Clarity
do not eat words
do not eat my poetry
do not attempt to chew it
do not swallow it whole like how a boa swallows the whole pig
take your time. look at it. from the first word to the last.
think of this poem as syllables, not as thoughts, not as my thoughts.
or your thoughts. think of this poem as a feeling.
a baby sleeping. a calm look at the eye. a stare.
a grip. a hand grasping another hand.
a breath suspended in cold air.
two hands in prayer. think of this as the sound of a distant bell.
an orange dressed monk walking at the shore.
a leaf falling on the white sand.
a last step on the trip.
a beginning of a dream.
do not think now. Feel the sands slipping from your fingers.
See the sands falling on the floor of the sand.
do not move. Do not swallow your saliva.
And then speak the first word of this line.
This i think is clarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Goodnight Till The Morning Sun
Walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by thoughts and narrow walls
That holds no comfort within right now
Walking
Walking beneath the sun
Yes warm
But feel embraced by the coldness
As hands touch loneliness
Down on hands and knees I go
To touch the warmth once more
But through clouds of smoke
I search for you
And the sun
Oh hear my voice upon the ocean
Within your dreams
Till the morning sun appears
And as sunshine warm your face
Open your eyes in joy
And know my thoughts are with you
But for now I am walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by narrow walls
And thoughts
That holds no comfort
But as I walk beneath the sun
Upon white sands within a dream
My heart belongs… to you
As I say goodnight
Till the morning sun.
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Pictures
The thoughts in my head are about as certain as the weather
I always want them witty but they don’t come out…
Like that
And I gotta go back to the drawing board, sharpen my pencil
Cause I can’t buy metaphors
Like I can buy stencils
So the sand keeps falling 'til my mind is all clear
And ideas stop spinning
Like I’m drunken off of beer
Then I stare and I leer in the direction of nothing
Soon ugly comparisons look
Like that little duckling
The swan looks great but must still fly to paper
And stick...
Nah that’s too easy, I’ll think of something later
An hour has passed and I see the top half of the glass
I’ve got two good lines now
But I’ll save ‘em for last
What I need is some inspiration
That’ll get the ball rollin’
From still frames to animation
Now the feature’s goin’
*This is a peek, a sneak look around
On how I take my thoughts and process them down
From a thousand different pictures with one thing in common
This is how I translate the world that I’m in
I can hear the sound effects and see the movie playing
Cross out words like an editor
As my lead gets to slaying
Every single word that’ll make you think twice
Like an anagram racecar throwin’ snake eyes?
Now the sands reverse with the opposite effect
And I see every line
Like it’s satellite direct
That’s how my thoughts beam down
Didn’t mean to barrage ya
But these words are my own
Kind of like Natasha
poem by P.R. Prosper
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You Are Asking Now For A Metaphor To Understand
i heard you when you said you find it hard to understand
my scribblings on the sand
words seem not to be related to the next word
illogical
not having a connection between their close distances
how can you connect a star to an ant
or an electric eel to a ladle
the sea to a cooking pot
something too far and something too near
the universe to a grain of sand
the wilted sunflower
to the screw of this motorcycle,
make the link, that is a challenge and you complain
i am just confusing you
there is no meaning to all these bickerings of thoughts and
anti-thoughts, you tell me
but let me ask you my friend,
how do you relate to God?
is He the same as You,
far and near
thoughts to anti-thoughts
matter to non-matter
flesh to spirit
you want a word always to correspond to an object
at first
there is no problem here but go beyond what the word
should be
or what a word must be to non-objects
you need the help somewhere
you are asking now for a metaphor
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Remember "Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since I saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can I do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember)
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl I once knew
She said that she'd be true
(Remember)
(Remember)
Remember
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
(Remember)
Remember
("Walking In The Sand")
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since i saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can i do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
(remember)
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl i once knew
She said that she'd be true
(remember)
(remember)
Remember
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
(remember)
Remember
("walking in the sand")
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Word
In the days when the God eternal
Was declining face to the new world,
By the Word they stopped the sun’s inferno,
And destroyed the towns by the Word.
And an eagle was falling at the ground,
Stars were backing to the moon in fright,
If, as made from orange flames a cloud,
Word was sailing in the heaven’s height.
Figures were involved in low action,
As the tamed, domesticated herd,
Just because all set of comprehension
From the clever figure could be learned.
The white-bearded patriarch, wish found
Good and evil by his own hands,
Deciding not to use the sacred sound,
Drew a figure by a cane in sands.
Did we not forget in troubles own:
Only Word is blessing in the world?
In the Gospel, sent to us by John,
Is the saying, that the Word is God.
We designed for it the limits, gladly –
The scant limits of the life and thoughts,
And like bees in empty hives smell badly –
Badly smell the dead forever words.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.
Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Really Impatient Poem
Some poems are impatient things!
Yes, they pace up and down!
And while they're waiting in the wings
They're prone to wear a frown...
One poem woke me up one night
And dragged me out of bed!
I trembled on the floor with fright,
Enraged and seeing red...
The poem stood there, pen in hand,
With paper I could use,
Determined I should understand
That I must not refuse...
'I've waited long enough! ' he said,
'Get started straight away! '
I started crawling back to bed,
But he forced me to stay!
He held my feet and wouldn't quit!
'O.K.! ' I told him straight,
He spoke the title bit by bit...
I said, 'That's great... just great! '
He babbled on and line by line,
I wrote it word for word,
Of course I know it wasn't mine,
For that would be absurd...
'Thank God, it's done! ' the poem smiled,
'At last it's time to rest...'
He dropped my feet, no longer wild,
As if he had been blessed...
'One day the world will read this verse!
My thoughts in every home! '
Forgive me if I'm feeling terse,
He was one nutty poem!
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Poem Life
what is...
a poem...?
some word
speaking...
some word
crying...
some word
trying...
some word
hitting...
some word
danching...
some word
loving...
some word
colling...
some word
lifing...
some word
loughing...
all the words
are poem...
feel free
your heart free..
love free
to write+ speak...
with freee...
making a poem
life your style...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I could have done other useful things than writing a poem
Sometimes I have regrets writing poems
Love poems, poems about virtue and heroism
Poems that explain myself, that justify
This nothingness
That fill this emptiness,
What are these but signs and metaphors of
My weaknesses,
Symbols of my hopelessness
Ciphers of my uselessness
To life’s dreams, unfulfilled, stars that I have not
Reach or even touch with the words in my lips
I could have danced, and danced so well
Sweat things out shedding sighs and skins on the floors
I could have played a role, acted my way out
Exiting through the doors of author’s characters
And feel this sense of
It was her it was him it was not me
Sometimes I feel
To be a poet is to be dumb and dead
To demand nothing but this honor
This laurel this principle
That I cannot eat that I cannot sell that I cannot
Make use of,
Useless poetry, trashy, nothing but bad breathes
Of my being
Foul and nauseating to my sense of
What I dream what I want to be
To be this great, respected man of power
One that commands rather than take orders
From someone claiming superior feathers
I have long wanted to stop but here I am again
An addict to poetry destined for rehabilitation
In distant cruel word processing centers
Just like you, here I am again, not stopping
My fingers always wanting to type the words
My mind always listening
my heart always mouthing
Words, words, words, these words
This poem
This poem is born and I am its tributary
I am this poet now without a face without a name
I am but a mouth, fingers to my hand
Always not stopping, how can I tell you why?
When I myself, do not really know. I am this poem
With an unknown author, I am this poem just written
Taking shape like a candle lighting,
Flowing from your thoughts
Taking the forms of beings unknown to us
We claim we understand we claim we can live with
You are now lost asking the way
You could have done other things than reading this poem
Precisely this is what I really feel. Do you feel it now?
Yes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry in Me.........
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
Anger writes the feelings in the speed of thought,
I swing the axe to split the block of inspiration
Mind Pictures in my words sleeping under dreams.
Happiness and sadness hold hands in the whirlpool of words
Metaphor movies flicker in my brain,
Venting feelings to flow from my pen,
Celestial images punctuated live as
Syllables jostle for rhythm’s flow.
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
I find comfort deep within as we write together
With your silent guide my friend,
In the cutting room snakes strangle the ‘odd’ word
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
I find comfort deep within as we write together
With your silent guide my friend,
In the cutting room snakes strangle the ‘odd’ word
Then wonders mark unfolds, originality leaps forth.
My eyes close feeling tired the hour is late
On this session I must close the gate,
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts sleep,
A silent friend to keep.
poem by Ken e Hall
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As I work with my words as medium
I want to be profound
Deep, deeper than what i
Can possible swim
But I have seen
The limitations
Of words as medium
Of my thoughts
How can I put the
Color red
Of an apple
In words
Or the scent
Of lavender
In syllables
Here you are
Reading me
And I do not want
To disappoint
You, my reader
I want to create
A world of sensations
For such is the
World of poetry
I have long wanted
You to feel
My sadness in
Letters
My loneliness
In a single
Letter
This
i
Or...... ............................... me...................................
I want you to listen
To me
In the hush of the wind
In syllables
I want you to
Read my joys
In my phrases
Sometimes
I have given
You sentences
stanzas
I want you to
Be at home
With my words
But these are
Just words
And I must
Have failed
In bringing
Back to life
Your senses
Hopelessly
They have long
been dead
words, words, words,
And
Even this whole
Poem
Is not enough
Let me try
Again
On some
Coming
Illustrations
Birds falling
Their wings clipped
Leaves blown
Detached from
Their stems
Trees threatened
About the news
Of the coming storms
Oh I am so sorry
Your senses are sleeping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sands Of Time
It was a time gone by
a time with no goodbye
but I left you
in the sand and the wind
You gave me your hand
but I couldn't hold on
you was taken
by the winds of time
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
I see your soul
dancing in the sands of time
I hold out my hand
but I just feel the sand and the wind
god forgive me
I can't go on
living in a world I don't belong
see my soul flying in the night
I will find you
no matter how long
I will find you
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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One More Day
At night the moon is looking at its phosphorescent reflection in the sea,
And seagulls are unruffled sleeping on the rocks
Only the waves caressing the sand i can hear,
In the magic silence of a sultry summer night.
I am barefoot walking on sea shore,
My feet are enjoying the relaxing warm sand,
My mind feel relieved of negative thoughts,
In this greatness that nature holds.
Peace is invading my heart tonight,
With great hopes for day that is coming,
I am feeling the sea releasing my pains,
I am feeling my heart painless and happy.
Wind is whispering gently to me a sweet poem,
Everything is so amazing, so sublime,
This silent night invites me in its magic,
To live fully one more day again.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Run My Hand
the thoughts
in me force
me to run my hand over the font
to pen me a thought
and bond
to squat me a poem in thought
like a dream that sucks my sores
between my fingers
and thumb, in scores
of many other thoughts
by the shores
stagger my mind
in awe
as i dig my mind
with the pen on my hand
between me and slightly no end
and stuck within the same band
as the music of the tip of my pen
dance to my fingers and learn
how to write; i knew not until then
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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A Ode Poem To You
My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low
My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed
To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be
Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see
poem by Twilight Simmons
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My Narrow Mind
Wicked, wicked
From the mouth I spout - o lord
Don let these thoughts come out
My knees they knock and my feet they fail
The thoughts I think I see your face turn pale
Take my hand an you will see - the one in the wayback
Take my hand an you will be the one atop the swayback
Your word so pretty
Yes I love that sound
My heart like a hammer does pound
My breath it leaves me to speak it
My legs they tremble to the ground
Wish I was a Bible thumpin fool
Ye from the old school
A mind as narrow as the road I walk
Always upright when I talk but
Take my hand and you will see...
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A last love poem
A last love poem
~
Breathless I lay sleep deprived
In a wonder of thoughts of you
Your beauty has imprisoned me
My heart subject to a fools fancy
You are there in my silent smile
Like a little glint in my eye
You’re the nervous feeling
That holds inside of me
That beautiful, beautiful dream
Were I to hold your hand
Your fingers held in my own
And lay silent beside you
Just looking face to face
Being lost in your eyes
Then falling for your smile
How I would love you
My thoughts are not my own
For they all belong to you
Now I have found to my own cost
That loving you hurts to much
So I shall try to say goodbye
The loss from my heart
Shall be lost from my mind
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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Be Original...
i can relate to you
distant friend, when in any moment
you face a blank wall,
when you cannot remember a word
when you reconstruct an adage
and suit it to your own liking,
i can very well relate to that wall
that shuts you out from any idea,
that slip of the tongue
that tip
that does not say what you want to
at this minute,
do not attempt to please
this world
do not attempt to filter thoughts
like words like pebbles
or sands with sea water escaping from
a screen
do not impress, that is the one that makes you
forget,
that lessens you
emaciating you into a clown
a page
heroes are originals, they have no fear
ugly or what, they are always what they are
be good, write the first word that comes into your mind
do not recall what beauty was there that you have first seen
contemplate, close your eyes,
see yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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