183
I and the internet
Sensitive nerves
Concentrate in
My finger tips
Making sweet sounds
in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Internet Poetry
I and the internet
Sensitive nerves
Concentrate in
My fingers
Making sweet sounds
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweetest Sin
Can you imagine us,
Making love..
The way you would feel the first time that we touched,
Can you think of it..
The way I dream of it,
I want you to see like im seeing you..
It's a picture of perfection,
The vision of you and me..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
All night I lie awake,
Cause it's to much to take..
Dreamin' about the love that we could make..All day,
I think of scenes..
To get you next to me,
I want you so bad that I can barely breathe..
It's a sign of my obsession,
That I can't stop thinkin bout'
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That would be the Sweetest Sin..
It would feel so good,
To be so bad..
You don't know how bad.. I want that,
I would do anything to feel your love..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips.. would be the Sweetest Sin
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Blind
Is it sounds
converging,
Sounds
nearing,
Infringement,
impingement,
Impact,
contact
With surfaces of the sounds
Or surfaces without the sounds:
Diagrams,
skeletal,
strange?
Is it winds
curling round invisible corners?
Polyphony of perfumes?
Antennae discovering an axis,
erecting the architecture of a world?
Is it
orchestration of the finger-tips,
graph of a fugue:
Scaffold for colours:
colour itself being god?
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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He who feels compelled to consider the consequences of these facts cannot but realize that the specific sensibility of nerves for certain impressions is not enough, since all nerves are sensitive to the same cause but react to the same cause in different ways.
quote by Johannes P. Muller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thoughts On The Sounds of Silence
The sounds of silence beacons me.
Like the flight of a bumble bee.
For my life is in a quandary. And I am the one who is confused.
All the noise I here has me transfused.
The constant noise is like a cancerous ooze, someone mused.
All this noise has everyone confused.
I pray to God above to bestow me with the sounds of silence.
All human life is in the balance.
With the sounds of silence I believe peace surrounds us.
About this subject I must confess, I need to access.
I must admit that the sounds of silence is for me.
On the sounds of silence many of us do agree
That peace and love needs to be in great balance.
Without the sounds of silence there would be a major imbalance.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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The Key-Board
Five-and-thirty black slaves,
Half-a-hundred white,
All their duty but to sing
For their Queen's delight,
Now with throats of thunder,
Now with dulcet lips,
While she rules them royally
With her finger-tips!
When she quits her palace,
All the slaves are dumb-
Dumb with dolour till the Queen
Back to Court is come:
Dumb the throats of thunder,
Dumb the dulcet lips,
Lacking all the sovereignty
Of her finger-tips.
Dusky slaves and pallid,
Ebon slaves and white,
When the Queen was on her throne
How you sang to-night!
Ah, the throats of thunder!
Ah, the dulcet lips!
Ah, the gracious tyrannies
Of her finger-tips!
Silent, silent, silent,
All your voices now;
Was it then her life alone
Did your life endow?
Waken, throats of thunder!
Waken, dulcet lips!
Touched to immortality
By her finger-tips.
poem by William Watson
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Its All In The Game
Many a tear has to fall
But it's all in the game
All in the wonderful game
That we know as love
You have words with him
And your future's looking dim
But these things your heart can rise up on
Once in a while he won't call
But it's all in the game
Soon he'll be there at your side
With a sweet bouquet
And he'll kiss your lips
And couress your waiting finger tips
And your heart will fly away
Once in a while he won't call
But it's all in the game
Soon he'll be there at your side
With a sweet bouquet
And then he'll kiss your lips
And couress your waiting finger tips
And your heart will fly away
And your heart will fly fly away
And your heart will fly away
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Put The Finger On You
I put the finger on you
My hands all out of control
I cant stop it getting down on you
Its moving on its own accord
Yes, Ive got fire in my finger tips
Radiating onto you
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Its knocking on your door
And you know what its for
Chorus:
I put the finger right on you
I put the finger right on you
You put your finger on me too
Then I put the finger, I put the finger
Yeah I put the finger, I put the finger
I put the finger on you for sure
Its the key to unlocking your door, dont you know
Ive broken through your security
My hands aint tied no more, you better watch out
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Speaking up for pleasure
You can feel it on your ankle
Feel it on your knee
Feel it on your thigh
Can you feel me?
Chorus
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Sneaking up on your front door
You can feel it on your ankle
Feel it on your knee
Feel it on your thigh
Can you feel me?
Put it - right on you
Ill do it if you want me to
Can I put it?
I put the finger on you
I hit the spot
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Like Your Silence
i like your silence
now
it is not like the
silence we had
before
your silence
now is different
it is
reminiscing
it is
refreshing
it is
sensitive
to my presence
it is
reflective of
who i am
enabling me
to hear my
breath
to see and
feel
my very own soul
i like your silence
now
it is the silence
of the memory
that cannot
be forgotten
it is not death
it is life
it is the blossom
of my sorrow
it is the fruit of
my despair
it is the silence
of my silence
it is the peace
within my
solitude
it has become
the center of
my life
the focus of my
scattering
the finding of
my loss
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I listen to the silence
I Listen To The Silence
Darkness about me
In the somnolent silence
The silence has substance
As thick as can be
silence about me
as loud as a scream
In a nightmarish dream
It can terrify me
Silence has a feel
Of darkness in velvet cloaked
As a desperate cry being choked
Phantasmic, yet real
As Quiet surrounds me
The silence has substance
The absence of presence
is deafening to me
Sounds whispery as paper
Things scurry about me
Sounds, soft, sad and scaly
Like venom and vapour
Silence is sound incomplete
Silence whirs, silence hums
Silence throbs, silence thrums
Silence has it’s own heartbeat
Quiet has movement,
Tho’ever so slow
Quiet has substance
and how do I know?
I listen to the silence...
as you do also
poem by David Whalen
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My old satchel
Still I carry your heavy fragrance in the old satchel over my slanted shoulder.
Life flies away from me day by day.
And our golden school stands still with new students.
In that narrow flowery path they walk to our nostalgic school
And we are too old to stand at the gate.
I imagine the music teacher's sensitive finger tips touch the reeds
And gives the melancholy song of life again.
Dedication to one of the prominent poetesses in the site Sandra Fowler
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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“Sweet Sounds of Joy”
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear sweet sounds
Of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear momma sing
In her morning voice
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to be in the presence
Of these sounds of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love sweet sounds of joy
poem by Va Rockeya Foy
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To be sensitive
As sensitive, I am neither tolerant nor patient.
As sensitive, I am neither neutral nor indifferent.
As sensitive, I am either a rose or a cactus.
Whose fault is it that I am sensitive?
24.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Concentrate On You
Whenever skies look grey to me
And trouble begins to brew
Whenever the winter winds
Begin to blow
I concentrate on you
When fortune cries nay, nay to me
And people declare youre through
Whenever the blues becomes my only song
I concentrate on you
On your smile to sweet so tender
When first my kiss you deny
On the love in your eyes
When you surrender
And once again our arms entertwine
And so when wise men say to me
That loves young dreams never come true
To prove that even wise men can be wrong
I concentrate on you.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Upon A Time There Was Pleasure
when you were younger
oh, you remember the things that you've done
so much pleasure there
all over
your finger tips, your tongue,
your feet
pleasures reside in every mouth
lips
the giggle of the lone navel
the electricity in your
hair tips
the curve on the nape
the secrets of the thighs
you smile
over such memories
when you are alone
sipping coffee
one afternoon
upon a very cold day.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Silence Is...
Silence is an absence
Silence is profound
Silence is a conversation
Being had without sound
Silence is an expression
One that cannot be heard
Silence cannot be spoken
Although it is a word
Silence is a presence
Of great nothingness
Silence can be something
And yet cease to exist
Silence can fill a room
And have no mass at all
Silence cannot be dropped, yet it can fall
Silence is a mystery
That will forever go unsolved
Silence is how every sound can swiftly be dissolved
Silence is the sound of rest
The only sound that can sound best
While other sounds can cause great pain
Silence is not the sound to blame
For Silence is what silence is
Something that is nothing
Nothing that exists
poem by Kyle.J Carruthers
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The Bay
A silver finger of moonlight
stretches across the bay
highlighting tiny boats
tugging at their moorings
in a bid to be set free.
It silhouettes two lovers
sitting on the shore
fighting at the restraints of love
in a bid to set them free.
The silver finger shimmers
on ripples from a breeze
as around the bay is silence
waiting for the dawn
to remove its gag
and set its sounds free.
20 March 2010
poem by David Harris
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Simple, Seldom and Sad
Simple, seldom and sad
We are;
Alone on the Halibut Hills
Afar,
With sweet mad Expressions
Of old
Strangely beautiful
So we're told
By the Creatures that Move
In the sky
And Die
On the night when the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry.
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Simple, seldom and sad
Are we
When we take our path
To the purple sea -
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of Yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and More
On the Night of all Nights
When the sky
Streams by
In rags, while the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry,
sensitive, seldom and sad -
sensitive, seldom and sad.
poem by Mervyn Peake
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(Choices Poem) All Yours
Let my finger tips do the talking
I am crawling
I am walking
I am marching
If only for a little while
To rise up, to rise against
To show the weakness in man
I am but a contradiction in words
I am a man of many masks
One each for a different task
I think way too fast
Just slow it down bit
What's the hurry to go nowhere
We are already here.
Standing before you
Ready to ask
Ready to question
Demanding answers
Debated and already hated
You have just been emasculated
I'm your worst enemy.
I'm your best friend
I'm as you make it.
Be careful with that vase you just might break it
I'm here to send you to hell or help
Take it or don't
The choice is all yours
All yours
Let my finger tips do the talking
I am crawling
I am walking
I am marching
If only for a little while
To rise up, to rise against
To show the weakness in man
I am but a contradiction in words
I am a man of many masks
One each for a different task
I think way too fast
You make your claims to be of evil man
Like the invisible ghost
Most don't see you
But I do
You look like you might just be in trouble
If you need some help
Just ask
Forgive me if seem kinda of mean
Cruel and unjust
It's just the way I see things
The way I was raised
The way this has been staged
Let my finger tips do the talking
I am crawling
I am walking
I am marching
If only for a little while
To rise up, to rise against
To show the weakness in man
I am but a contradiction in words
I am a man of many masks
One each for a different task
I think way too fast
When my words are spoken
They sometime are misspoken
A slip of a letter or two and it all comes undone
What was fun, oh it becomes
An ugly face, full of disgrace
But I tell you that was never my intent
And with its time to reinvent
The scientific, and fantastic.
Star gazing under a moon lit sky
Perplexed by them all.
An endless number that never be counted
forms and shapes cascade.
Let my finger tips do the talking
I am crawling
I am walking
I am marching
If only for a little while
To rise up, to rise against
To show the weakness in man
I am but a contradiction in words
I am a man of many masks
One each for a different task
I think way too fast
So it all yours
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Sounds Of Reality
You want to sit in silence
just to gather your thoughts,
however you know that something
will shatter that shell apart.
The silence that you crave
will vanish in sounds of reality.
You want to sit without
any outside influence
invading your shell of silence
you have built around yourself.
Sadly the inevitable will happen
and the shell will be shattered.
The sounds of reality
creep into our lives
in those precious moments
when we need to be
alone with our thoughts
and as quiet as can be.
Some don’t understand
the quiet distance others need
and invade it with idle noise
from their chatter to a TV blast
which will shatter your silence shell
with the sounds of reality.
You feel like shouting
get out of my space
and leave me alone,
but then you doubt
if they will understand
and you suffer in the sounds of reality.
24 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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