A Poem Is Not Measured By How Long Or How Short It Is
a poem
stands by the merit of its sound, tone, color, smell,
how each sense participates
sometimes
if you must, as others want it, they put the sixth sense
the message of morality
and sometimes they even put God
as a divine flavor
perhaps to dispel the evil ants, snakes, ghosts, vampires,
werewolves, the furies that haunt them
and attract those
who are holy, or those who want to be holy, or those who simply
pretend to be
holier than thou
but a poem no matter how short
like a mere
man.
i.
am
or how long, an epic of his heroes,
his dreamland,
a fan for fantasies to cool
the humid and warm air
of the surroundings
if it comes from the heart
joyous or sad
blissful or lamentable
for me, that is enough, because at the end of this search
eventually it is
you that matters most of all, whether in your brief stay here
as brief as
a morning glory
or a mist, frost, or waft of air
or a heave
a sigh
a gaze, or a mold in bread,
you have spoken a word
or two
about yourself, and the world, and about how well you have loved
at least
a single soul,
that will be enough, in fact, i am so sorry, i have spoken at length
when i could have simply said
yes,
or i could have stayed silent sleeping in my bed full of regrets
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sensibility
The five senses of man
sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing
are mandatory.
This makes you feel expeallagrandatory,
For sight for seeing the funny side of life,
Smell for inhaling laughing gas,
Touch for touching the funny bone,
Taste for the good life and,
Hearing for a rib tickling joke.
The sixth sense ESP. is only for the few.
The lucky are blessed with the seventh sense,
A sense of humour.
Like the barman answering the lady penguin’s question
“Have you seen my husband he drinks here a lot? ”
“Lady we get lots of drinkers in here, what does he look like? ”
Most important of all
This humorous sense stands tall,
It opens your emotional sensibilities
So grab your lover for platform seven
To travel on the happy train,
To the fun side of life,
It’s just like heaven.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Tunnel Vision
I have been advised of having tunnel vision...
You know when you are near blind as a bat?
Worried and in fear-for my eyes my dear?
Nah, my nose works and i'm sure i smell a rat**! ;
Thank God for my nose and my ears...
Never mind my limited sight...
A highly developed instinct also carries me-
Through the blackest of darkest night! ;
It gives me much sought after information...
Of long ago sequesterd plans and schemes...**
I've been told that i am sixth sense old...
That my information is formed in my dreams;
So never mind my tunnel vision sweetheart-
My nose and my ears do just fine...
Coupled with the sixth sense instinct God gave to me...
For miles i can smell my enemies sign**;
May 14,2010
**Smoke From The Attic (as usual)
The Phantom IS Back.
poem by Theodora Onken
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A poem conveys not a message so much as the provenance of a message, an advent of sense.
quote by Thomas Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eight senses
(poetry in progress)
the world starts out
with a consciousness
half a consciousness
then one consciousness
then they morph with one sense,
ask the mountain
they stand and stand until the
volcanoes start to throw them out
then two senses, ask the trees
and the shrubs criss crossing
with your paths in the field
they stand and stand, take
the sunshine and make green
a colour for continuous evolution
their only shortcoming is their
two sense world, they stand and stand
a state of being, a state of living
and that's all
the three senses, the four senses
and the five senses, the human beings
they cry to God to let them
have eternal life
but what ever that's for
without the sixth, seventh, or eight sense
unveiled to them
sixth, the sense to connect the past
with the future
the seventh, the sense to connect
the future with the million of consciousness
clarmouring for the eight senses
to be with the ultimate, the Om,
the Divine where all senses
come together with one Supreme
consciousnes, amalgamation of
senses where knowledge springs forth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The sixth sense
Eyes are there to steer the way;
Ears are there to tell the way.
Nose to sense the danger, tongue
To select food and skin to feel heat.
I direct my eyes to see women,
Ears to hear them, nose to smell them,
Tongue to kiss them and skin to toss them.
Is it due to sixth sense or starvation?
18.03.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It's In The Message
It's in the message that is a benefit.
It's in the message that is left that is effective,
If...
The one who comprehends the message meant.
And...
If the message sent to them makes any sense.
And...
The understanding of it doesn't get them bent,
Out of shape.
Or brings heartache.
And that message is received,
As a gift to take.
It's in the message that is a benefit.
It's in the message that is left that is effective,
If...
The one who comprehends the message meant.
And...
If the message sent to them makes any sense.
And...
The understanding of it doesn't get them bent,
Out of shape.
Or brings heartache.
And the message is received,
As a gift to take.
It's in the message that arrives...
And one will take.
It's in the message that delivers...
A statement made!
And taken...
As a gift!
Yes,
It's in the message that is a benefit.
And...
It's in the message for the one who makes some sense of it.
And admits,
It benefits...
To believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The sense of national catastrophe is inevitably heightened in a television age, when the whole country participates in it.
quote by R.W. Apple, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Time Will Tell
[transcribed by chris w]
Only time will tell
By: jimmy buffett
1996
Scales and clocks just cant be trusted
Keys and locks are destined to be busted
Metaphors were never made for keeping score
And Im feeling for the sound of time
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Is it the answer or just a suggestion
Is love what we truly want or merely a protection
Is this music made to last or crumble like a shell
Is there heaven here on earth or is this really hell
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Are we destined to be ruled by a bunch of old white men
Who compare the world to football and are programmed to defend
Id like to try a princess or a non-terrestrial
Who is neither boast nor bashful is there really such a girl
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell
I woke up this morning feeling absolutely grand
For nearly half a century Ive been singing in a band
Id like to think Ill make it to two thousand and one
Will the party be at my house God I wonder who will come
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense will it ever ring a bell
Only time will tell
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
Only time will tell is there a message in this song
Will it ever make sense on this crazy carousel
Only time will tell
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hoo hoo hoo hoo
Only time will tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sense
Sense
Which makes some sense
Other than nonsense
Supreme sense
Is civic sense.
Embedded with moral sense
Inject sense
In this universe
Oozing with nonsense.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Seven Layers of Heaven
touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
smell
....
....
seven layers
of heaven
set in me
two more
layers
lost in
myself
clouded
in the views
cast by the world
heaven
comes in
seven
layers
so say hindus,
chinese,
buddhists,
even the muslims
and hell?
between
all
the senses
the heart
that torments
the doers
for
his misdeeds
the fugitive
who manages
to run away from
everybody
but not
the burning hell
of conscience
that pokes
at his top
making him bleed
at the heart
day and night
hell and heaven
bound in this
frame of
heart, soul
and mind
a living hell?
the heaven
in seven layers
the other two layers?
sixth sense?
seventh sense?
two puzzles
that wait
for an answer
hidden
in the realms
that circle
around me
i look into the sky
and journey
to the
eternal sphere
that joins me
to the moons, stars
try taking me
out of this world
and it sure looks different
feel different
a whole new world
the seventh sense
seventh heaven
the sixth?
the woman
who digs
deep into
layers of her own mind
to find the dates
of her own death
and exciting upcoming events
of the world, the tsunami
third world war,
end of the world
a nostradamus
a hell in between all these?
the scorn
from bigots
two layers
of heaven that got lost
in me
covered by
the clouds
five is perhaps
a more lucky number
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I Can Sense It Coming
I can sense it coming
I hear it from within
The words are here
A poem-
But whether what I feel as a poem
Is a poem
Is another question-
Words come
Perhaps they are only prose -
Not every sound which comes from within is beautiful
And not every word I wait to hear is a poem-
Should I stop here
Or is this already enough for now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem
THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-
I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-
A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Can Streams Flow Along The River Sides?
Can the streams run upto the oceans far?
Can they run along the side of the rivers known?
You were a river and I a stream
Who flowed together once.
Using the sixth sense I read your mind
The one none could read before.
Each line written on your mind
Unveiled a portrait painted never.
You were a river and I a stream..
Aside my failing senses old
Triumphed my sixth sense young.
You, the river got flooded
And I, the stream was drowned.
Denouncing the last reason left you kept even my soul off-
An act someone else could have done.
Each word spoken at my funeral often
Unravelled the mystery of your mind.
Along the side of the river of your ego,
May I flow as a stream entwining you ever in the next life too?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A news sense is really a sense of what is important, what is vital, what has color and life--what people are interested in. That's journalism.
quote by Burton Rascoe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Common sense tells us that the government's attempts to solve large problems more often create new ones. Common sense also tells us that a top-down, one-size-fits-all plan will not improve the workings of a nationwide health-care system that accounts for one-sixth of our economy.
quote by Sarah Palin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sanitary and mechanical age we are now entering makes up for the mercy it grants to our sense of smell by the ferocity with which it assails our sense of hearing.
quote by Havelock Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tone
Find me a tone for this poem
I am having a hard time
With putting the proper tone
Though I am pretty sure
Of its form
What form to use
The shape of the swan
A white swan
On a lake
Alone
Give me a tone
That conveys what I
Want to convey
To you
A language
That really means
What it says
Something
Creative
A path
That I must
Follow
Leading me
To you
Give me a tone
Please
A tone from
You
The one
I really love
The one
That must
Love me
Too
Truly,
Tell me
What is the
Tone now
Of this poem
Is it begging?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Deer Tracks....
my poetry is not
the kind of tracks that deers
put upon the grass
that each
tread upon
you do not have the kind
of nose that dogs have
your sense of smell is not
that keen enough
to say that i am inside
the confines of
every word in every
poem
deers
those wild ones
are too keen
to sense even the
disturbance of the sands
by a lost worm
it skips and jumps
over the river and the next time
you see it
it has become another
mirage
in the desert
do not trace any part of
me in the past
for i am no longer there
i could be that
deer
at the other side of the
river
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Making sense
No sense in it if you act non-sense
People may push you away with sense
You may think why people are utterly non-sense?
When you are perfectly ok and act wit sense
You may fail in your love attempts
Some thing may force you or to act prompt
Still you act with sense and avoid
You may face difficulties which are self maid
You may act wise with change of scene
Gentleman like approach when publicly seen
Is it not the humanly act minus sin?
When one tries to project what he has been?
What comes to your help or rescue?
You may be wondering without any clue
You may blink and face may turn blue
When projection makes no sense for you
Sense is third eye for human being
Timely act may make him king
Opponent may face defeat in the ring
You may survive……………..
What, if nothing suggests or paves the way?
Your voice may not be heard or have the say
You may stick to position and bat for long
Still it makes sense that you are not always wrong
You will know what lies ahead?
Common sense may stop you to be mislead
So even if you are worried or so tense
You may act wise and come out with sense
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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What He Gave to Us
I wanted to do something different today
I didn’t know what to do, or even what to say.
I had a feeling deep inside- that made me
Want to scream “ I’m alive”.
I looked around at all the beauties of the earth
And thought about all my worth.
That I was born with all five senses
That the lord had given to me.
The sense to Touch a delicate flower
The sense to Hear a bewitching hour
The sense to Smell what s in the air.
The sense to Taste the juices of a pear
The sense to See the beauty of a pearl
There is another sense that they don’t say
Such as Feelings- of love, to wipe tears away
Feelings cover all aspects of life
It can make things wrong or things right.
Feelings of passion and despair
Of compassion from one who cares
Bitterness, anger, hate and sorrow
Even those make life worth while.
There is so much that we must be grateful for
For GOD has opened all the doors.
He knew that we needed all these things
To make our lives complete.
But there was still something missing
What good was all these senses
If we didn’t have the main sense.
The sense to think and rationalize
All that he had given
That was the thing that would really
Make life worth living.
(08/10/11)
poem by Louis Rams
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