Inconsistency
When my head says I have to do this
My heart says another
And I really find this
Matter so disgusting,
How can I be objective to
Something subjective?
How can I not read the law
And apply it
And let poetry
Render an interpretation,
Absurd
How can I set the facts
Straight, punish the guilty
And have no compassion?
How can I not condemn this
Adulterer when all your sins
Go beyond what can be written
On the sand?
I have to decide, heart & reason
Learning the law, like a lover for both.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Matter To Me
Look up, the sky is crying
Endless tears
Feels like my whole worlds dying
It hurts when youre not here
cause you matter to me and thats why
You still matter to me
And thats the only reason I need, to get by
You still matter to me, yes you do
I aint no good at talkin
So girl Im tellin you straight
My heart feels just like an orphan
I hope Im not too late
cause you matter to me and thats why (and thats why)
You still matter to me
And thats the only reason I need, to get by
You still matter to me, yes you do
If I could have just one wish
Id stand you in my place
Then youd know how much I miss you
Youll never be replaced
cause you matter to me and thats why (and thats why)
You still matter to me
And thats the only reason I need, to get by
You still matter to me, yes you do
You still matter to me
And thats the only reason I need, to get by
You still matter to me, yes you do
cause you matter to me, yes you do
And thats the only reason I need, to get by (get by)
cause you matter to me, aint no lie
And thats the only reason I need, to get by (get by)
cause you matter to me, yes you do
And thats the only reason I need, aint no lie
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Objective knowledge, the idea of unity included, belongs to objective consciousness. The forms which express this knowledge when perceived by subjective consciousness are inevitably distorted and, instead of truth, they create more and more delusions. With objective consciousness it is possible to see and feel the unity of everything. But for subjective consciousness the world is split up into millions of separate and unconnected phenomena. Attempts to connect these phenomena into some sort of system in a scientific or philosophical way lead to nothing because man cannot reconstruct the idea of the whole starting from separate facts and they cannot divine the principles of the division of the whole without knowing the laws upon which this division is based.
quote by G.I. Gurdjieff
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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As a Poet
The thing I like best,
About having the freedom to express...
As a poet,
Is this:
I can choose if so desired and wished,
To be objective about it.
Whatever it is I decide to write.
And in other heartfelt touching moments,
I let others find the meaning.
To take as long as time permits,
To uncover something subjective.
With a close inspection,
Of exposed sentiments.
And I don't have to be in their presence,
To agree or disagree.
Or even like it myself.
Since when anthing I have written,
Is explored for left clues and hints...
I have moved on to create,
Other 'works' that may or may not...
Make more or even less sense.
Like this 'one'.
Someone will find worthy of debate.
Or scan through to scathe.
If it is not found to appeal to an appetite liked.
But it will be re-read.
Because poems I write sits in readers' heads.
With an intent intensively.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glorious half
Glorious half
I have clearly understood
Poetry is my compassion and nutritious food
I can survive no longer
It is appetite and hunger
I may not be good communicator
I may not have quality of good lecturer
Yet my heart longs for compassion
Ready to acknowledge flaws for admission
I don't even know where from the ideas rush in!
It may be purely divine gift and blessings
I shall claim no credit from anyone
As it is purely an advantage for single man
I move with the events and cry within
Feel anguish and salt of pinch with pain
The head aches with worldly sins
Creates pathetic and vivid picture to be seen
I write with ordinary words for mass consumption
With only aim that it may find some resumption
To start with a day and leave its outcome
To the readers and well wishers to welcome
I may be novice with many subjects
But can relate well with ideological act
I swim and sink with whatever I write
Mind is crystal clear with no wrangles to fight
I shall adore her (goddess for inspiration) picture
That provides me tomorrow's instinct for feature
That vision is almost impossible to convince
If readers fail to create an interest to evince
It shall matter less or have no significance
But rarely it may be forgotten if read once
That much confidence I have when written
See the thousands of people with an urge to ignite
Words may never vanish from the page
Sometimes may be read for coming of an age
Youngsters may read and elders just laugh
As it was in their time that I had glorious half
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written In Sand
Your eyes are the color of the sea
You look my way and the waves
Wash over me
Your body shivers with the
Fading light
You say, baby, lets just make
It last tonight.
And when the morning comes
You take me by the hand
And say our love is written in sand
Written in sand
We hear the ocean roar
Were swept away on to some
Distant shore
You whisper secrets of the heart
They keep us close when the
World keeps us apart
Until tomorrow comes
Time is on our hands
Because this love is written in
Sand
Written in sand
Solo
Nothing lies between
A woman and a man
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christ Is Only 18 Inches Away
This is something that some people would not believe,
But after they read and accept the Lord then they can understand what they will receive.
It is written in the Bible as follows, but in my words, For God so loved this Earth,
That God gave a son that had the Faith and Love for us from Birth.
For whoever believes in him,
Will not perish, but live with Christ inside of them.
Yes, this is not actually as written in the Bible,
But this for us to decide, and if you understand and choose who they want Christ or Satan it is we who are up for the gamble.
Now if we decide to take the right side and then will abide,
Because they will have Jesus deep down inside.
Deep down inside lies in our heart,
Only, if we knew about this from the start.
With this, we can now think about this in our mind,
Because with this knowledge, we can finally realize why God loved mankind.
God gave us the ability to decide and for us to go either way,
If we think of how far the distance between the Head and Heart then we realize that Christ is only 18 inches away.
poem by Frank Pulver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hesitation Dance
Like a vision standin there,
Lips poutin, a come-on stare,
Come on -- I thought I had your number,
Workin up an appetite for love,
Dont let me die of hunger,
Aint ya got no heart,
No compassion for your lover,
When I get you on the floor, I find its just another,
*hesitation dance c
You got me in a stone-cold trance
Hesitation dance
Go out and find another fool
For your game of chance*
Shut the door, draw the blinds,
Yeah baby gonna draw the lines,
Come on, I know your hearts on fire,
How could anyone who plays the part
And tastes so sweet wanna hide her heart away,
Youre my main desire --
Aint you got no heart --
No compassion for your lover,
When I get you on the floor,
I find its just another
( * repeat)
song performed by by Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Hits
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
One could send you down the river
Threes a strange way to be delivered
Would you trade your words for freedom
Thats a barter for a blind man
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Are you leveed like a treasure
Only words can help me find you
And this worlds a fickle measure
I would painfully remind you
From a wise man to your red hand
You lay covered ion our best sins
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Well I dream you constant stranger
With your best bloods and your anger
You say mother do you claim me
My beloved do you blame me
Well the first two might release you
But the last one sings in me son
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Three hits to the heart son
And the last one sings in me
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is immortal
Poetry is immortal
yet so is the oracle
but poetry is no prophecy
it is energy from an inner sanctuary
one filled with creativity and imagery
yes poetry is immortal
it dives through any portal
whether it be mind, heart or soul
it slides through like a pole
poetry is everything and nothing
it is brilliant and disgusting
but it is still poetry
a magic that is everlasting
one that is never passing
it is a miracle
poetry is immortal
poem by Adens Kamwi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crosseyed & Painless
Lost my shape-trying to act casual!
Cant stop-i might end up in the hospital
Im changing my shape-i feel like an accident
Theyre back!-to explain their experience
Isnt it weird/looks too obscure to me
Wasting away/and that was their policy
Im ready to leave-i push the fact in front of me
Facts lost-facts are never what they seem to be
Nothing there!-no information left of any kind
Lifting my head-looking for danger signs
There was a line/there was a formula
Sharp as a knife/facts cut a hole in us
There was a line/there was a forula
Sharp as a knife/facts cut a hole in us
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
The feeling returns/whenever we close out eyes
Lifting my head/looking around inside
The island of doubt-its like the taste of medicine
Working by hindsight-got the message from the oxygen
Making a list-find the cost of opportunity
Doing it right-facts are useless in emergencies
The feeling returns/whenever we close out eyes
Lifting my head/looking around inside.
Facts are simple and facts are straight
Facts are lazy and facts are late
Facts all come with points of view
Facts dont do what I want them to
Facts just twist the truth around
Facts are living turned inside out
Facts are getting the best of them
Facts are nothing on the face of things
Facts dont stain the furniture
Facts go out and slam the door
Facts are written all over your face
Facts continue to change their shape
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
Im still waiting...Im still waiting...
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because, in fact, women, feminists, do read my poetry, and they read it often with the power of their political interpretation. I don't care; that's what poetry is supposed to do.
quote by Diane Wakoski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Read my poetry
Read my poetry
My poetry is enough
My poetry is independent
My poetry creates itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is not mine
Everything belongs to my poetry
My poetry creats itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is psyche and
Alchemy in me
My poetry is independent of me.
Read my poetry
It agony its ecstasy
Its inspiration
Everything belongs to
My predecessors-poet
Read my poetry
Read my poetry.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The aged poet. For Kealan if
When he was young
and life was poetry
and poetry was life
and girls made poetry
in his heart
he’d showed his poems to
an aged poet who
was quiet a while then
nodded his head and
smiled and
said ‘keep writing’
and he swore that day
as long as he could hold a pen
he’d write some sort of poetry
and so he did and so he did
and when he was
too old to hold a pen
he spoke his poetry
some say in an Irish pub
and people came from miles around
and said sure it was a t’ousand times
better than to read his poems on the page
which was itself worth –
and that last phrase was poetry
for who is not Irish and a poet
and when he was too old
to walk down to the pub
they came and listened
at his door and at his window
and when he was too old to speak
they came to see his silence
and left as poets
for their head
had joined their heart
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here With Me
You are still here with me
In my thoughts and in my heart
In the love poetry I write
You are my muse, my hearts pride
You are my foolish smile
My guilty secret thought
You’re that twinkle in my eye
You’re so much of me
And more to discover
You are always here with me
No matter where we go
I’ll find a way to be there for you
Without a question asked
Yours is the love I feel
On which I feed to write
You are to my happy heart
A piece of my life
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Political realism believes that politics, like society in general, is governed by objective laws that have their roots in human nature. In order to improve society it is first necessary to understand the laws by which society lives. The operation of these laws being impervious to our preferences, men will challenge them only at the risk of failure. Realism, believing as it does in the objectivity of the laws of politics, must also believe in the possibility of developing a rational theory that reflects, however imperfectly and one-sidedly, these objective laws. It believes also, then, in the possibility of distinguishing in politics between truth and opinion — between what is true objectively and rationally, supported by evidence and illuminated by reason, and what is only a subjective judgment, divorced from the facts as they are and informed by prejudice and wishful thinking.
quote by Hans Morgenthau
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Great Poetry?
How could anyone ever truly
Define great poetry?
Factors are so many that contribute
To the way each person does hear-feel-and see.
The season, the day, the very time,
Along with each readers wisdom-knowledge-and mind.
A line read one day
May deeply stir the spirit
While the very next time read
The reader simply just can't 'get-it'.
Besides, who is to judge,
And who is to decide?
Who always speaks truth,
And who pray tell has never lied?
Let the one who has never struggled with emotion and word
Cast the first critical stone,
Let the pure, perfect poet
Read and write completely all alone;
Enshrined by himself
Upon his own empty throne.
After all, it is supposed to be
A bit (or more) of myth and mystery,
A little difficult to decipher, somewhat vague,
Meant to speak, but not brag.
For Goodness sake, it's poetry.
Not prose, not essay, and certainly not the news.
It's forms are many and free,
It's thoughts different and deep,
It's direction everywhere the heart can see,
It's origin, and destination, ineffable...
But to write, one must try, or die... such is the poems strength.
So, let the creator of words create.
With wild and wonderful words to decipher and debate;
And never let the beauty of it all
In trivial criticism suffocate.
What is great poetry though you still inquire?
I should have told you from the start;
(But, then you would not have listened)
Great poetry is always, and only,
Beautiful words written truly
From, and for, the heart.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Do They Think Of Poetry? ,
what do they think of poetry, ?
what do they think of poetry,
I tried to discern,
poetry is value,
They said that poetry has no diction,
Someone told me poetry is for the ladies,
I give him math and calculations,
These are the serf's of poetic value,
their criticism is all absurd,
they give limit's to it,
that they never read the deeper meaning of poetry,
They never knew it's metaphysical and deft pattern's,
math has the immutabilty,
you can never say a horse has five leg's,
but poetry is the euphoria,
the resonance,
the assonance,
the intonation,
the mutabality,
the maxim,
the troth,
just like in Crime and Punishment with character's like,
Raskolnikov,
math could not cure his indigent soul,
Only the vicissitudes and written word of empyreal value,
the contemplation,
maybe agitation of Integrated pattern's,
or maybe suffering of the soul to regain salvation.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Straight Ahead
Day by day, dream by dream.
I fight to find the way to go.
Every day opens a different door.
Every dream shadows the one before.
But slowly I can see
The way youve made for me.
Straight ahead, I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark.
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Carry on through the night,
When the road is hard to find.
Lying lights tell me to turn around.
Lying thoughts tell me Im lost not found.
But clearly I can see
Youre waiting there for me.
Straight ahead, I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark.
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead).
Straight ahead (straight ahead), I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark (through the dark).
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Straight ahead....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alley
Apply, apply
no reply.
I do not know
how to apply
what to apply
I do not know
whether I am
eligible to apply
I do not know
whether there is
age limit to apply
I do not know
what is the
last date to apply.
Apply, apply
no reply.
And you find a fly
in this alley.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write In Lead Part 2
You see I write in lead
cause having poetry impact my life
Everyday is empowering
Can't complete a thought 'cause
Before I can access feelings stored inside
My mind is weaving another strand of meaning and context
'Cause Poetry's deciphered my semantic properties
Unraveling down to the morphological units
Unlacing more of me
And that I don't need a pen
To bleed thoughts of truth
Let me know cause I don't understand
Can't put into concrete thoughts
My grasp of linguistics no longer suffice
To decode the relationship between
Mind and hand
pen and poet
Carefully marking down gibberish
Only understood by the two
I guess that's how it works
Some things have no outside reason to stand
But the only one that comes from within
An I write in lead cause
I can't get out the right pattern of words
I keep erasing
Always in search of a better way
To state how it is that I
am processing poetry
I don't want to use pen
cause fact of the matter is poetry
Shakes the profound core
My factory of thoughts
Engraved permanently in paper
Leaves no space to illustrate
How poetry pushes me to the edge of language
And then I realize
The edge is more like an extending bridge of vocabulary
I can continue building letters
Making meaning
There's no saying
Where interpretation will stop
That is what
poetry is
Making my hand ache
but the thought of not scribing
Leaves less space
For our bridge to extend
Connect To find a better way
to spill my insides out
Poetry's my speech therapy
Cause the more I interpret poetry's word
the more I record how its being comes forth
tough and registers in a soft key
Through syllables
The more clearly I see
through the lens I read
The world and my synthesis
is me
I want to take all of poetry in
So it lives endlessly in meaning
If the path of our voices crosses only momentarily
I'd like for poetry to still live through my expression
Aiding the love affair of
Mind hand and heart
poem by Samantha Campbell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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