An Early Morning Oat Meal
an early morning oat meal
is like poetry
it warms the heart
fills an empty stomach
makes you
move smoothly
for another day
like a survivor of
another day's shipwreck
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Craving Of The Flesh
when i write this
i am full, my stomach bloats
i am holding something
inside me
with all restraintand if i do not follow
the law of
expulsion
i may die of this
poison
i must empty
what is here inside
to make me feel well
there is poetry in my head
poetry in my stomach
soon
if i keep them and not let them
go out
i may die
and so here i am
noting this metaphor of expulsion
to let you know
that i cannot stop writing
for health reasons and not
for anything else
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
Poetry is the air I breathe
Poetry is the words that feed
My soul
To make me whole
Poetry is what makes me blossom
In the middle of spring
Poetry is what grows my garden
And makes it flourish with nature
Beauty
Poetry Is
My magical whim's that supply all my
Fantasy and fills my hopes and dreams
Poetry is the strong desire that keep the
Flames of love burning
In the midst of the hour
And lights up the sky
With beautiful hues of colours
Spreads from one globe to
Another
To swim the ocean deep
Just because of love
Poetry is that and more, which I
Hate to carry this on and on
But
Poetry is the love of our life that visit
Us in our dreams
Poetry is
Me and the worlds that wakes every
Morning to bloom and blossom
Even after the death has played it last
Song that breaks our hearts
Poetry is tears and moans
Grief and pain that Hunt's the
Soul
Poetry is the rain crying from
The sky
The sun the moon with the golden
Light
Poetry is a child laughter at play
The tears a child shreds in sadness
They cry
Poetry is just a book of songs you
And I write down in our journal
Each and every day
We
Mix them together again and again
That is poetry
Poetry is life woes
Life happiness
Poetry is life
Here now and after
Poetry is you and I
poem by Carolyn Sears
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is
poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry
poem by Daniel Romero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holocaust Poem
I am a survivor of a holocaust
The horror of which
most people could not imagine.
I was brutally beaten and raped by an S.S officer
Then packed in a train
going to the gas chambers of Auschwitz
As if I was a sardine
Not a human being.
If my rapist was still alive
I would tell him
You violated my body
But you did not rape my soul.
Because I am a survivor
I refuse to give you the satisfaction
of fitting my heart
with a pace maker.
Life beckons for me
To truly live
To open the greatest gift
God gave us.
I will smell the sweetness of every blossom
And watch the sunset
Every evening.
Because I am a survivor.
I am a survivor
I am a survivor
I am a survivor.
I am not defined by the numbers
on my arm
I have the heart of a lion.
Because of the strength
God gave me
Hear me roar.
poem by Justin Tanabe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coming Back....
pressing the orange.
it is not you that feels the pain
or the
pressure.
someone else does it for you
as you watch
when he twists his fingers and his face
but you
have other things to see
with the gladness of your
heart.
she sings a song early this morning
after she bathes herself
in extreme coldness
and i wonder why she did not use the hot shower.
it is the coldness of the morning
that makes her sing
as i still put myself under the thick cover
of a thick blanket.
this denial.
early shall she move out.
no word is wasted.
do not ask the meaning of moving out
it can be painful
reinvent the word, coming back, redefine it.
who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Does Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a poem
Good poetry is a rhapsody
That makes my spirit roam
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from an ode
Good poetry is the world to me
It is the mother lode
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a verse
Good poetry makes my soul soar free
And lifts the darkest curse
What does poetry mean to me
A sorry sonofabitch
Good poetry grabs me by the balls
And makes my life seem rich
What does poetry mean to me
An ageing U3Aer
Good poetry takes me back to youth
To when I was a player
What does poetry mean to me
A frustrated would-be bard
Good poetry trips not off my pen
It’s far too blooming hard
A Fickle Mistress
Poetry...
She lures us in,
As if with her beguiling grin
She captures hearts inclined to sin
Poetry...
That lady fair
Displays a most defiant glare
When we attempt to leave her lair
Poetry...
Makes us drunk with glee
But, she will never set us free
From that which we desire, but can never be
Poetry...
Entices all
With her soul she does call
To those that she may soon enthral
Poetry...
That fickle mistress
Causes hearts and souls distress
Because she fills that need...that humans do possess
poem by Dee Daffodil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Red Bird Lives
A red bird lands to rest
Upon a tree branch.
The red bird chirps
For his sibling,
The cat takes notice, quietly
It watches his prey,
The cat figure it had his
Dinner..
Slowly the cat takes aim
And leaps for the red bird.
The red bird takes flight to
To join his sibling.
The cats loses,
But the red bird lives to chirp
Chirp another day..
The cat meow while his stomach
Growls,
The cat watches for another
Chance to feed his hungry
Stomach..
So, the cat meows hoping
For a meal,
To cure his empty stomach..
poem by Carolyn Sears
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ugly In The Morning
You did one thing wrong
You woke up.
It looked better before
More-more
And the stomach turns...
Say nothing without wasting a word
I know exactly what you meant
I know how piggy feels
He starves without missing a meal
Look in the mirror...
Dont look at me-
Im ugly in the morning
When the headache is gone,
The sun is not.
Forgot to turn the alarm
On-on
Doesnt matter how much you think
Or the number of hairs in the sink
I did it to myself again
I know how piggy feels
He starves without missing a meal
Its getting clearer...
Dont look at me-
Im ugly in the morning
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A contented stomach, a forgiving heart; but an empty stomach pardons nothing.
Empty Sky
I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Blood on the streets
Blood flowin down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin from the ground
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
On the plains of jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil
Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Poetry in Motion
Like poetry in motion,
You glide through my thoughts-
Numb my body-
Ripple my mind-
Engross my heart-
Leaving footprints on my soul
Like poetry in motion
You have me guessing the next line
The next verse
The next stanza of this unity
Rippling my mind
Enthralling my heart
Leaving footprints on my soul
Like poetry in motion…
You move me.
Take me to heights…
Speak to me…
Show me what it is you want me to see
All the solace and tribulations
All that’s unjust and righteous
Like poetry in motion…
You move me.
A smile that never leaves me you’re is one I cherish
As words to a poet
Notes to a musician
Paint to a painter
Like poetry in motion…
Move me.
poem by Adam Rubenstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Literary Method
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties ours!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty With Dynamics
Empty with dynamics.
And delivered to suggest,
There would be something to digest.
Something coming to equal the solicitation...
With the assistance of pictures,
And vacuous videos to plant excitement.
To increase one's taste for more.
At least something to chew on...
That would get to the core.
But when the lights were not subdued...
The presentation bored!
Filled to the brim,
And thin!
Too lean.
There was nothing between the anticipation...
And what was actually discovered to be suitable.
Not to address the appetites,
Of the surrounding on scene.
Althoug the build up was great!
But a meatless meal...
Does not leave an appreciation left to salivate.
Empty with dynamics!
And an exite done with a stomach ache.
'You referring to the meal?
The speaker?
The decorations?
Or what? '
I am talking about the whole process.
The 'or what' had more bite to it!
But I will say this...
The costuming of the event,
Was fantastic.
Regardless of the lack of substance,
To go with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is
Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.
Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.
When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.
poem by Tendai Maturure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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