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I write some lines and you read each word
A word excites you and you take it up to
Seed your fields where you grow your own
Shrubbery of words with tendrils climbing
I look at your garden of words and there is
This word growing into a flower attracting
Me I pick it up this sensual flower and I
Seed it in the lines of my mind now another
Bunch of words like ripe grapes I take one
Swallow it and savor the taste of its sweetness
More lines of words in my throat sliding
Through the lining of my esophagus so smooth
Going straight inside the veins leading to my heart
Sweet, so sweet I could have written the usual
Lines of “ I love you, I miss you” but I couldn’t
There is this roadblock, this writer’s block
The lines stopped, the words are stunted
I stutter, I retreat to my eyes, to see
The face of this woman I love, her eyes
Are gentle, she smiles at me, and waits
For this beautiful silence that gives her life
You stand there, looking for a hint, another
Word to seed the lines waiting to be written.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Words
Someone and someone were down by the pond
Looking for something to plant in the lawn.
Out in the fields they were turning the soil
Im sitting here hoping this water will boil
When I look through the windows and out on the road
Theyre bringing me presents and saying hello.
Singing words, words between the lines of age.
Words, words between the lines of age.
If I was a junkman selling you cars,
Washing your windows and shining your stars,
Thinking your mind was my own in a dream
What would you wonder and how would it seem?
Living in castles a bit at a time
The king started laughing and talking in rhyme.
Singing words, words between the lines of age.
Words, words between the lines of age.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem of the Ageing
A simple poem I wanted to write
The words were so clear in my mind
But my fingers were numb and sore
Lift a pencil they can't at all
Before a few lines write I could
With my signpen wrestle I should
I tried to read what I've written
And asked my self how did I fare
The words I saw were all in blur
And were in badly crooked lines
I have but lost my metering
And all my lines did hardly rhyme
My next poems shall not be written
And in my thought will just remain
Be unrecited as they may
Till in my mind they fade away
poem by Pacific Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Twenty Lines
I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.
My Ageing Poem
A simple poem I wanted to write
The words were so clear in my mind
But my fingers were numb and sore
Lift a pencil they can't at all
Before a few lines write I could
With my signpen wrestle I should
I tried to read my scribbles
And asked my self how did I fare
The words I saw were all in blur
And were in badly crooked lines
I have but lost my metering
And all my lines did hardly rhyme
My next poems shall not be written
And in my thought will just remain
Be unrecited as they may
Till in my mind they fade away
poem by Pacific Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Write A Few Lines
IF I WRITE A FEW LINES
If I write a few lines
My mind will open
My heart will take heart
I will begin to believe in myself again.
If I write a few lines
I will say that I still somewhere am alive,
Writing these lines
In such deep deep sadness and trouble,
I try
And word by word
Squeeze out a bit of Hope.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Can Read Between The Lines
Roy orbison/joe melson
Girl I got your letter telling me youre coming home tonight
The lines were sweet and tender signed with all your love
Pretty words to make me feel alright
Then I read it over I got the feeling youre not completely mine
I held it to my chest, where you always rest
And I cried cos I can read between the lines
Between the lines I see youre making believe
But I cant help it, I still want you
Between the lines its plain youre playing that old game
But I still love you, and I cant change
Baby Ill be waiting at the downtown station right on time
Reaching out to hold you, the way I always do
Ill pretend that you are only mine
And while Im loving you I cant read between the lines
While Im loving you I cant read between the lines
Transcribed by the teenking
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seeking To Uncover Hidden Meanings
If more people read words actually written,
Less time would be spent by them...
Seeking to uncover hidden meanings,
Or trying to find a way to define the mind...
Of the writer.
Or...
Make attempts to read between the lines,
When there is a lack of comprehension...
Of the lines already there that appear.
But like most folks,
Who obtain their knowledge from gossip...
A title to them given speaks,
More than their reading of words.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Like To Think That All These Are But A Game Of Words
that is the impression from the beginning
when i started to scribble
word, and more words, i assured her that they do not
mean anything at all just
words, and words and more words
that even a sunflower wilting and spreading all the seed on her feet
are nothing too but words and more words
nothing to grow nothing to expect like a sprouting something
thus my loneliness, i again assure here, is nothing but a word
my way of taking solitude on the other side to save myself
is another word, and she of course, did not believe me saying
there is more to these words, there is fire in them and i see you burning
there is the sun inside them and the letters glow and the
there is smoke rising from the heads of vowels
from the nonspeaking consonants
i keep hiding the flowers
i bury those that are alive in the silence of my pretensions
until one day she grips me like she is a knife wanting to stab me
and then she stabbed me right in my throat and there i bleed
words, words, and more words coming from the slit
bloody words, and she was convinced, until death, ... and then i vanish.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I Write These Lines
when i write these lines it is as good as
thrown paper, some words are written but
they are meant to be discarded because they have
occupied much of sadness
worn out memories
overused mumblings
they are meant to be crumpled
and thrown away
this one, this one is not meant to be kept
it is written
but meant simply to be deleted
some words are meant to be said
and be forgotten
because of pain and because they do not mean anything anymore.
goodbye lines, goodbye
take your time, there will be a little waiting
until another fool takes you in
another poet in the state of an inevitable
writer's block
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Written In Red
I am written in red,
I am sliding across the page of life.
I am racing across the lines of language.
I am red.
I write words,
I create lines and sentences,
I am kept in solitude
I am red.
I create paragraphs.
I create signatures.
I know what you're thinking before you speak,
I am red.
I cannot breath because I am enclosed in a capsule.
A capsule that covers the knowledge inside.
All I do is stare at pages,
All I know is pages,
I become apart of the pages,
And the pages become apart of me.
I become apart of english,
I become apart of words,
I am RED.
BY: Takisha Fields
poem by Kiesha fields
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Who You Are To Me
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Read These Lines This Morning
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines that are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
i, who is nothing to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Famous Movie Poem - The Reader
it pays to strip and to be read to
naked lines of old classics we can
turn and twist to fire up our fantasies
like the warm blanket on us, lines that
need no word to portray the passions
shrouding us yet revealing us to things
we never thought would be possible
your lips that read all the lines have
turned every sensuous word into walkies
blazing over the the contour of desires,
amplifier of longings, mersmerising
soft crevice a power packed dormant
volcano waits to blast all its molten years
and beneath them, beneath them
a burning secret that one day would
rummage through all the words to send
you and the world reeling with pain
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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92
when i wrote the words i love you i miss you i want you
you will by chance read these ordinary lines that a lover says to another lover faraway,
oh! My God! you really tore your heart out of your chest and threw
on the computer stand when
you write these lines
they are ordinarily said, let me tell you again,
i love you i miss you i want you on my side,
the musings sound like you and i have met and kissed
in the subway
of strangeness as i hold your hands like you are a train bar
so i may not fall away
and die like a stupid bum, but i write lines of love and missing
as i am born to love and miss
those unloved and unfound, what for too is my loneliness
and being messy,
got to go now, you did not tell me your name, and i did not tell mine,
we do not find any importance
about knowing each other at all, we just meet, i say i love you i say
i miss you, and you listen attentively and pretend you like each word,
we recall the rules of our game, for those who believe there is heaven
for those who don't keep your little space of earth,
and live, wiser, cautious, and better adjusted this time,
easy come,
easy go, there is not much pain, there is no bargain, and well
what is the gain?
now you are learning now you are saying when i go away
i miss you i love you i want you and i will not
look back at you, your tongue is so adept in your cheek.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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And then the paper is dirty
You start with a clean sheet of paper
Write some words, scribble, draw some lines
Some curves, sharp lines, tangent to bold
Lines, and rough sketches of faces and
Bodies, thin lines that get crooked from
End to end of this limited space,
You doodle, you get wild with so
Many lines unimaginable, senseless,
The paper finally looks dirty,
And you do not like it, you crumple
It and throw it in a waste basket,
You get another clean sheet,
And this time, you think what is
It really that you want to make
Out of this new clean sheet of paper.
You think, you ponder, and you need
More time this time not to waste
This clean, glossy sheet of paper.
I think you are doing well with your life.
You see you are supposed to be careful
Every word is delicate and every paper
Is actually accounted.
Never mind guilt, set it aside for a while.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Word Lines
I write
my pain
and its
just another poem
its just
the same
all the heart ache that goes onto this page
only takes me back to the place where I await
behind the curtains of an empty stage
the pain
I write
I wrote this
I locked my own cage
I threw away the key to he that did see me rage
and still
I write
yes still
I fight
hoping that I might find something you feel
because these two word lines are just rhymes
when I say them back they aren't real
I'm sick and tired of talking about better times
forcing things like a relationship two people don't really want
a mum and dad staying together for the sake of the kids when the love is really gone.
Look at this back and see my two word lines
see my two word lines
are one.
poem by Daniel McCann
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(Better) Done Than Said
(better) done than said
the sounds between the lines
of the words i speak
reminds me of the lines
i spoke in thought and trials
and the lines
within the sounds of spoken word
touched mine heart
mine dreadlocks started skanking in joy
of the music in mine thought
but til done, i thought
next to mine were time and rhythm
for less than never it were missing
the sense to do than say
and mine legs kept me in transit
mine hands touched to pick a way
whence my eyes long seen
besides, talk were amass
done; far less
than which that caught mine
til done, i do and did
done than said
the inner mine person done me
a thought to catch mine power
and grab to proceed a synergy of our
own belief to mine self and stronger
than the sounds behind the lines
of the words i speak
but from the deep lines
of the metaphor, line by talk
with mine hands holding that thought
to keep it moving and done
long before said, as done
opn01112012/0849
poem: (better) done than said
'roots of mine tree' book no.12 of 2012
november 2012
ntema's unique poetry
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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The Greater Lines Of Others
THE GREATER LINES OF OTHERS
The greater lines of others
Shadow my own.
I hear them within myself
Making mockery of the lines
I now write down.
The great poets own poetry
And we with the little words
And the big dreams
Might be wiser
To let only our silence
Speak for us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Goodbye
For you
Its all in a day
One day in a life
Its all in the one word
The one word is goodbye
For me
Its all in what you say
Though youve tried to be kind
Its all in the words
From the lips that once touched mine with a sigh
Goodbye
For you
Its all in your face
The laugh and worry lines
Its all in the one word
You hope will make you young again
Goodbye
Its all in the play
Someone speaks the line
Its all in the one word
That stops and steals the time
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
For me
Its all in a day
Its the part in life
When its all in the words
To fate and circumstance resigned
Goodbye
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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