From The Pen
This hash is a slash of print,
The signification lashes and crashes
Penning in the meaning of a pen.
Ageless meanderings writhe and work
At the pen’s writing, this pen is constant
And invariable like the offers of a great age.
It requires a rigmarole and proceeds
On conjectural thoughts and ideas
That think like magic, the gloss of treason.
Innocuous blessings worm their way forward
In evil and blameworthy wont,
The wedlock increases
And stupidity enters the heart.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Mermaid By The Sea
Little mermaid splashing in the sea,
swimming around as free as can be.
Letting the ocean’s wave’s float you to shore,
hoping to win the heart,
of a man who totally adores,
You; deep down to your soul.
Once he has his eyes on you,
he hears a sacred note,
totally mezmorized he crashes his boat.
Now he is all yours
for you have saved his life,
from the misery of his aloneness & mortal plight.
For he’s is sad and can’t express,
all his depressing thoughts of total unhappiness.
Now with you he see’s magic in your eyes,
finally hearing your sweet voice totally mezmorize,
all of the romantic thoughts he has
starts to spin in his head,
he offers you his hand so that you may wed.
Turning himself into a merman to be with you,
living in joy with both your hearts so true.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Jan.26,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mermaid By The Sea
Little mermaid splashing in the sea,
swimming around as free as can be.
Letting the ocean’s wave’s float you to shore,
hoping to win the heart,
of a man who totally adores,
You; deep down to your soul.
Once he has his eyes on you,
he hears a sacred note,
totally mezmorized he crashes his boat.
Now he is all yours
for you have saved his life,
from the misery of his aloneness & mortal plight.
For he’s is sad and can’t express,
all his depressing thoughts of total unhappiness.
Now with you he see’s magic in your eyes,
finally hearing your sweet voice totally mezmorize,
all of the romantic thoughts he has
starts to spin in his head,
he offers you his hand so that you may wed.
Turning himself into a merman to be with you,
living in joy with both your hearts so true.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Jan.26,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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I Alone
I that am I alone,
Crafty and unique;
Skilful, excellent.
I that am fire
Without the form of angels, a hundred things in one,
And always fraudulent.
I that am I alone,
A liar when I thieved the Daltons,
A reaction when I found a niche
A blue-eyed man with strong lashes
A man of evil strength for the clashes with the enemy
Who sentences to death for the conviction
What stupidity lies in foolish weather
That the soul has wept from the peeping?
My lone heart pulsates beneath the storms
And the mountains split from my crimes.
My thefts spell danger for the whole community,
My laughter says much magic,
With bonds of poison,
Without a single weapon.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My Blue Pen
A pen, what is a pen?
An instrument for writing, a tool, a path to wisdom?
Or is much more than that?
What means this blue pen to my heart?
I'm writing with this pen all my thoughts, my hopes,
I'm keep it in my hand to help my ideas flow,
This blue pen is the bearer of all my joy and pain,
And when i'm writing, its blue ink holds my dreams.
I'm writing with my blue pen,
Which he gave it to me,
To never forget and to write,
Our impossible love story in the book of life.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Maintaining A Maintenance Of One's Sanity
Maintaining a maintenance of one's sanity,
Requires constant discipline.
And the benefits of rest one gets...
Not outdated 'yet' or considered obsolete.
These times we live press forward,
With lightening fast speed.
So quick some noses may even bleed.
Swift are the thoughts required to think.
Leaving decisions made,
Before clouded eyes are seen to blink.
Technology driven are electronic inventions.
And a mental nimbleness...
Is required to live a life in the midst of this.
And those believing they can live without PC's...
Will be left behind conversing with robots.
Once referred to as human beings.
Swift are the thoughts required to think.
Leaving decisions made,
Before clouded eyes are seen to blink.
Maintaining a maintenance of one's sanity,
Requires constant discipline.
And the benefits of rest one gets...
Not outdated 'yet' or considered obsolete.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At least two-thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity idealism, dogmatism and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religous or political ideas.
quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At least two-thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity: idealism, dogmatism and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religous or political ideas.
quote by Aldous Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Which, of course, isn't the point of writing - but it would be nice if, along with the creative satisfaction of writing and seeing my work in print, I could do more than merely scrape a living. Okay, moaning over.
quote by Eric Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Magic
When I look in your eyes
I cant see why
Theres no reflection of me
When I look in your heart
Let it be the start
Work your magic on me
When I look in your eye
I cant see why
Its all a mystery to me
When I ask you to look inside and tell me why
Nothing can change what will be
Baby work your magic on me
Baby work your magic on me
Im in a state of permanent confusion
Without your love
Without your love
Baby work your magic on me
When I look in your mind
Is there a reason why
Its all an illusion to me
I was lost in the game
That only two can play
When you work your magic on me
Baby work your magic on me
Baby work your magic on me
Im in a state of permanent confusion
Without your love
Without your love
Baby work your magic on me
What kind of love is this youre talking about
Its got no reason got no easy way out
What kind of love as got a hold of me
What kind of love
What kind of love
What kind of love
Baby work your magic on me
When I look in your eye
I can see why
Theres no reflection of me
I should have known from the start
That you would steal my heart
If you work all your magic on me
Baby work your magic on me
Baby work your magic on me
Im in a state of permanent confusion
Without your love
Without your love
I know I want to be with you tonight
Baby work your magic on me
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The act of writing requires a constant plunging back into the shadow of the past where time hovers ghostlike.
quote by Ralph Ellison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Love! Magic!
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
You Have Cast Your Spell...
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.
quote by Louise Bogan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evil, I call you! !
Evil
Don't listen to a word they say
Will let you be alone at times,
Needed most.
That evil eyes looks at you,
and lies
All the hateful things you said
and what you've put me through.
Evil
In the heart of people
Evil
Wont care if you die
Evil
Is all that I can perceive in you
So is your dark side,
Your evil.
Evil is you.
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Love! Magic!
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
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Ramdas Choi Chang poems 4
Poem 1
Wonderful is life,
Wonderful to live and enjoy,
Enjoy stupidity of own in
laughing at stupidity of others, Mr. Bean and Chaplin are great
ones,
Bringing out that frozen
stupidity in all of us melt and
flow!
Poem2
Great was that dance
Of Michael Jackson,
Great was dance of greater
dancers but no one can dance on
our heart like our own ignorance
hand in hand with our stupidity!
Poem3
They say God is Love,
God is great, as great as love,
Both are great mysteries
but not as great as men and
woman!
They can use or misuse both God and Love,
as they can use or misuse fire or
knife!
Poem4
Come come my dear fountain of
Love,
Come come my dear spirit,
tell me please in which flavour,
You are at your best, which form
of spirit, Wine or divine?
Poem5
There were great men,
some worked for all and some
worked for
Themselves,
God is that great,
as mysterious as life and universe,
a few penetrated some of them,
yet mystery continued as
mysterious
as Human,
ignorance and stupidity too has that same mysterious origin as
the knowledge and wisdom!
Poem 6
Lovely will be nature,
you are the part of it,
Lovely is too your nature,
If you know what is nature of all
and what is nature in all?
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
Good movement
Did you ever see my profile?
Catch me there for while
It may speak and reveal
There is hardly anything to conceal
Poets need not speak for themselves
Their volumes or work speak itself
It is how you present your life and work poetically
It gets on to the heart of people theoretically
You have so much to learn from friends
They may advance from different angles and lend
The valuable support and inspiration
It may its own weight and startling revelation
I find female friends more considerate
They are near to the truth and moderate
What they present is purely from mother’s heart
They never try to impose or ever try to look smart
They may be found in friend, daughter or beloved
All most all feelings are bridged and puzzle is solved
They nearly take you to the dead far end
Revive it with kind and best human touch and send
I may not see in them only from sex point of view
I try to understand them and give their legitimate due
This must be the secret of any poet and be pursued
So at any time they are not misunderstood and sued
Should I restrict my self to only writing?
What if some one offers beautiful fighting?
Not ending in scuffle but lovely exchanges of words
I always take it as good sign and look forward
What tasks poets are supposed to perform?
Take the readers in arms and stay informed
This may prove to be great joy for the moment
If not it may be great event but surely good movement
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
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