure spirit, and as its surrogate, he's being born and put to death again and again, over and over, every time we inhale and exhale, not just at the vernal equinox and on the twenty-fifth of December.
quote by Tom Robbins
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Even Objects Around Me
I almost want to ask you to leave my head
Living without you makes me feel dead
The reminder that I'm alone with you is everywhere
It's the kinda that will tear
My mind into pieces, but slowly, painfully, and quietly
That's how it kills me
Because you're even in objects around me
You've been in this house, so you can see
How things all around remind me
About times we've had
Or maybe just time and isn't that sad?
That's all you gave me to cling to?
What were you
Thinking? !
And yet I'm sinking
Drowning in my memories of you, that remind me of desire and love
That remind of hurt and the one sided nature
Maybe it's time to be mature
And just grow up but all around me I'm reminded of you
Even objects speak to me about you, even places in my house too
I can't get you out of my head!
Is this love or something else? !
We barely have memories but I can't let go of you
We barely have memories together but that's all you've got of me too...
Do you think of me, it almost makes me cry
To wonder if you do because you probably don't, why can't my feelings die
Especially when you don't feed them
Especially when you seem to avoid me like a saint to sin
How can I get away from you when even objects cry out against me
They cause me to see
That either I really love you
Or I just can't think stop thinking about you...
The only conclusion I can come to
Is that even objects around me love you too
poem by David Knox
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Deliver Me
deliver me...
from the fury, the noise,
and the roar of the wheel...
deliver me...
from my own insecurities,
my unconscious greed,
and my self driven fears.
deliver me...
from my conceptual understanding,
my limited knowledge,
and my worship of knowledge.
deliver me...
from all anger and hatred
in whatever disguise...
deliver me...
from being driven by
mouth and stomach unchecked,
from what i think i need.
deliver me..
from my countless mistakes,
and the excuses i make!
deliver me...
from any kind of pride
that closes the open hand!
deliver me...
from any sense of self
that would seperate and divide.
deliver me...
from laziness and tiredness,
from bitterness and lonliness.
deliver me...
from all forms of apathy,
and the want to possess...
deliver me...
and bring me to realize myself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Every Time I Am With You
I dont know why
Nor do I know how
All I do know is this feeling inside of me
The feeling only you give me
It wont go away
However I dont want it to disappear
Every time I see you smile
I forget to inhale and exhale
I forget everything except you and me
To tell the truth
I never thought I would find someone
Someone I hate to be away from
I love the way your lips taste
So sweet and gentle
The butterflies inside of me
Take of for flight
Your so sweet and gentle
I love the way I feel
Every time I am with you.
poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rap It
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Tell me why,
Do you camouflage that love.
And why...
Do you do it disguised in meaning.
Tell me why,
Do your eyes cry and fill with tears.
And deny with lies,
You want true love!
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Tell me why,
Do you camouflage that love.
And why...
Do you do it disguised in meaning.
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap! '
Do you wanna rap?
'No, I don't wanna rap!
Don't wanna rap but...
I'm so tired of giving up my heart.
I'm so tired of making new starts.
Like I've got nothing but love for sale.
To inhale pain with no gain to exhale.'
Rap it!
Rap it!
Rap it!
Rap it!
'I'm so tired of the games being played.
I'm so tired of being used for a quick lay.
I'm so tired of words that say,
'I love you baby but I can not stay.'
Rap it!
Rap it!
Rap it!
Rap it!
'I'm so tired of giving up my heart.
I'm so tired of making new starts.
Like I've got nothing but love for sale.
To inhale pain with no gain to exhale.'
Tell me why,
Do you camouflage that love.
And why...
Do you do it disguised in meaning.
'I'm so tired of giving up my heart.
Rap.
I'm so tired of making new starts.
Rap!
'Like I've got nothing but love for sale.
To inhale pain with no gain to exhale.'
Tell me.
'I'm so tired of the games played.'
Rap!
'I'm so tired of being laid.'
Rap!
'I'm so tired of words that say,
'I love you baby but I can not stay.'
Tell me why,
Do you camouflage that love.
And why...
Do you do it disguised in meaning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Back To The River Of Time...
for what is poetry? did i tell you that it is
merely defecation and all i excrete are
trash, garbage, e coli?
you keep on saying
i disagree, i completely disagree
i am recollecting your pieces and put them
in an album and i will make
a publication, ...jesus!
socrates did not write a word.
Jesus neither.
(i am not what they were.
i am just a sigh, a sort of
a morning exercise, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale
thing)
and stephen king who says he does not write
but all these are still here...
silly life, silly life, looking for a wall
and a spray net, spray, spray, write on the
wall, draw on the wall,
keep things intact, mementos, refreshing meal
of the river of time.
i do not know. I keep on telling.
chanting. I got no book of my own.
I have nothing to own.
Let no word come back to me
and tell me
' i am your creation
and you are my papa'
for at the end i shall deny all of them
for i do not belong here neither to somebody
nor some reason.
pilgrim am i. in this river of time.
leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Too Grateful to Want Time to Stand Still
I've had a wealth of experiences from which to select.
If ever I decide to quit and sit in blissful reminiscing...
I would miss so much!
But like a blooming that is done until the procedure is over...
I have yet to become idled to wish for a pleasant revisit.
And,
I do my best when the opportunity presents itself,
To taste and absorb those moments as they are!
When they come as they do.
With a deep breath I am blessed to inhale.
Exhaling but keeping inside the view.
Moving to explore a mind unleashed.
As other revelations real enough to touch...
Solicits the attention I give!
And I am too grateful to want time to stand still.
Tomorrow sunrise lifts...
As dawn with the dew takes its time to disappear.
And I wish to witness every bit of it as it unfolds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deciding On A Disposition For The Day...
early this morning
before my walk
i go up the house and
stay for a while at the veranda
overlooking a garden
of anthuriums and
mahogany trees
i take some long breaths
feeling my lungs with
fresh air
i stretch my arms and legs
and breathe some more
i put some numbers of this
inhale and exhale
cycles
and then
last night's storm inside my head
is fully
overtaken
i tell myself
i'll make this day
perfect.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Value Of Having To Write A Poem Or Two
don't you know
that i always feel so alive
after writing
a poem or two?
it is as though
i have not exhaled for years
as though
i have only learned to inhale
at this moment
cool fresh air fills my lungs
a dance song in my heart
aerobics for my veins
a view of the landscape of rivers
and hills and a house beside
with chimney
blowing its smoke for
the breakfast menu
at night the moon is full
and the birds are tightly asleep
all these are in my mind
after a poem or two.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sense of Honesty
I just need to breathe
Feeling free to inhale
Not disturb by
The smoke, the tense
Or even my own heart beat
I just need to hear
What it’s all meaning
Not closed by
The fear, the lie
Or confusing memory
I just need to touch
And burning in love
Not distant by
The pride, coldness
Or unsupported destiny
I just need to see
Deep inside of me
Not clouded by
The failure, denial
Or even complimentary
I just need to taste
The sweetness of dream
Not sour by
Reality, misery
Or some shallow controversy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Brain Dead
Turn me off
Pull the plug
Leave me with some dignity
I am not
What I was
And I dont need the sympathy
Alive inside me
No one can hear me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Paralysed
In my shell
Enduring every
Endless day
Immobilized
On my back
Aware of everything
They say
Extricate me
Eliminate me
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot
I cant blink my eye or cry
Or even speak
They crowd around my bed
Condescending words are said
Thinking I dont hear or know
What is going on - hello!
Cant you suckers hear my cries
From inside Im still alive
Its my decision to abort
Turn off the goddamn life support
Let me pass
From this world
So I fade away in peace
Comprehending
Unrelenting
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Sentenced
Forgot
Brain dead
Im not
Brain dead
Drip fed
Forgot
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Time
My senses are heightened
As adrenaline pounds through me
Using my veins
In a personal
Pulsating
Selfish way.
That makes it seem my heart will
Break out of my chest
And,
Dance before my eyes.
Every hair on my body has risen
Expectantly, waiting for you.
I lean towards you
Like soft green grass
Dancing in the breeze.
Breathe
Eyes dilated
Pupils fixated into tiny points.
Searching
Looking
Knowing
As I inhale your sent.
A flood of emotions
Engulf me
Crash against me like waves.
A Tsunami
Hitting pebbles on a beach.
I will be swept away in the moment
Engulfed in your arms
Crushed by your mouth
As it consumes me.
Your tongue has me enslaved.
In your iron grip
My waist is anchored by your hands.
My hips begin to undulate
In some primal dance
That seems to be buried somewhere within me.
I share a secret
That escapes as a sigh in your mouth.
This secret was hidden somewhere within me
Waiting for you to unlock it.
This spell is ancient
It has captured me.
You have my full attention
All senses attuned to you.
I crave the sweetness of your mouth
Your sent
You remind my flesh of its purpose.
Remind my heart why it beats.
Remind me why I breathe.
As I breathe you in
Exhale.
Remind me why I'm alive
Inhale.
Remind me
Exhale.
Who I am
Inhale.
Tell me again and again
Exhale.
Why it is
Inhale.
Why I think
Exhale.
I love you
And forget to breathe.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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A Cigarette
A Cigarette
Dawn, yes and the mist, what else do you
expect on lake Martin early and summer?
Swamp cypress dripping with Spanish moss.
I have stopped rowing, water swirling around
Oar blades, the silence is absolute I dare not
Inhale, a bird shrieks, the lake shudders
An evil thought has entered Paradise, I hear
The faint noise of outboard motors,
The moment of ethereal stillness has gone,
I lit a cigarette inhale deeply, exhale and blow
Rings a pure delight into morning air.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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