A Poetry Reading
A flabby, forgettable face
Kills the muted, unnatural silence.
She laughs timidly
In childlike embarassment.
The famous poet.
Stares at the ceiling,
Trying to conceal his yawndom.
Next to me
They wonder
Why i do not clap
Automatically.
The safe enclosed evening
Is
Programmed for
Proceeds to the.............
poem by Peter Vealey
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Related quotes
My Poem Is A Forgettable Poem
MY POEM IS A FORGETTABLE POEM
My poem is a forgettable poem-
Trite rhymes-
Awkward syntax-
Common common thoughts-
Little words everyone knows-
Without real Metaphor-
Boring.
My poem is a forgettable poem-
And I write it with all my heart-
Hoping
You will love it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poem To A Poets!
the poet see crooked
and talk weird too
like a drunk
perdition in his insane!
No one can understand a Poet
Just you and me, like poet we are
The poet say 'Dr. Jivago'?
It means like a movie? No
it means my love for you! ! !
Or he asks yourself, Am I Evil?
No, he does not evil
I am in silence, affirm the poet! ! !
In silence never he will be
BONG, kick the can! ! !
WAR
AAA
RAW
in silence he is!
Trapped in a tower
a terrible place
just for one second to rest
like almost all of us
He said' I gone'
but gone like no one
gone with strenght
strange and revolutionary Poet!
No one can understand a Poet
Just you and me, like poet we are! ! !
poem by Mirna Morgan
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At Noon When Everyone Is Gone
the silence in the office is like the silence of
the catacombs
someone drops a pin and every stone hears it
it is also like the silence of the dormitory
that evening of December 25
when all the lights were turned off
when the prefect was asleep
when what you hear was the buzzing sound of
that old olive green ceiling fan
when what you did was read a novel
that did not interest you anymore
that time you wrote a poem for her.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Angry Amusement
The amount of amusement angrily delivers,
Angles at this vary very much, like a river.
The art of being awake is sodden with rage,
The animals of this sense dictate the changes.
May apples of the tree behind us clap and clap,
So that automatically binding the branches is beauty;
Authority made an approach to the heart,
A tree of living gold rectifies much business.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Poet At The End Of The Rainbow
THE POET AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW
The poet at the end of the rainbow
Stares down from the sky and smiles
While all the while stars and distances
Continue their endless exile
And underneath all the beaming
And where the words once were heard
A small little voice keeps streaming
A silence forever absurd.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Anonymous Poet
then anonymous poet
keeps on writing
his critic is the curtain
his reader his own
computer keys
the walls around him cheer
the ceiling stares
the beams comfort him
and the floors
say that his poems
are interesting
he does not really mind
after all
he is anonymous
and he likes it
that way
his life a mystery
his name a nobody.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Famous Fable
The famous fable,
The famous table,
The famous stable,
The famous cable,
The famous babble,
The famous gable,
The famous parable,
The famous variable
The famous sable;
But, able to crown your love with my muse!
For, you are all that i need.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Innocent Face Vavroovahana Patra
The innocent face allures the poet in the morn;
The Beauty magnifies the beauty of the dawn.
Mind derives peace;
Poet lives with Divine Bliss.
Poet is a lover of Beauty;
Beautiful things enchant the poet with gaiety.
Loves Silvery face delightfully;
Loves innocent hearts silently.
Vernal chilly Breeze kisses the crisp hair delightfully;
Fragrance of Beauty bathes poet's body with gaiety.
Poet is inspired to remain in a world of peace;
Praying in the lap of Nature derives Divine Bliss.
Innocent rural Beauty proceeds silently;
Poet, a lover of Beauty, beholds enthusiastically.
Innocence provides delight;
Inspiration is a Brook of Delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Ar 1
the agreement is that
when he likes you he shall
stand and clap and
bow at you
res ipsa loquitor
he lies there motionless
his face in the ceiling
his hands clasped then hidden
inside his pockets
and being so tired for the
day's endless struggle
he slept
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Living In The Dark Vs.. Living In The Light
The poet gets depression when he is living in the dark
Also it is depression that it is hard for the poet to control in his life
Basements are ussualy dark and reminds me of a subway station
But sometimes it gets too hot and the poet has to open all the windows
Of the house so the house can cool of
The dark doesn't feel safe for the poet
But the light feels safe for the poet
When the poet lives in the light he is more energetic
And he can do a better work when he works on his poetry
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Love That Kills
Will you take me slowly
Will you lead me all the way
Will you sing me your songs
Until I am ready for
The love that kills
Yeah!
I have known you in the
Sheets and folds of many lifetimes
You were there when I was made
And I will speak to you in the language of dream until
Love comes my way
Love that kills
Yeah!
Hey I will ride on a dolphin, rain in my face,
Wind in all of my sails
Theres a shadow hard on my heels now,
But Im still trying to, Im still trying to...
Get to the place, were [rolling like strippers over spill]
I have come a long way and I need my cup refilled
So when you come for me slowly
When you come knocking on my door
When the soul sings
And the man is still
I will be ready
I will be ready
Yes I will be ready for the love that kills
Yeah!
The love that kills
The love that kills, kills, kills
The love that kills
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Attention!
Poems that include words like
f.ck, a.shole, p.nis, v.gina, b.stard, s.ck, s.n o. a b.tch
are removed by system,
automatically.
People that include thoughts like
wh., .ow, wh.t, wh., f.r wh.t r.son, th.ts no. ri.ht
are removed by system,
automatically.
poem by Poet Dragon
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Collectively In Mindsets Dazed
Nothing regarding truth has been accepted.
Even as it stares them in the face,
It is rejected.
Programmed minds find reality absurd.
And refusing to deal with it...
They believe they show courage and nerve.
But the truth that surrounds them,
Will not be detoured.
And those crazed...
Are collectively in mindsets dazed,
And disturbed.
Like children,
Who will not eat their sugared cookies...
Without something,
Looking like milk...
To them is served!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Frame
a square a rectangle four corners
of wood or steel or just bold strokes
to make a corner a frame to put
my face in, and there i am safe
i am enclosed i am situated i am
myself in a certain context in a
certain world. There i am found.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Anechoic Chambers
The anechoic chambers of my heart
Reflect the acoustic reverberations
Of silence's muted susurrations,
The resting notes too defeaned to depart.
What melodic contour, in sequence, starts
The harmonic depth of orchestration,
The fully dynamic augmentation
Of the symphony I'd like to impart?
The enclosed, infinite dimensions
Of quiet, interior space remain
Insulated from open influence,
Suspended from the sonic ascension
Of electromagnetic pulses gained-
Static feedback phasing for confluence.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Silence
Silence: never talks back
making you feel small;
Just stares back at you,
understands all
Silence and a cup of tea
early before there's a dawn
Shreiks and screams
but there's not a sound
Just keeps on falling down
tripping over yesterday's promises
Humming unfinished songs he
can't remember the words to
Remember when you wanted to?
now you never do
And after all the nows and thens
it all comes back down to silence again
Silence and a cup of tea
early before there's a dawn
Stares back, never talks
understands all
poem by Midnights Voice
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Adored in Somnolence
He curls up behind her
His every curve
Melting into her own.
The setting sun
Reflects from the lake
And dances across the ceiling
Like the aurora borealis
And they watch the display
In sleepy silence.
The temperature slowly drops.
He pulls the cover higher
On her.
For the first time in her life,
She feels safe.
His hand cups her breast,
As she drifts to dreaming,
With a tiny smile on her face.
He kisses her hair
And follows her.
Goodnight.
© 2012
poem by Ruby Honeytip
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
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The Most Famous I Am Poem
The most famous I Am poem was penned by John Clare
When he was in Northampton mental asylum and burdened by care
A poem from all others that set him apart
For life's poor and forsaken a cry from the heart,
A poem by an aged poet lost in the lost years
The most famous I Am poem move many to tears
A poem written by one who knew about despair
That poem his reality such poems are rare
The most famous I Am poem tells of an Earthly Hell
Known by the fringe dwellers the mentally unwell
The song of an old poet forsaken and gray
The truth in his words is still living today
And though the renowned old wordsmith to the reaper long gone
His famous I Am poem it is living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Child That I Am
Blue, Red and Yellow
Are primary colors.
The colors of childhood;
The colors of children.
I am soft and innocent and childlike-
Trying hard to be childlike;
Trying to be vulnerable again;
Unaffected, Unassuming.
There is a quiet, serious look in my face;
An ache in my heart.
I am alone in my sorrow,
Driven by fear
To be childlike, expressive,
Truthful and wise;
To recapture the essence of living;
Of playing in childhood dreams;
Aware of the wonders of nature;
Sensitive to Flowers and things;
Passive in my joy;
Beautiful in my art-
The art of recreating childhood.
(January 9,1991)
poem by Carole Moran
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