My Age
my age is not a number.
it is the manner of gathering
words
now more careful and
choosy,
not really cool, but
just faithful
to the nuances of
every syllable
my age speaks only
for itself
since no one listens
and i am aware
about this incoming
calmness
the boring day
when you say
that i am more
irrelevant to your
presence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Have Skeletons In Your Closet
A faithful presence kept within,
Isn't in need of outside intervention.
Or someone to assess the depth of it.
A faithful presence kept within,
Has been tested through one's experiences.
And not a piece of it is scattered,
To allow judgemental critique...
Others unconsciously,
Enjoy to see another in defeat.
A faithful presence kept within,
Reflects a strength in battles against opposition.
With an emotional bleeding,
One may feel but does not show.
'You are not perfect.
I've known and have seen what you've done.
You have skeletons in your closet.
Just like everyone.'
~Those skeletons.
Were they behind door number one, two or three?
And while you were whispering behind my back...
There's not an aspect of my life,
Hidden from the eyes of God who keeps contact.~
'I know you 'sin'.'
I never said I didn't
Or will not again.
A faithful presence kept within,
Isn't in need of outside intervention.
Or someone to assess the depth of it.
I am a work-in-progess.
And 'that' I don't pretend.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Number One Through Five
Making adjustments in one's life,
To accomodate the needs for another...
Who bothers not to call or show,
To let the adjustment maker know...
Things have changed.
And time was not there,
To permit one to become aware of it!
Needs only to happen just once!
To allow this event to re-occur,
AND 'then' complain?
Should say five words,
That has particular meaning...
To the one who believes,
Patience is a virtue.
NOT!
Number one...'Yes'
Number two... 'I'
Number three..'Am'
Number four... 'A'
Number five... 'Fool'
The repeating of this,
Should do something to assist in the 'awakening'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unicorn 9
For most of those who are graced to see it, the vision’s enough –
they bring humility, are still, drink in
this creature, which for a space of time
is in this world, and yet not of this world,
who shows them who they are, and always were –
so what is known, is known; they leave its presence
as themselves.
but some find it’s quite natural to speak,
as one might bear a sacrifice in outstretched arms
of all that is and is not of themselves.
That glorious creature does not speak; but listens:
listens with, as if, the one point of its horn which brings
its ears to its eyes; gazes as it listens; a gentle, mild, sweet gaze;
listens, gazes, with its whole wise, understanding presence;
and having spoken, or not spoken, all leave
as themselves; knowing themselves to have
the whole universe as their measure.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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'Promiscuous' implies that I'm not choosy. In fact I'm very choosy. I just happen to have had a lot of choices.
quote by Jackie Weaver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Headache Makers
Why is it that headache makers,
Are the first to participate in the generating...
Of annoyances wished to inflict,
And knowing this?
Uncomfortable with social etiquette,
Headache makers have their own priority list.
And it is studied to make sure,
Those in their presence know they exist!
Number 1...Be the center of attention.
Number 2...Name dropp and embellish.
Number 3...Speak loudly and laugh at own jokes told.
Number 4...Disrespect with opinions not solicited.
Number 5...Create nicknames to call others when socializing.
Number 6...Pry and be a nuisance.
Number 7...Tell everyone present what is wrong with 'them'.
Number 8...Interrupt and interfere with other conversations.
Number 9...Suggest to host and/or hostess what needs to be done.
Number 10..Pretend to be something that one isn't.
Why is it that headache makers,
Are the first to participate in the generating...
Of annoyances wished to inflict,
And knowing this?
As they wonder why,
Very few people wish...
To be in their presence again,
Consciously!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Man And Woman, Speaking And Listening
First and Second years
of marriage:
Man speaks; woman listens
Third and Fourth years
of marriage:
Woman speaks; Man listens
All Years of marriage after:
Man and Woman shout
and all the Neighbours listen
- Chapter S^6TF57.at.j./^g87y
Ancient Wisdom Text of Man and Woman
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Faithful
Faithful to the end
She's a lover and a friend
Faithful to the end
And with this i know you can win, just stay faithful
Faithful till the end
Faithful to the end
Listen ya'll she's a mother and a wife, she is everything, faithful
Faithful to the end
Even when things go wrong and you got nobody else to call
You call on good ol' faithful
Faithful to the end
Cause i know you gotta stay faithful
Faithful to the end
She's the one that will cook and clean, wash your clothes
So you always gotta stay faithful
Faithful to the end
Ya'll just take it on home, i can't even sing no more
Faithful to the end
Yeah, i like that
song performed by by Faith Evans
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So It Will Be Taxes For The Meantime
so these weeks and for more other weeks perhaps
it will all be about taxes: allowable deductions, exemptions
and assessments, and avoidances and
perhaps evasions
be careful
be careful
do not be too gross in setting aside the poems from those
stack of notes and in depth-studies
something might go wrong
in your stock of metaphors
you need balance
have poetry during breaktime
and some more poetry before going to sleep
but i find poetry more useful
before i start my day with taxes and new laws and circulars
and even before i bang
my gavel
the poems seem to make the
reminders: this is life, this is humanity,
there is God and every man and woman and children
are his children and flock and friends
be careful
be careful
your poems shall judge you in time
and their Furies shall soon come and pull your hair
or the nymphs shall take you to the green valleys
by the side of the cool rivers
your conscience speaks to you
at night
your pillows your blankets
soon they will speak
what time is it? it's still 6: 36 in the morning here.
you see? i know that you know that i am true to what i am saying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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He who speaks too much is tiresome; he who speaks too little is boring.
Boring Lonely Day
What to do
On a boring lonely day?
How to have something to do
To keep the blues away?
I have got my papers sorted
And I am faced with a lonely boring day.
I cleaned my home yesterday.
From having a good and fun day,
I am thwarted.
The songs only make me sadder
I am having a boring lonely day.
All my games bore me now
Even when I win, it is a lonely boring day.
Having nothing to do
Makes for a boring lonely day.
And no one to do nothing with
That's the cause of the lonely boring day.
Now that I know the cause
Of my lonely boring days,
I can do something without pause
To cure my boring lonely days.
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Our Own Limitations To Write
in our own limitations
we dream what to write and we try hard to write
them all this morning in the most direct and candid manner
understandable
to get the message through each reader also looking for the cure
of their emptiness
this madness that never stops until the words have no meaning anymore
until there is no more purpose in every syllable
do not wait, just keep on going, there is this train that runs to nowhere
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What a good dog you are. What a fine dog you are. Hachi, you are the best dog in all of Japan.
Hidesaburo Ueno in speaks these words to his faithful dog (1924)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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In positive manner
It is always good and courteous to hear” thank you”
It is product of mild, appreciated manner and very true
What else we need as good response to be heard?
At least not a hostile look or harsh words to be feared
You may be unreasonable while uttering that you desired
Not chosen appropriate time when praised and admired
She was most furious, unresponsive and hostile
It had negative impact on mind meanwhile
Yet she restrained and did not loose composure
She never meant to be impolite but was unsure
She found no proper words to be responded
She had presence of mind and never depended
This was last resort to respond in positive manner
“”thank you” was to come later or sooner
It must be taken as yes from willing partner
It is not to be taken as any trade to barter
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talkin To My Heart
Written by billy burnette, deborah allen, and rafe vanhoy.
My heart is hanging on every word you say
Right now all logics stripped away
It doesnt analyze your sincerity
It only listens and believes
Dont whisper
I love you
Unless you know its true
Be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
Oh be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
Sometimes you want someone so bad you fantasize
Sometimes the heat of passion lies
Its only human to give in to what you feel
That doesnt always mean its real
Dont mislead
Dont misread
The magic of the night
Be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
Oh be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
Think about it
Sometimes its wise to wait
Think about it
Once spoken its too late
Dont whisper
I love you
Unless you know its true
Be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
Oh be careful what youre saying
Youre talkin to my heart
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hail is the Virgin
cloister of veil capture every wind
to breeze the calmness of the cool
convent, as it venture every reflection
in the garden of prayer
sleepiness voice echo in corner
wall of angelic hymn of praise, the
rainbow color chandelier view the
heavenly sky of wish amongst the
faithful breathe, like guiding clouds
of memory to heaven
feel the sound of recalling songs
of praise as it waves the mercy of
receiving blessing of hope;
tendering soul, wakes the thundering
fulfillment of rest, the home every
solemn vow of life
gladly pass gentle soul the heaven is
full of your fulfilling voice of joy.....
‘a poem Dedicated to all faithful Sister
and Nun “
poem by Antonio Liao
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There are neither good nor bad subjects. From the point of view of pure Art, you could almost establish it as an axiom that the subject is irrelevant, style itself being an absolute manner of seeing things.
quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If Silence Is My Fault
If silence is all my fault
and in paper all my words hided
under my lips as a timed bomb,
an understanding unuttered.
In paper all my words scattered
behind my image the true me lies
inside my calmness a sweetness hides.
If an utterably perfect is your blessing,
with nothing more undisplayed,
your every glance with words combined,
not a silence in any presence of you,
why not the bomb in me ignite?
and these lines of phrases,
to make homour in speach?
why not learn the uniqueness of my world?
The sweet, the bitter sweet, or the soure? ? ? ?
poem by Marbet Daniel
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Poem Versus Prose
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Enough with your predicates
And your subjects
In this poem you will find
No commas and semicolons
This poem
Is armed with rhythms
Stanzas and shifts
This poem has no end
There are no colons
In this poem
Your prose is replete with nuances
This poem echoes
The plight of the oppressed
And dispossessed
In your prose I find parentheses
This poem speaks of life
Your prose can be edited
Cut this poem and it bleeds
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Prose has pauses and hyphens
Prose comes to a stop
This poem plugs images
Even in your head
Prose deals with fiction
And nonfiction
This poem can be heard
It can be felt
It speaks of hunger
Of hopelessness
Homelessness
It speaks of a bitter reality
You do not like this poem
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Age is just a number. It's totally irrelevant unless, of course, you happen to be a bottle of wine.
quote by Joan Collins
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Poetics 7....
the words of passion
keep me alive
each syllable is a red
corpuscle
the phrases are
taking in commas,
more of them
are making life a little
bit suspenseful
hang in there
hold more hands
these commas
grip and stay cool
like a poem
heartily written
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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