In A Fighting Mood
mY FRIEND who seems to be losing his mind
is in a fighting mood
Because he loves himself too much
(Not really poetry)
He misses the mark
Delving on the ARROW
rATHER THAN the apple
He hits the forehead of the child of
William Tell
Oh, it's messy
He's messy and needs proper
Psychiatric EvALuation
Nevertheless, we still love Him
Not for what he is worth
But for what he IS.
hUMANITY, humanity
What is happening to you?
When we speak, we regret speaking.
When we write, we always feel pity at the End.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I Have The Mind And Mood Of Poetry
I HAVE THE MIND AND MOOD OF POETRY
I have the mind and mood of poetry,
But I have no poem-
And all I can do is wait
And hear the words come
And wonder whether their strength
Is in my own inner quiet
Which loves the words
And loves the poem
And loves the light from my window
And the flowers on the balcony
And all I see and feel and breathe now-
Because Love makes the universe resound
Even when there is only a small poor poem to add to it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To A Friend On The Other Side Of The Earth...
you write and i listen to each word.
you are faraway. You speak in repetitive lines.
there are standards of art.
a poem must be so and so. so does a short story.
unity of plot, choice of words,
fixing the mood and
fortifying the contextual feel.
you are mumbling poetry in winter
inside a train that travels on a speed greater than light.
tomorrow it will be at ten in the morning
when the bullet arrives at its destination
you write.... breathtaking views, flashes of memories.
i listen to a chant. i chant myself.
speaking to speaking speaking.
we are all alone. yet we cope up without any
help from them, damn carpets and
dripping roofs.
whether what you write is poetry or prose
it is not important anymore.
you are a poem that i care for.
i do not know you but there is a shadow
it is enough for me.
damn biters. damn arrivals.
i do the same. Sit back and write.
senselessly. desperately seeking what we still do not know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kong's messy poem 1
Tail of echoes
reaches the stream...
Leafs of the music tree
falls in to the waves...
Glistening waves
blows on the leaf...
A song of grace
tells my hand to write a poem...
The messy poem
turns out great...
The messy poem
is this poem...
In a Manner of Speaking
In a manner of speaking, I want to kill you,
said the drunk redneck to his wife,
In a manner of speaking, I don't love you,
said my ex (turned vegan) to me,
as I returned from a psych ward, hoping for
some sort of reconciliation,
And in a manner of speaking, the whole
world has gone to shit, that no mentally
unbalanced poet can improve upon,
In a manner of speaking, I was just a haiku
before I birthed an epic poem in 2008
and it went something like:
In a manner of speaking…
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
beer and loose women,
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
internet journals with useless information,
In a manner of speaking, there are plenty of
assholes writing about getting laid and anal sex
on MySpace,
In a manner of speaking, my friend got raped
a few years ago and now has occasional herpes
outbreaks, which are quite disturbing
to her husband,
In a manner of speaking, I'm losing faith in humanity
and love at times,
In a manner of speaking, we just go through the motions,
hoping for something to change or something
spectacular to happen.
But I don't really know any more,
trying to make sense of it all, screaming for some sort of
sanity that eludes me,
In a manner of speaking, I feel alone here,
unable to connect to what's around me-
I just told some guy at a bar that I was a Dallas Cowboys
fan and I don't even watch football,
and he told me to come in my 'gear' on Sunday,
In a manner of speaking, I feel somewhat liberated
because I have no clue as to what I'm doing,
knowing that there is really no escape.
January 8,2008
-Alexander Shaumyan
poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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Messy Daughter
Messy daughter
Messy daughter
Makes my blood boil
Ought to just
Follow after
Bin her trail
Of disaster
Put away
Put away
Is it too much to ask?
Didn't inherit
The 'tidy' gene
Well, at least
SHE'S quite clean!
poem by Stevie Taite
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Animato
Nobody's like you, no
Somebody out there better get this
Not many people can do it like this
How about some speakers to amplify me
How about a rhyme to fortify me
Life's messy so I clarify it
Simplifying things for everybody
(Chorus)
I need someone who's true
Someone who does the laundry too
So what you gonna do
Please don't forget to follow-through
I take my diamond shoes
Someone who tries to be on time
Do what you said you'll do
I hope you like to follow-through
All that I need's a bit o' practice
My mind is set on bigger business
This is not a time for reminiscing
This is something new and interesting
Why are you trying to classify it
This is music for all humanity from me
Dreaming of hip hop tunes
They say you've got the proper tools
So what you gonna do
Keep doing things the way you do
I take my diamond shoes
Someone who tries to be on time
Do what you came to do
I came to see you follow-through
>Chorus
DVD's of Elvis Presley
BBC Sessions of Led Zeppelin
Singing along to F. Mercury
Wishing he was still performing
song performed by by Utada Hikaru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Losing
Oct 2012
Losing
My love for you inspires me to write poems of love, yet mixed with sadness and sorrow.
Loss and gain of finding and losing, of regret and fulfilment,
happiness and the denial of enlightenment in reality, that I was ment to write for you.
Love, yet not to posses, or to touch.
Only to write of loss and to live in reality, to write of what I may of had...
To write how I sabotaged love.. yet still.. and how I'm too hard to like never mind to love.
Its all written down on paper, in my mind scarred and seared into my heart, im just too out of reach
for anyone to want to....
Loving you, allows me to see this... I have failed...and I thank you for this...
I hope, I'm sure, love will never come my way again.
I write it all down for you,
using red ink.
poem by Jill Laughlin
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Prosperity to humanity
Prosperity, prosperity
Prosperity to humanity
I brought to you
Love and solidarity
Peace and harmony
Kings go to war
And humanity fall
But i brought prosperity to humanity
So why then should you curse me
Instead of blessing me
I need you to love me
For it is prosperity
I brought to humanity
It power and glory to humanity
Accountability and transparency
A higher levity
Prosperity, prosperity
Prosperity to humanity
poem by Matt Ancient
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There's hope for hypocrites...
Yes, there’s hope for hypocrites –
hypocrite poets, who write
from the goodness of their hearts
of the good, the true, the beautiful;
out of the chaos of the well-intentioned
and sometime messy life;
hypocrite readers, who turn
to those same poets for reminders of
the good, the true, the beautiful
out of the chaos of the well-intentioned
and sometimes messy life;
(hypocrite editors, dare we add, who,
knowing the good, the true, the beautiful,
turn down our poems, because
it’s been said oft and better, long before…)
the blessing for all hypocrites
is that they know better; and one day…
may match their actions to their words;
words, well-intentioned, sometimes messy,
written from the goodness of their heart;
and in the heart, as given timeless time,
hypocrisy dissolves…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Worth Fighting For
You said I could never find, a way to ease your mind
But where I go you wind up in the dust
I tried so hard to have you reach another side of me
Instead you werent to nowhere and forgot
So I wonder on
Asking where you might have gone
But what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for
Diserty can wear you down, but still Im rollin through
Did I see your figure in the haze?
I am driven by your thirst, to quench myself of love
The sun beats on me for the price I pay
So I wonder on
Asking where you might have gone
From what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for,
Yeah
Night rode leads me to a town of dust
Beckon by the gloss, of jealousy, and tumble weed
There calling out
Forever more
Worth fighting for
Im leading in the wind
Head bowed down from what I saw
My shadow far a friend
Theres something that worth fighting for
So Im moving on
Asking where you might have gone
From what I knew before
Some things are worth fighting for
Worth fighting for
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby Im Losing You
Evry time we kiss I feel that somethings missing inside
Evry little glow for me has simply died
What has happened to the love
Happened to the love , the love we knew
Baby Im losing you (losing you), baby Im losing you
Even in my sleep I feel the heartache creep in my dream
All the love you had for me is gone it seems
Oh what have you done to me
Made it plain to see that we are through
Baby Im losing you (losing you),baby Im losing you
I hate to say goodbye to you
But darling what am I to do
Just a toy to play , when you are through , you throw away
Not me
If you dont need me now Ill get along somehow in my pain
Wish little boy, go find another toy for your games
And whats happening to me , Ill get by you see
Now we are through
Baby Im losing you (losing you), baby Im losing you
Baby Im losing you (losing you , baby Im losing you
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real Is Beautiful
when you go back from where you
once stayed
you notice that there is a wrong there
and it is messy
very messy
and your friends who cannot believe it
call your attention
it is a shame they say
and it will be damaging to my reputation
but i have no plan correcting it
i leave it there
to show me who i was and why i am at present
elevating myself to another level
after all i am the fruit of so many errors
an improvement of my past mistakes
and i am real
and so i leave things as they are
unretouched and no matter how erroneous they had once become
i still think
that they are so beautiful
because they are real.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Love that is pure
What I thought I can’t write.
What I wrote I can’t phone.
What I phoned, I can’t speak.
What I speak in person is dry.
Yet passion hits the shore
In your vision and your short talks.
No such happening is with others,
Even in amorous talks with them.
Is it the sign of pure love?
25.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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432
When You Got In
I Went Out
Such Is The Wrong Timing
Of Your
Compassion
Then We Talk
About The Proper Timing
Of Our Desires
You Set The Time, The Place, And The Mood
Now It Is Not Just Desire But
Love
Yes, Love,
But Sometimes I Still Wonder
What Love Is
When Two People Meet At The Proper Time
The Proper Place, And The Proper Mood
When Everything Seems Right
And Yet
Feels So Wrong
When Everything Is Supposedly Proper
And Yet
There Is Still This
Feeling Of Impropriety
I Am 48 Years Old And You Are 49
And I Am Just Asking
When We All Want To Be Inside The Room Of
Ecstacy
And Yet
They All Want Us
Out
Just Because They Also Feel
That The Timing May Be Right
But It Simply Does Not
Look All Right
And Then You Are A Little
Bit Irritated And You Ask
Finally
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Loving What You Do
it is the love
in what you do
that makes you love
even if what you
do rejects you
poetry for instance
you write with a suspicion
that someone out there
twists her lips
scratches his head
complaining that this is not the way how to do it
you may have known the devil
telling you to stop or jump or
just be one of them
in their devil-may-care attitude
you see no angel around
but your love of this work keeps you going
the passion to care
for words and arrange them to create
a picture
of your own beautiful world
a mirage of oasis for your hunger
an ice castle in your messy room
a theater where you are your own actor
and audience at the same time
who claps for you? just you
and they think you have gone out of your mind
but you are not
you feel the passion of sanity
and beauty
the urge to just be another scribbler
for nothing
this is it.
creativity, no one pushes you
no one pulls you
there is this spirit that keeps on telling
you
you are beautiful
you are divine
you are meant for something greater than yourself
you dream and that is enough reward
you do not make a name for this
beautiful ennui
sacred search
temple of the tongue
river of the mind
ivory thoughts
a fountain of feelings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How Does It Feel
I know that youre out there
Knowing that theres someone out here thinkin of you
In your heart and in your mind
I know there is no doubt that someone loves you
And I know that you know
That Ill be waiting here when you have need of me
And when the world has chained you down
I know you know my love will set you free
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
I have come to know and love you
Like Ive never known or loved another
Words have not been made
That could describe these feelings we have for each other
And I would go to any length
To let you know at all times that I care
cause I want you to know
That any time you reach for me youll find me there
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know it
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know that someone
Loves you, someone loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Someone loves you, somebody loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel to know it
Somebody loves you
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lyrical Genius,
lyrical genius,
compare the man of genius,
to all those,
who wish to reach our level,
when you see me,
I got lyric's,
The diction of poetry,
the euphoric nature,
the rythmic tone,
the man of genius reveal's some occult power,
morals and grace,
not playing the victim of false pity,
just like will power,
in nothingness of distinguish character,
the prodigy in the society,
the seeing as the menace,
the crime from man of genius,
man of genius reveal's so much poetic language,
write some classic lyric's,
think of another enigma,
nostalgia, retribution,
bloody fiend,
all those men of genius from history did these,
genius has to go with the moral's,
grace and morality,
will to create in humanity,
not to ruin humanity,
think and act right,
the world belong's to us.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Wrong Timing
when you got in
i went out
such is the wrong timing
of your
compassion
then we talk
about the proper timing
of our desires
you set the time, the place, and the mood
now it is not just desire but
love
yes, love,
but sometimes i still wonder
what love is
when two people meet at the proper time
the proper place, and the proper mood
when everything seems right
and yet
feels so wrong
when everything is supposedly proper
and yet
there is still this
feeling of impropriety
i am 48 years old and you are 49
and i am just asking
when we all want to be inside the room of
ecstacy
and yet
they all want us
out
just because they also feel
that the timing may be right
but it simply does not
look all right
and then you are a little bit irritated and you ask
finally:
why do you talk too much?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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