I Like This Poem
i like this poem of yours,
always unfinished, makes my imagination
run wild,
i like the words misspelled
and the lines without a period
no sense of ending
no sense of time
i like the senselessness of it all
it is so unreal
like most of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
All phenomena are real in some sense, unreal in some sense, meaningless in some sense, real and meaningless in some sense, unreal and meaningless in some sense, and real and unreal and meaningless in some sense.
quote by Robert Anton Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Make A Poem A Poem?
What makes a poem a poem
Is it the story it tells
The feeling it sells.
what makes a poem a poem
is it the history it shows
or the letters of word flow
do the lines mater it they rhyme
or not, can it be free verse of
abcabc line schem,
What makes a poem a poem
is it the words i repeat
Or the emotion they cove.
What makes a poem a poem
I Too, Like An Unfinished Poem
an unfinished poem sounds like
an incomplete sentence
sometimes just a predicate without a subject
like love unrequited
a verb without a noun
an adjective so misplaced that
it calls for an adverb
it is more like a mouth
that opens but says only some syllables
though you as the reader
understands what the poet
wants to stress and mean and accentuate
for some parts of the poem are meant
not to be finished sometimes
in fact, they are meant to be concealed
and well covered like a bikini
to your.........or the prohibited love
you still keep in your........
or the memories that hurt you and are meant
to be unsaid.......you still want her not to
know..........
i, too, like an unfinished poem
like the sketch of your secret love many, many years ago,
once when you were young
the face is unfinished, you have not drawn the eyes
of that love so profuse that no canvass could ever contain
you still like this love unfinished, who knows
the ripe time comes and both of you
will finish
the unfinished love poem soon......
or some poems cannot ever be finished
because the words to complete them still
do not exist
or they are simply missing,
too lost like you,
they are not there yet to a feeling so new
so fragile and so indescribable.....
so rare........
and i, really, like it that way the poem
unfinishes itself
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You may write a poem for me
For a start of the day
Write a poem for me
I am weary I am unhappy
I make no sense at all
After the learning and
The knowing, I learn
The senselessness of it all,
This is not my world
This is not the world
We all yearn to live
I quit I stop this thing
It is your turn now
To believe to be awed
To be human to be alive
Make me a poem
The best poem you can
Read it to me, let me
Hear your voice,
You who also ask, you
Who also want to be dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Unreal With You
I can't explain just how I feel
'Cause how I feel is so unreal.
I try to tell you but you just steal
all those words I can't reveal
'cause how I feel is so unreal
with you,
Every time we are apart
all those feelings in my heart
get all mixed up. I don't know why?
And that's why I feel
so unreal with you.
*** The sun has lost its glow
But the moon still lets me know
that I'm breathing just for you.
If I had my way with you
all my words would be taboo.
But all my words are deep inside
where all my thoughts of you reside
about how I feel so unreal
with you.
REPEAT *** with changed ending
So I'm breathing just for you
and h
'Cause how I feel is so unreal.
I try to tell you but you just steal
all those words I can't reveal
'cause how I feel is so unreal
with you,
Every time we are apart
all those feelings in my heart
get all mixed up. I don't know why?
And that's why I feel
so unreal with you.
*** The sun has lost its glow
But the moon still lets me know
that I'm breathing just for you.
If I had my way with you
all my words would be taboo.
But all my words are deep inside
where all my thoughts of you reside
about how I feel so unreal
with you.
REPEAT *** with changed ending
So I'm breathing just for you
and how I feel is so unreal
with you.
Words and Music by
EDWINA REIZER
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you loved me, you would rejoice
life to life with you
arm to arm and mind indulging
with the mind
what is it that bothers us?
a bird without wings?
a horse without hoofs?
a man without eyes?
an old woman without a
burial site? a coffin unfinished?
a poem unsigned?
unfinished business
defective structures like
house without pillars
trains without tracks
cocoons without leaves
words without meaning
a poem without a definite ending
a page without a margin
a dog without an ear
a fish not in school
there are sighs unsifted
love unrequited
And now I have told you this
before it happens....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It makes sense
When controversy surrounds
and things blow out of proportion
remember,
that tranquility still makes sense
When tension surrounds
and mind gets exhausted
remember,
that patience still makes sense
When mystery surrounds
and logic takes a backseat
remember,
that reality still makes sense
When laughter surrounds
and the vox gets too loud
remember,
that silence still makes sense
When darkness surrounds
and the heart gets out of rhythm
remember,
that hope still makes sense
poem by Deependra Kumar Jha
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Worst Poem Ever
Just some words that rhyme
What a waste of time
The writer has to be dense
Because this poem makes no sense
Want to hear the worst poem ever
It such junk well I never
Not very clever
This is the worst poem ever
I sure you could do better cause you are so clever
If you want me to write a poem my answer is NEVER
Cause this is the worst poem ever
Henry Brown 10 November 2010
poem by Henry Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Is It True?
for after all
is it true that a good poem
does not teach?
or preach?
or even tell something
so important
is it true that it simply
makes you feel?
logic is for
mathematics and
any exhortation on
how we live
and why
must be archived
in the ethics department.
this one must make sense
in the color and in the scent
and in the sweetness
or bitterness of its
words
it is more of a comma
than a period,
and some dots,
lots of dots.......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Meaning Of A Poem
THE MEANING OF A POEM
The meaning of a poem
Is written within the lines
And between them.
It is outside and around,
Under and above
Where the simple sense is.
The meaning of a poem surrounds and embeds it,
And forces it to twist and turn within and without itself,
In more directions than it itself knows.
The meaning of a poem burns-
And aches to show
Where the wound is.
Oh scars of words and simple singing melodies of light
Where is your balm of thunder and dawn, 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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uplift
On one whole bottle "uplifting!"
There is no telling what I'll do
Run head first into traffic
A mindset of annihilation
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
Your head now
Uplift - uplifting
Uplifting now
On hallucinogenic "uplift"
I can step out of my body
Religion is in myself
I'll split my head in two and see you twice
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
your head now
Uplift... uplifting
Uplifting now...
Uplifting you now...
Give me alcohol extremeties
Instead of proofless christianity
Drunked up in a coma place
Critics disgusted
song performed by by Pantera from Reinventing The Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been
THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN
The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Post Your Poem Here
Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!
Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!
Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?
Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!
Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!
I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?
poem by Joe Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Makes More Sense
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
It makes more sense,
To leave a fight and not to start it.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'I'm wrong'. And then depart.
What is there to gain to carry hatred in your heart.
It makes more sense,
To leave a fight and not to start it.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'I'm wrong'. And then depart.
What is there to gain to carry hatred in your heart?
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
Yes it makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it.
Yes it makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it.
Yes this makes more sense.
There should be no doubt about it,
That it makes more sense!
Without being convinced,
To leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is An Artistry Applied
So much more is this,
Just a gathering of English words.
There is an emotional attachment to them.
With every period ending,
Each sentence that begins.
There is a process of selection.
With time taken to choose the best.
And keeping it simple for many to digest.
Giving consideration...
To those using microscopes,
For word usage to correct.
But a delight excites,
With a choice to test the minds...
Of those seeking to uncover something profound.
And 'something' complex between the lines to find.
So much more is this,
Just a gathering of English words.
There is an emotional attachment to them.
With every period ending,
Each sentence that begins.
And there is an artistry applied,
Some writers use and try to induce the eyes.
By using words like 'seduction'!
That capture minds to a familiar light.
As if moths stunned!
To become hooked and hypnotized.
And if that process does not work...
Cuss words are universal.
They seem to always maintain their worth.
No matter what the intent or context.
Just toss a few around.
An attention given can be expected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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