Irreverent Conversations
Irreverent conversations connect to these people,
Their value of talking itself is never phenomenal.
Understand me when I speak, the posture also,
May two hearts mix to the exclusion of others.
My heart beats finally in time with music,
Loathing this strange melody can cause abbreviations.
Converse so strangely and connect,
My paint is flung on the wall;
Butchers are set forth, finally butchering their calves
And the meat arrives for the blessings.
Posture for a bird is immensely important
Before it dies, and the beauty inside this ritual
Is enormous and gigantic and fat.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Connect Me To You Heart
Connect me to your heart, my friend
it is this heart that gives until it hurts
The heart that hears your voice
Deep from the tranquil ocean
Learning to ride the waves
And see the beauty in each magnificence
If today you will hear my voice
Harden not, just connect me to your heart
Learn to live and feel this heart beat
That says..all is well..keep on doing
What is right, have no fear of tomorrow.
There must be no turning. back...just be focused..
You have so much for everything
To give, to share, to love, to live
Take one day at a time, and enjoy
Your candle must be lighted
So you will not stumble in the dark
Connect me..to your heart..my friend.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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It's Mine to Own
Just give me my prize!
For a life lived...
Both bold and wise.
Just give me my prize!
Un-itemized it.
It's mine to own.
Just give me my prize.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
Inside...
I connect it.
Now I can accept.
Those feelings I cried...
With heartache.
Deep in my chest!
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
Just give me my prize!
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
Inside...
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
Those feelings I cried...
With heartache.
Deep in my chest!
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
Just give me my prize!
Un-itemized it.
It's mine to own.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
It's mine to own.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
It's mine to own.
Just,
Give me my prize I accept it.
It's mine to own.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
My own.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
My own.
I accept it.
Now I can connect.
My own.
Just give me my prize,
I accept it.
It's mine alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Always Talking
People always talking, voices never quiet,
Talking over beauty, messing with delight,
Gossiping their lives away, caught up in the lies-
People talking years and years, until they finally die.
People always fighting, people never still,
People never happy; going at it with a will.
Never satisfaction, or noting what they feel,
Taking what is not theirs, compunctionless to steal.
People in the graveyards, finally at rest,
Never realizing, that it was for the best;
People with no destiny, done with all their tests-
People with their last breath, that never could confess.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Bridge To Our Hearts
Hiding behind the truth and avoiding me
but can you denying how it feel?
u keep forgetting me
Perhaps u forget our memory?
Too much sorry
u believe silence build for thinking
Restless about silence is waiting
dont hate to love
never love to hate
it just me, u and time
ground and sky maybe far
for me it just a different space
sun and star maybe different
i talk with stars at night
and sun still warm me everyday
friend is not about hating
friend is all about loving
so break the silence
lets break the wall
start build the bridge
to link our hearts
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : Theme friendship: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
New idea but not be included..should i? ?
Bridge is important to connect two parts,
Broader soul bridge will connect for someone between two hearts
Be a way for a soul to walk and visit another in place called heart
But when communication was stopped, left as abandoned yard
So keep manage to keep bride stronger even time goes hard
Remember, a bridge is a door of our hearts
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
poem by Unwritten Soul
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do not worry Chester
try again next time
connect the puzzle and form
another chance
to get finally the picture
of life
it is normal
life is a mess, things do not fit easily
expectations are not met
wishes always stick on the
rainbow
dreams do not always come
true
try again
maybe next time the pieces fit
and you may finally see the final picture
of success
do not worry Chester
there is always a right season
for everyone
a time for you
a luck all yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The invented sex
All mammals have posture 66
In their sexual union
And man alone has posture pq.
Man’s invented one is 69,
Where each serves the other
To equal immense sensation.
14.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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More Than A Melody
Verse One:
In the still of a moment; my voice can be heard
So listen carefully, there music inside each word
I am the Composer, of the melody of life
So, take upon my yoke learn of me, I'll be your guiding light
I am the Director, Be part of My symphony
I speak peace unto the storms; even the winds obey Me
Let me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help carry on, carry on
Verse 2:
I am the music within the inner ear
Hearken unto my voice, I'll declare, I'll draw near
I am the rythym to every beat of your heart
And, If you'll place your trust in me I'll never ever part
So, let Me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help you carry on, onnn
Pre-chorus:
When the notes are formed(They make)
They make a special sound(the music inside the music)
The music inside the music;(It lifts me when i'm down, i'm more than)
More than the beat of time(so much more)more than the lyric more than
More than just a melody(More than just a ryhme)
More than just a rhyme; more than just a melody;come unto me
Chorus:
Ohh,ohhhhh,ohhh,ohh
ohh,ohh,ohh,oh,ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
More than just a melody(i'm your closet friend i'll be there to the end)
More than just a rhyme(Shelter in the time of the storm;you'll never
have to be alone,now)
More than just a melody(trouble won't last always when you realize
that iam)
More than just a rhyme(you won't to live each day alone because I am
more)
More than just a melody(more than just a song to sing more than the
beat moree,morree)
More than just a melody(More than anything that you can spend me on, spend me on
i am)
More than just a melody(Morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
More than just a melody(Yes,Yes i'm more)
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
This more than a melody is off the cd entitled "More Than A Melody(Not
"Best of Yolanda Adams)
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Than A Melody
Verse One:
In the still of a moment; my voice can be heard
So listen carefully, there music inside each word
I am the Composer, of the melody of life
So, take upon my yoke learn of me, I'll be your guiding light
I am the Director, Be part of My symphony
I speak peace unto the storms; even the winds obey Me
Let me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help carry on, carry on
Verse 2:
I am the music within the inner ear
Hearken unto my voice, I'll declare, I'll draw near
I am the rythym to every beat of your heart
And, If you'll place your trust in me I'll never ever part
So, let Me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help you carry on, onnn
Pre-chorus:
When the notes are formed(They make)
They make a special sound(the music inside the music)
The music inside the music;(It lifts me when i'm down, i'm more than)
More than the beat of time(so much more)more than the lyric more than
More than just a melody(More than just a ryhme)
More than just a rhyme; more than just a melody;come unto me
Chorus:
Ohh,ohhhhh,ohhh,ohh
ohh,ohh,ohh,oh,ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
More than just a melody(i'm your closet friend i'll be there to the end)
More than just a rhyme(Shelter in the time of the storm;you'll never
have to be alone,now)
More than just a melody(trouble won't last always when you realize
that iam)
More than just a rhyme(you won't to live each day alone because I am
more)
More than just a melody(more than just a song to sing more than the
beat moree,morree)
More than just a melody(More than anything that you can spend me on, spend me on
i am)
More than just a melody(Morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
More than just a melody(Yes,Yes i'm more)
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
This more than a melody is off the cd entitled "More Than A Melody(Not
"Best of Yolanda Adams)
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nobody Home
Don't run too fast
Like a shot from a gun
Don't jump too high
And knock out the sun
Don't stray too far
Out on your own
When you finally come knocking
When you finally come knocking
There'll be nobody home
Nobody home
Don't pull too hard
Like a kite in the wind
You'll break the string
When I reel you in
Don't take off flying
All on your own
When you finally come knocking
When you finally come knocking
There'll be nobody home
Nobody home
You say you're feeling locked inside
Stuck inside to stay
You wanna fly away
There's nothing I can do
To help you make your play
Make your getaway
Don't dream too wild
And shoot for the moon
Don't ride your heart
Like a balloon
Don't blow away
To places unknown
Cause when you finally coming knocking
When you finally come knocking
There'll be nobody home
Nobody home
Don't run too fast
Like a shot from a gun
Don't jump too high
And knock out the sun
Don't stray too far
Out on your own
Cause when you finally come knocking
When you finally come knocking
there'll be nobody home
Nobody home
When you finally come knocking
When you finally come knocking
There'll be nobody home
Nobody home
When you finally come knocking
When you finally come knocking
There'll be nobody home
Nobody home
song performed by by Heart from Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Internet is like alcohol in some sense. It accentuates what you would do anyway. If you want to be a loner, you can be more alone. If you want to connect, it makes it easier to connect.
Esther Dyson in Interview in Time Magazine (October 2005)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friends Within The Darkness
I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
classical music
I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife
inside
because there was no alternative except to hide as long
as possible--
not in self-pity but with dismay at my limited chance:
trying to connect.
the old composers -- Mozart, Bach, Beethoven,
Brahms were the only ones who spoke to me and
they were dead.
finally, starved and beaten, I had to go into
the streets to be interviewed for low-paying and
monotonous
jobs
by strange men behind desks
men without eyes men without faces
who would take away my hours
break them
piss on them.
now I work for the editors the readers the
critics
but still hang around and drink with
Mozart, Bach, Brahms and the
Bee
some buddies
some men
sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone
are the dead
rattling the walls
that close us in.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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will you believe me if I speak of love?
If I speak of love, it is because love speaks
To me, like we are having this conversation
About love itself, and I ask love that if I speak
Of love, will love believe me?
And love sighed, and finds this question
Too self-serving for itself, for love could
Be biased too, telling me that if I speak
Of her, she will believe me, oh, that would
Be too unnecessary of love, to speak about itself,
For love to believe in love from love itself
Who is asking about love,
About me and telling me, she will believe me,
In fact, this would be too confusing, too confusing,
But I speak of her today, and I speak of myself
Too, believing about this love of mine,
And so confused we see each other eye to eye,
The eye of love to my eye of true love,
Talking heart to a true heart,
The heart of love talking to the heart of true love,
and finally, though confused, and still taking breaths,
love, she finally,
Said, yes, love believes me, love believes my love,
love speaks of love, love believes in love,
In my love, and there is no other. Love begets love.
That is what human history had always told to itself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As far as I was concerned the important thing was that the music was getting the attention as well as me so it was always a great way to get more of the public to connect with classical music, and opera particularly.
quote by Lesley Garrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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25
If I speak of love, it is because love speaks
To me, like we are having this conversation
About love itself, and I ask love that if I speak
Of love, will love believe me?
And love sighed, and finds this question
Too self-serving for itself, for love could
Be biased too, telling me that if I speak
Of her, she will believe me, oh, that would
Be too unnecessary of love, to speak about itself,
For love to believe in love from love itself
Who is asking about love,
About me and telling me, she will believe me,
In fact, this would be too confusing, too confusing,
But I speak of her today, and I speak of myself
Too, believing about this love of mine,
And so confused we see each other eye to eye,
The eye of love to my eye of true love,
Talking heart to a true heart,
The heart of love talking to the heart of true love,
and finally, though confused, and still taking breaths,
love, she finally,
Said, yes, love believes me, love believes my love,
love speaks of love, love believes in love,
In my love, and there is no other. Love begets love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Are Old Now....
...because others had it
you want it too,
you work to have it, work so hard,
connect, have a network
you push
you pull strings,
even at noon,
when the heat is
painful,
(deep within you you do not need it
you can live without it, you are different from all these
ambitious
selfish, power takers)
then, you finally get it
but then, when you prepare to go
dress yourself well, comb your hair,
put some smile in your face,
you finally face the truth that this thing is giving you harm
and never good
this arrogance, and
conceit,
and then, you surrender,
throw away
that which you have worked so hard for
you are old now,
and there is no more time left for you to be
real.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh, Marion
The boys got brains
He just dont use em thats all
The boys got brains
He just refuse to use em and thats all
He said the more I got to thinkin
The less I tend to laugh
The boys got brains
He just abstains
The boys got a heart
But it beats on the opposite side
Its a strange phenomenon
The laws of nature defied
He said its a chance I had to take
So I shifted my heart for its safety sake
The boys got a heart but it beats on
His opposite side
Oh, marion,
I think Im in trouble here
I should have believed you
When I heard you saying it
The only time
That love is an easy game
Is when two other people
Are playing it
The boys got a voice
But the voice is his natural disguise
Yes the boys got a voice
But his words dont connect to his eyes
He says oh, but when I sing
I can hear the truth auditioning.
The boys got a voice
But the voice is natural
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Picture Story For The Curious
(You supply the pictures!)
I get to meditate
in a chair!
Or against the wall
with my legs
stretched out!
(Or even in bed!)
I get to see
maybe half
of what I'm looking at!
(This changes everything!)
I get to dance
like the tipsy old men
I adored
when I was an infant!
(They never dropped me!)
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to ride a bicycle
with tall
handlebars!
(My posture improves!)
I get to give up
learning to sail!
I get to know
I will never speak
German!
I get to snuggle all
morning
with my snuggler
of choice:
counting the hours
by how many times
we get up
to pee!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to eat chocolate
with my salad.
Or even as a first course!
I get to forget!
I get to paint
with colors
I mix myself!
Colors
I've never seen
before.
I get to sleep
with my dog
& pray never to outlive
my cat!
I get to play
music
without reading
a note!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to sleep
in a
hammock
under the same
stars
wherever I am!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to laugh
at all the things
I don't know
& cannot
find!
I get to greet
people I don't remember
as if I know them
very well.
After all, how different
can they be?
I get to grow
my entire
garden
in a few
pots!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to see
& feel
the suffering
of the whole
world
& to take
a nap
when I feel
like it
anyway!
I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
I get to feel
more love
than I ever thought
existed!
Everything appears to be made
of the stuff!
I feel this
especially for You! Though I may not remember
exactly which You
you are!
How cool is this!
Still, I get to spend time with myself
whenever I want!
And that is just a taste
as the old people used to say
down in Georgia
when I was a child
of what you get
for getting old.
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there's something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for darn sure, something to get!
poem by Alice Walker
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Wishing Well
A well of good water confidently acquires blessings,
From authority of most high, the exact manufacturer;
In this present hour the legionaries attain new goals,
Good wishes are sent to the awed and the awkward.
You describe a felony to a man of confident attitude,
And he withdraws from his own well to spoil one.
The waters of the energetic variety connect with each other,
Forming pools small and big as well, to concern us all.
Let wishful people continue with their blessings,
Actuating their promises for all who speak of gains.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Phenomenal Man
Most handsome men do wonder where my secret lies!
I’m not so dashing – framed like model men;
When I reveal to them the truth,
They think I am dishonest.
I then explain:
It’s in the strength of my shoulders,
The bulk of my muscles,
The mode of my walk,
The way I talk,
I am a man
Phenomenally.
A Phenomenal man,
That’s me.
When I enter a place,
With cool an attitude,
And near a woman,
All ladies eye my looks,
Or stare at me in awe.
And throng around amused
Like dazed an audience.
I then explain:
It’s the depth of my eyes,
The movement of my lips,
My hand gestures,
And body language.
I am a man
Phenomenally.
A Phenomenal man,
That’s me.
Women do always wonder
What’s the magic in me.
Despite their try,
They cannot unravel my
Hidden mystery.
When I attempt to convince them,
They still are unable to see.
I then explain:
It's in my stately posture,
My alluring smile,
My biceps’ size,
My kissing style.
I am a man,
Phenomenally.
A Phenomenal man,
That's me.
Now you can all well understand
Just why my face looks bright.
I have the guts to talk about
All things or even fight.
When you watch me marching,
It is a graceful flight.
I then explain:
It's in the weight of my bones,
My facial, body hair,
The clasp of my fist,
The things I dare,
Because I am a man
Phenomenally.
A Phenomenal man,
That's me.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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Have You Experienced Inside A Wall Within A Wall Within A Wall?
i laugh since i broke a wall and i smile because finally i am free
and yet when i try to smile anew i find myself inside another wall again.
i break another wall again and again and again
but the walls keep walling me like i am its lover.
and finally i give up, i feel the walls too loving and caring for me.
and then i care for the walls and learn to love each corner
its thickness its soundless world
and then i tell the house where the walls are growing healthy,
i am glad about walls. They keep me secure. And then finally i said it for once.
the walls love me. and i love the walls since then.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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