A verdict of guilt
I like to be stern today
So that you may believe me
That I am serious
About the law and that
I mean it when I punish you
I look at you
As you stand before me
Uncombed hair
The dirt of poverty
All over your body
Unwashed clothes
The odor of your crime
Permeating the room
You look like a
Tattered poem to me
I want to write
Something beautiful
About you
I could have followed
The creative path
Of compassion and
Shy away from form
And reason
Yet society is looking
With anger and thirsting
For revenge
Which they call justice
I hand the verdict
Of conviction
Another body another
Soul shall suffer because
The path is rigid
And too smooth for our
Own creative imagination.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
That's what it is every time you walk into the room to write with someone new. It's like, oh god I have to take my clothes off 'my creative clothes' and let them see all of my flaws.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Via media
My body is a
temple of God >
God is everywhere.
Where there is a body
I am in the body.
My body is yours
So long as I am perfect
I have right to stay.
I try myself to be perfect
You are my guidemaster
giving always a lighter.
With your light
I get my path
the path is also you
It is you my body
viamedia of my fortune.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Dictate Rule Of Time
price is paid
for each ephemeral
poem beautiful
of artistic insight
vibrant
reflective
beauty
muse creative
demands
her piece of flesh
body soul mind
obey must
her dictate
time of rule
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The creative and the receptive
To sing is creative; to listen is receptive.
To play is creative; to watch is receptive.
To write is creative; to read is receptive.
In sex, man is creative and woman, receptive.
21.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd Rather Write
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than mow the lawn today,
As mowing grass I'd soon be bored
And choose to walk away...
That wall needs painting, yes, I know,
Another month won't hurt,
I'd rather write and watch words flow
Than paint and hide the dirt...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than tidy up that room,
A tidy room's a poor reward
Compared with words that bloom...
That pile of clothes I'll get round to,
No pressure, they can wait,
I'd rather write my point of view,
As my views are first rate...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than wash the car outside,
It's not a Rolls, it's just a Ford,
With scratches dust can hide...
That stack of dishes, won't complain,
No rush to stand, wipe, stir,
I'd rather write my thoughts again
Before they melt and blur...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than shop for milk and bread,
Black coffee's okay, rest assured,
I'll give up toast instead...
I'll see my girlfriend, next week, soon,
Tomorrow or tonight...
I'd rather write this afternoon,
Please, Lord, if that's all right...
Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-
But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-
So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-
But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,
'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Compassion and Anger
Compassion and anger were my only love
Came to me winging like a lonely dove
Gimme some loving from the Lord above
Compassion and anger
Down on the quayside things getting rough
Somebody trying to prove they are tough
Compassion and anger will soon call their bluff
Compassion and anger
Compassion and anger won't make you sad
Compassion and anger will just make you glad
What will you do when the world's turning bad
Without compassion and anger?
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hold Onto Your Dream
You always felt you had a destiny (yeah)
You wouldnt bow down to the gods
Of money and power, baby
You burned bright to shed your light all over the world
You had a plan and it was just a matter of time now
Here today, what happened to that dream
Dont tell me its over
I still smell the fire
Stand up and hold on to your dream
Maybe this is your moment
Stand up and hold on to your dream
You know no one can take it
There is a path its always been yours
And you have the right of passage
Signed in blood and sealed in tears
Sending you a message
Across the miles and thru the years
Stand up (and be there) and hold on to your dream
With some faith and conviction (some faith and conviction)
Take a good look, you dont like what you see, (no)
You just dont come this far and never get scarred, baby
It all seemed like fate
The big dreams werent hard to make way back then
Something pure about that suffer for art, passion and pain
Standing here
What happened to those dreams
Dont tell me theyre over
While your heart is still beating
Stand up and hold on to your dream
Maybe this is your moment
Stand up and hold on to your dream
You know no one can take it
There is a path its always been yours
And you have the right of passage
Signed in blood and sealed in tears
Sending you a message
Across the miles and thru the years
Stand up (and be there) and hold on to your dream
With some faith and conviction (some faith and conviction)
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0366 Poem as snake, poem as not-snake
Walking the narrow, stepped path that bends
through our local sub-tropical,
magical landfall, full of strangeness,
there it was
across the path,
brownish, yellow and green markings,
waiting
adrenalin poured through the body,
waking instinct, emotion, thoughts;
possible next moves racing manifold through the mind,
uncertainties, no previous experience
of quite this situation to rely on
in our relatively snake-free neighbourhood
and it was big;
the body froze,
the eyes just looked
at the branch, covered in
green moss, yellow lichen,
brown and almost weightless with rot
so that the storm had tossed it
onto the path, into my path,
indifferent, innocuous,
so much so that as the body
restored to equilibrium
I was beyond kicking it aside -
in some sort of embarrassed respect;
it, unaffected by all I brought to it;
like a poem
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where You're Coming From
You can not walk in my shoes
And expect to achieve progress.
Nor can you look over my shoulder,
To perceive your accomplishments!
Nothing that I've done,
Materialized just on wishes.
You want an easy ride.
Without hard work done...
Or tears to cry!
You want a smooth and clear path,
With time to joke and time to laugh!
They may call this business the creative arts!
But the creative part about it...?
How to sustain a sanity maintained
While holding onto a part of you...
No one but you know!
And It breathes with life but no one sees it!
As ignorant comments are made on a daily basis,
About 'you' and your lack of progress!
You want an easy ride.
Without hard work done...
Or tears to cry!
You want a smooth and clear path,
With time to joke and time to laugh!
You can not walk in my shoes
And expect to achieve progress.
Nor can you look over my shoulder,
To perceive your accomplishments!
Nothing that I've done,
Materialized just on wishes.
Years in the making!
Years with much of my heart breaking!
It took me years...
And don't think I don't notice,
Where you're coming from!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who cares? - Nobody Cares.
No-body cares!
if I die, or You die
no-body cares!
if i cry, or your cry
no-body cares!
if you move out or i stay
no-body cares!
if your hurt or I'm hurt
no-body cares!
i fail, win or gain any form of victory
no-body cares!
if your job-less and i be skint, and out of pocket
no-body cares!
if your being abused, I'm being abused behind closed doors
no-body cares!
if there is justice for me and no-justice for you
no-body cares!
if my child is known, and yours be UN-known
no-body cares!
if there are wars in my country, wars in your country
no-body cares!
no-body cares! no-body dare's to put a 'STOP' sign up!
poem by Noorie Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Only I Could Write A Beautiful Poem
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it special and only to you
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
So that we will forever remain so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With more than a goodness like something new
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
Like the everlasting stay of the sky so blue
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would pray to God
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would work very hard for the Lord
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With happiness the remain all through the year
f only I could write a beautiful love poem
Knowing that you will be very near
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
One so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it just for you
poem by Douglas Carter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For literature sake.
When the body ages, does the soul do?
When the body gets wounds, does the soul suffer?
Are body and soul like sac and air?
Not so obviously.
Are body and soul like flesh and heat?
Might be.
Does not soul die when body dies, then?
Heart is not the seat of emotion, but brain.
Soul is not distinct to be treated so.
Yet soul is distinct for literature sake.
18.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roaming...
when the soul is blocked
there is a reason, could be that the soul has become too familiar
and as it insists, has become too unpleasant
for the body,
at 2: 30 in the morning the body is behaving like a dead man,
pretending, perhaps since there is still that
alcoholic breath, saliva sticking and
nostrils wriggling
a mosquito bite becomes too irrelevant,
a cockroach tumbles down on your hair and
laughs,
nothing is happening to life,
the soul and body at war, there is this room closed,
morning light seeking an entrance
to a night window
that is still magnetized to
dream.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Caylee Marie Anthony
Oh little one, for you I stand
Oh little one, your life I defend
A voice that can no longer be heard
Justice for you, I will not be deterred
All my waking hours and they have been long
I fight for a verdict, I must be strong
For at the end it is you that I see
Justice for a beautiful and precious Caylee
God has taken you home, here you were not deserved
Suffer no longer, for now judgment reserved
The punishment we seek here on earth was not meant to be
An unfocused jury has set your killer free
But I know that one day and hopefully soon
She will stand before God and his wrath she’ll consume
An angel you are and always will be
The Lord took your hand and set you free
Rest in peace Caylee Marie Anthony
poem by Kathryn BecknerOssman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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B.i.t.c.h
I saw you walking down the Road
I got into the poetic Mode
I thought let me write this Ode
Your long hair, Made me prance
Like a mare, Your beautiful Eyes
Reminded me of the blue skies,
Your pink lips, made me
Crave for chocolate chips
Your angelic smile, made me
Forget myself for a while
A body to die for
A body to lie for
A body to cry for
A body to fly for
B-Beautiful
I-Indian
T-Teen
C -Causing
H-Heartache
poem by Anand Dixit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Voice Lays Hanging On A Pole
like a tattered piece of
loin cloth
a voice lays hanging on a pole
beside a
grassy path
it speaks
and i listen
it speaks about its loneliness
its being tattered
it is a torn voice haunted by
a scissor
the thread of mystery runs
wanting still
till nighttime to find the naked
eye
of the needle
pines beside the hill
stand by
like strangers staring
upon the dead body
of a boy
overrun by a ten wheeler
truck
tragic! yes, tragic is the
silence
more tragic is the indifference
that simply walks away
unnoticed even by the invisibility of the
soul of
the wind
chimes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wild Sea-Shore
Some people don't know how to say,
'Thank you' or even, 'I am sorry';
Like in poverty, hunger and in dirt;
You are naked before the eyes of the people.
Your body,
You say you are beautiful;
Your body,
It is exposed to the public eyes;
Of Ex-Boyfriends and Ex-Girlfriends,
Of Ex-Husbands and Ex-Wives,
As you lay your bed, so you shall sleep on it.
Another day, another hope;
Another song, another poem;
He had been always with her in the house.
Some people don't even know how say,
'Please';
Like a low miserable lives of hand-to-mouth,
To whisper to your ears with human sustenance;
Like a fair sea-circle with no sadness.
Of people, places and things;
Far in a darker Isle beyond the line,
Like our nakedness to the public.
A black dot,
A walk by the wils sea-shore;
With the actions of the people that i do meet;
'Please', 'I am sory', 'Thank you',
Are out of the peoples lips!
Just a clear call for me,
Face to face with the facts;
A walk by the wild sea-shore where,
The silent water slips from the hills.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is my body
This is my body that you see
It is beautiful carved by God’s hands
Smoothened by His breaths
You will love it and want to have it
To touch and caress
To be feasted upon by the hunger
Of your eyes and thirst of your lips
To be rubbed by the coldness of your body
Seeking the warmth of my flesh
This is my body that you will first see
But there is more in me than my body
This soul that seeks your soul
This beautiful soul that seeks the beauty of your soul
The hands of my spirit reaching out to your invisible hands
They have all for years been longing to clasp
My soul longing to be with your soul
So they can be together
To be fused with each other as one
To be happy and calm and perfect
To that final place where this body
Shies away because something more beautiful
Inside it shines and glows and becomes
So beautiful in all eternity
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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