Forget Yourself
do you see life? try seeing life in me, i still have it, i keep it in my palm
it is warm and beating and soft and tender
try it with new things, as others do, buying a new fashionable coat
a glittering diamond ring for your loved one,
try literature, read a novel, read and write a poem and
yes, try too music, sing the songs of love
strum the strings of that spanish guitar, you hit the keys
of the piano, you fiddle with the violin, and strike the tight skins of the drums
with your fists and fingers
my friend this world is so rich, and simply throbbing with its
countless treasuresand pleasures
there are still so many beautiful bodies
and beautiful souls
out there waiting for you
(claire, do not think about promiscuity,
that is far from it, just think nicely about other bodies
and souls, relating to them and be with them
in peace and harmony as friends,
as fellows)
oh, they are so interesting, and at the end you shall be happy because by
then you have already forgotten the person that saddens you
you
yes you,
you must forget yourself, that is the secret of happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Develop interest in life as you see it in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day the Piano Came
His fingers caressed the new, shiny keys, pulling out the strings
of Chopin melodies and chords that tugged at the heart.
We had never heard anything so beautiful as the gentle notes
that rolled into my ears, soft and warm. I shivered
in this warmth. It was too beautiful. This man
was a genius, bringing us this new and beautiful happiness.
That night, while everyone slept, I crept downstairs
and sat at the new piano. The smooth white glistened
under my curious fingertips. They itched to play.
This was a real piano.
I had never seen such an elegantly monstrous instrument,
and it was right here, in my house, under my fingers.
I was wrapped in bliss that night, and in the years
that followed, that silent piano brought me peace.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Changes In Her Life
SHE used to sing and dance
play the piano and strum the guitar
and fiddle the violin,
NOW, she is changed
she second fiddles with violence.
she drums the guitar, she pays the pianist.
she hates to sing and detests any dance.
AFTER, he was gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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for mifael and company Inc.
they read your poems
and all are unanimous
in giving the thumbs up
sign telling you that you
know when to go and
stop and sing and leave
their mouths gaping but
i tell you mifael and the
rest of those who are not
so popular here, you are
not good in your craft
simply because mifael
and the rest of those who
are not popular here you
are one of those who write
too carefully from the heart
and knows too well what
strings to strum what drums
to beat what piano keys to
press what chords to strike
that bleed hearts and make
them jump with joy again
mifael and company and
all those who are not popular
here, you are, to me not good,
simply because like candice
the evanescent, you're, those
categorized by this another
unpopular one, as the best of
the best that this site can
show and be proud of
pehaps not never but forever..
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Extasie
Sat we two, one another best,
Bodies were left; souls rose and met.
They transacted their love at best.
Struck by the sight of their bodies,
Motionless, the souls asked themselves:
‘Our bodies why so we forbear?
They are ours, though they are not we.’
We are flames and they are matter.
‘We owe them thanks because they thus
did us, to us, a first convoy
yielded their forces, senses to us.’
The souls returned to their bodies,
And declared in solemnity:
“To feel love, we live in bodies.”
29.10.2008
[ Based on the poem with the same title, written by the famous love poet John Donne 1572-1631]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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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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I Was Born Of Music
I was born of music, with rhythm in my blood.
My tunes are alive, and move like a rivers flood.
I walk down the long path of quivering notes,
And I make music out of legendary quotes.
Music is in my soul, I was born of its power,
It's with me every second, every minute and hour.
It is as if I was created in Cohen's Tower of song
And I feel that if that's so, it's not so wrong.
When I breathe the air that fulfills my life's dreams
What comes out is not all what it truly seems,
I exhale the music from my heart and soul,
And that is what makes my life feel very whole.
I am a river of music that flows through time
I am your love song, your rhythm and your rhyme.
I provide you comfort in your true time of need.
I am the lyrics of all life, for you all to read.
I was born of music, of this I am sure of,
Music, it consumes me, it's my only true love
Put your ear to the ground and listen to the earth
And you will hear and feel where music was birthed
Piano keys of white and black, guitar strings so thin
Drums ready to set the beat, a singer with a grin.
These are all friends of mine, that make my music bright,
These are all friends of mind that make my so life right.
REB (MARCH 2012) God Bless the music of the world, and those that make it.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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The Guitarist
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
Sealed in its case
Taking up space
I use a pick to play
The guitar, everyday
Playing a chord
Only when I'm bored
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
Its base is wood
Its strings are not
When you cannot play
There is nothing to flaunt
Before you play
Tune the sound
Strum on and on
Until a rhythm is found
Strum the strings
From room to room
The sound will ring
I
I have nothing to say
No light to use
No music to play
I'm idle
For I have
No guitar to play
poem by Pete Rivera
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What Is Beautiful
What is beautiful?
Children playing together not concerned with the color of their skin
Watching a child’s creativity in playing with an imaginary friend
Every child that we see playing happily and smiling
God’s gift of a child is life’s most precious blessing
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
Watching our kids growing up during adolescence
Discover who they are; the need to “fit in” is present
They may find that during this time, life is quite stressful
Yet, they’re finding new friends and this feels wonderful
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
Teenagers that becomes so excited in going on their first date
Parents reminiscing this moment; a lost feeling that was great
Both the joy and nervousness as a teen experience a first kiss
A first kiss is an unforgettable moment; the feeling of bliss
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
Watching teenagers emerging into young men and women
They’re bodies are maturing; their emotions are growing
They are about to leave to begin working or go on to college
They will learn more about life and gain much knowledge
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
Men and women during the prime of their lives
From healthy bodies outside to wonderful spirits inside
From men’s masculinities to a women’s soft, silky skin
Their hearts are filled with love and compassion within
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
From the appearance across the sky from the setting sun
To a couple’s minds, souls, and hearts uniting as one
From the wonderful beauty in the wings of a white dove
To the warmth and the feeling of love and to be loved
This is beautiful!
What is beautiful?
We grow older; wrinkles are now showing on our face
Yet within, the same love shines through with every embrace
The beauty of our once young faces is still present in our hearts within
Life’s utmost beauty; loving the times spent with our families and friends
This is beautiful!
poem by David Hall
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It Is A Day Too Beautiful Not To Write A Poem About
IT IS A DAY TOO BEAUTIFUL NOT TO WRITE A POEM ABOUT
It is a day too beautiful not to write a poem about
Spring
Fresh air
Sun
Brightness everywhere
The happiness of simply being alive-
How I wish everyone I know and love could share it
A beautiful day
And because of its beauty
At least for this moment now
A happy one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Invitation Of The Earth To Hear Its Songs....
the earth
if you listen enough
ears on those walls
buried
to each fiber of wood
has composed a lot of songs
for the goodness
of our
souls: the songs of the sea waves
against the sands, such a shushing sound
the thin air that kisses those daffodils
the soft feet of rain tiptoeing on the grass
the whispers of the flowing waters
from your fingers to the
skins on your belly
the lips that kiss
the bodies that meet in desire
rubbing against each
other on
lonelier nights
the flights of bird wings
above the treetops
the fluttering butterflies landing on the petals of a rose
sad is the man who does not hear all these
and love life
sadder is the man who hears all these
but shuts his heart
like slamming doors
locked
without keys
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You are the poet
Poet is a journalist
Watches the feelings
Watches the emotions
Watches the world
Watches the light and
Watches the dark
He thinks everywhere
Others can’t imagine
-o-
Chasing the thoughts
Searching the words
Forming the sentences
To give the expression
To put the life in it
-o-
Poet is like a cook
Collecting good ingredients
Cooking the feelings to
Present in better way
-o-
Poet is like a soldier
Fighting in the war and
Fighting with the self
Feeling the pain and
Bleeding the emotions
Making room for self
To express the story
To save the people
-o-
Poet is like mother
Cooking the soft food
Feeding smoothly
Treating the readers like his own kids
Reader’s happiness is poet’s happiness
If you can’t praise, no problem
But don’t forget to acknowledge
-o-
Poet is the center of universe
Editors, Music directors,
Composers, singers, musicians,
Media everybody is rotating around
-o-
Poet writes to quench intellectuals
Poet writes to entertain good listeners
Poet writes to move hearts
Poet writes for a cause
Poet write for entertainment
Poets write to express themselves
Poets write to share their feelings
-o-
When time is running
Poem is the history
In present it reflects the story
Poem gives the hope in future
-o-
Poet is the planter
Plants seeds into your hearts
Make sure that it sprouts
Brings the thoughts into actions
-o-
Poet is the director behind your actions
Poet is the motivator behind your feelings
Poet is the coach who puts you on track
Poet is person whom your heart likes
-o-
Poet is the soldier when he uses poem as bullet
Poet is the coach when his poem moves your heart
Poet is the love, when he gives poem as flower
Poet is the parent, when he consoles you in your troubles
Poet is the healer who heals souls
Poet enters different roles
To justify the poem and to justify the people
-o-
Poem is the form of literature
We can find in holy books
Poem is the feelings
Poem touches the hearts
-o-
Sun can be seen in day
Moon can be seen in night
But poem is there day and night
Poem is powerful than nature
Poem don’t have life and death
Just it flows from heart to heart
Poet is the instrument
In the hands of the poem
-o-
If you drink a cup of alcohol
It may stay there just for hours
If you read a good poem
Nobody knows how long it gives the kick
-o-
When you have time, read a good poem
When you have time, write some poetry
When you have time, share a poem
-o-
You will be the poet, when you read a poem
You will be the poet, when you put on paper
You can be the poet to change your self
You can be the poet to change the world
You must be a poet, to enjoy this life
Waiting for you, to listen to your poem
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
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How beautiful is
How beautiful is the Belief, when we belief in the God
How beautiful are the Creatures, when we belief in the Creator
How beautiful is the Motherhood, when we belief in the Sacrifices
How beautiful is the Fatherhood, when we belief in the Battles
How beautiful is the Childhood, when we belief in the Innocence
How beautiful is the Dream, when we belief in the Ambition
How beautiful is the Contentment, when we belief in the Simplicity
How beautiful is the Life, when we belief in the dead
How beautiful is the Love, when we belief in the Care
How beautiful is the Happiness, when we belief in the Sadness
How beautiful is the Relationships, when we belief in the Tender
How beautiful is the Fruit, when we belief in the Farming
How beautiful is the Confidence, when we belief in Our self
How beautiful is the Beauty, when we belief in Our eyes
How beautiful is the World, when we belief in Peace
How beautiful is the Friendship, when we belief in Brotherhood
How beautiful is the Marriage, when we belief in Sharing
How beautiful is the World, when we belief in the Peace
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Bonded Souls
Although you shall never feel it, there is a soft touch
And tender kiss I give to you freely,
They shall linger longer than these bodies we posess,
After we are dust and gone from this life,
Their echoes whispering to you in your next.
In our journey through eternity we are bonded souls.
Our very beings shall cry out to one another,
Though the hands of time shall see us to our final rest,
That is not an ending for us, as a babe we are born,
With wisdom we die, if we listen within the dark of night,
Our souls can hear the echos of their past.
Two hearts entwined, two souls shared,
We are bonded souls, we are friends,
We are love to the other, a gift like no other...
Souls of age and youth we are,
Youth that requires flesh to comprehend,
And age that we know it must be,
We cannot halt our return to this mortal coil.
To learn and to love, that's what it's all for,
Flesh and bone are but the tools of a soul,
Throughout eternity we shall dance,
Forever and a day upon our stage of memories,
For we are bonded souls...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Nude In The Mirror
on a cold night
blood rushes in my head
lust blushes
and love says it cares
and ask that
we be tender and gentle to this
hugs and kisses
bodies rubbing and hands caressing
playing the music of desire
on the piano keys of the body
trembling at first and
then softens to give in to the dance
of love
eyes closed one sees the color of the world
beyond the imagination of light
the wind knows
what the dark night is adoring
mutuality, respect and openness
and then the closeness
breathtaking
a series of explosions
unhindered by your warm touch
and licks and fullness
of tongues unspeaking but
understanding the need and the
flight of two souls
fusing as one and then melting
flowing like syrup of honey
on the side of the glass
dip and sip and swallow the most
beautiful moment and then
the satisfying fullness of silence
sweet so sweet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Beloved Guitar
The long solid neck,
With flowing, refinded strings.
A base of cherry; finished wood.
Defined in figure, exquisite;
Among other things.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap.
I picked up my guitar,
And made my fingers tap.
A symphony from,
Those melodic strings.
Part of my hearts amour.
My fingers graze along,
This coppery and bronze decor.
A roughness they slide.
Along the ends;
Roughness on my fingertips.
A sliding; an arry of refreshing sounds.
One that echos into the bottem,
And emerges to astound.
My arm embraces the frame work,
A base of refined finished wood.
Tuned to a sound,
Like a guitar should.
My fingers cradle those melodic stings.
The light strum of my hand,
Makes music;
The guitar sings.
From the mouth of a speaker.
Out comes a tune.
With a cadence strum.
Fingers pressed down,
Out the music comes.
A symphony from,
This rhythmic harmony.
A tone in my soul.
A note that's always been apart of me.
A feeling I once knew.
I recall, a sound in the distance.
A beauty that plays so smooth.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap;
I picked up my guitar.
It slowly starts to come back.
That feeling, I'll never forget.
I recall, a sound not so far.
I recall, the feeling that day;
The day I picked up my beloved guitar.
poem by Jessie Jett
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Life is a Poem
Life is a Poem
Read it or Write it
Create it
Never regret it
Enjoy it
Don’t look at the Words
Forget the Poet
Read the message in it
If you like it
Adapt it
Do not reject it
Simply forget it
Read the next poem
If you like it
Embed it in the Heart
Spread the Message
Enjoy life’s Passage
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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