Of Songs And Poems And Solitude
it is singing time
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫
with friends
♀ ♂ ♀ ♂ ♀ ♂ ♀ ♂
♀ ♂ ♀ ♂ ♀ ♂ ♀ ♂
in my house
۩
we have tea and cakes
too
still have our poetry
ﮠ ﯣ ﯟ ﻊ ﻗ ﮠ ﯟ ﻊ ﮠ ﯣ ﯟ ﻊ ﻗ ﮠ ﯟ ﻊ
and then back to my
solitude
ﻗ
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
In My World Of Work
With so much paper works piling
On my desk
▓
▓
In my world where I call
a ♠ spade
a ♠ spade
I have to sing
♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♫
a song inside my
♥
in order to survive► ♀
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song Of Love
Some songs are sad songs: dum ♪ de♪ dum♪ dum♪ dum.♪
Others are cheerful: tra ♪ la la ♫ la ling♫
And people are the same. Some may become
A sadden lot, see gloom in everything.
And then there are the opposite, see joy
In what life brings. They dance to different drums.
The sad do dum♪ de♪ de♪ dum♪ de♪ de♪ hooey♪
The merry do Tra♪ la♪ la♪ la♪ tra♪ umm♪
The moral of the story is: The Earth
Is our home and we love it, no matter
Who we might be. Our self-defining worth
Depends if we get along together.
So lets tra♪ la♪ dum♪ de♪ umm♪ tra♪ de♪
And try to live our lives in harmony.
poem by Albert Ahearn

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For A Variation
I am tired of some symbols and metaphors
☼ ☻ ☻ ☺ ♥
♣ ♠ ● ○ ♦
▓ ﮮ ﴾ ﴿ ﻀ
Let us try some notes♫ ♪ ♫ instead
A song,
And some desserts
Of the heart
♥
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When You Love Me
When you love me
♥
Do not talk about immortality
► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ► ►
I am just a man
♂
And like any other men
♂ ♂ ♂ ♂
I make some lies
﴾ ﴿
I have lots of alibis
⅓ ⅔ ⅜ ⅝ ⅞ ⅛
╥ ░
==============
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her biography
She
♀
Lives with two guys
☻ ☺
A tortoise
Ω
And some kois
‛ ‚‛ ’‘‘‛
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Weight of Poetry
Poetry is core of arts
It’s not strange!
Not knowing that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not strange as well!
The many who don’t know that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not a strange at all!
Although the poets usually make foes against vulgarity
A city makes the poets wandering on the streets
Should utterly lack of the manner and style
A society brings the resentment to the poets
Should fully lack of consciousness
Solitude is the major topic in life
Solitude is poetry
Lack of poetry, art is a form of imitation
Lack of poetry, power is a presumptuous mediocrity
Lack of poetry, fortune is a wealthy poverty
Lack of poetry, love is a superficial organ
The extreme of love- solitude
The extreme of wealth- solitude
The extreme of power – solitude
The extreme of art- solitude
The extreme of climax - solitude
The extreme of world - solitude
The extreme of planets- solitude
Those who have never explored loneliness
Can write down the weight of poetry?
poem by DePen Chang

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Solitude, Singing
Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things
Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
Transfixed by time.
poem by Rani Turton

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Accademia Dei Solinghi
KANTATE IHR VOELKER HOERT
IT is her alone
Now singing
Her lonely song
As though
She is on a very
High tower
On a very
High mountaintop.
WHAT I admire
most is her skill
Of singing
Solitude as though
It is a common
Piece
That any maiden
Of the town
Can sing
and
Sing it well.
A perfect voice
Of solitude
Singing
Alleluia
Alleluia
The God
On High
Shall come
And the
Bride must
Be ready
for the
God-groom
She sings so
Skillfully
And the mountains
And valleys and
All the people
Of the town
Listen and
They cannot
Tell what time
Is it because
All they do
Is listen to
Her as she
sings
Skillfully the
song of solitude
I too was sleepless
I learned the art
Of simply be
Myself
of simply
Be
in solitude
Unknown
to all
She sings
Because she
Is sleepy
and
She did not
Believe
in the
Power of solitude
In fact
what she
Really
believed
In and
what made
Her sing is
The power
of
Her song
It was
her
Projection
Of solitude
Which they
Really mistook
as
solitude
Her song
May be about
Solitude
She was not.
she was not really
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
House Of Pain
(GillanBradford)
Have you ever had a woman that could make you crazy
Have you ever had a woman that could drive you mad
Have you ever had a woman give you so much trouble
And the best lovin' you ever had
My friends all say I'm losing it big time
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
Back to the house of pain
Have you ever had a rock that just keeps on rollin'
Have you ever seen a train comin' down the track
Have you ever jumped into the cold, cold never
And know there's no turning back
My friends all say I'm crazy, baby
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going home
Back to the house of pain
Have you ever had a weight that was much too heavy
Have you ever had a burden that was yours alone
Have you ever spent a night when you keep on waiting
Staring at the telephone
My friends all say I'm crazy, baby
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going back to my woman
Back to the house of pain
Then I run away
(chorus)
you'll always be my inspiration
I love you from afar
song performed by by Deep Purple

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Singing All Day
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there,
Looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
Nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
My, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, tryn to remember,
Shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
Is that her in the fur coat?
No its not december yet,
My, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe shell phone me,
Singing my song, feeling so lonely.
Ill sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
song performed by by Jethro Tull

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry
Poetry.......
Poetry defines me
Poetry.......
A place where you be you and I'll be me.
Poetry.......
We are best friends for eternity.
My Poetry.......
Is the daughter of my emotion,
There I've said it, no need to interpret the connection.
Poetry.......
Where my pen and paper are sealed with a kiss,
So easy to write for my mind is a bliss.
Poetry.......
Poetry has multiple meanings,
An indescribable feeling when I realize others understand them.
My Poetry.......
It just comes natural to me.
My Poetry.......
Is out there, , , , , away from exile,
And style of writing is very versatile.
Poetry.......Poetry.......
P oetry.......
It speaks out to me.
poem by Anita Khelawan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Be Drunk
You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:"It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."
poem by Charles Baudelaire

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry acts
poem by Mark R Slaughter

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
(V – 2010) The Serenity of Solitude
At times lonely
When we go for a solitary walk
Down the silent valley of solitude:
As we whisper a casual word
It echoes back to us with a renewed energy!
That’s the serenity of solitude.
As we throw a casual glance
It captures for us a hitherto unseen beauty!
That’s the serenity of solitude.
As we touch a casual thought
It blooms before us as profound poetry!
That’s the serenity of solitude.
At times busy
Something entices us to take a solitary walk –
That’s the serenity of solitude!
That Old Piano
On a lonely corner of an old house
A permanent feature for a decade
An old piano played the living witness
Of singing and dancing till the wee hours
in the morning
Grandma and Mama made the house turn around
Playing old familiar boogie, waltz and mambo sounds
Kids just played around
Munching goodies, cookies and cakes
Oh, ... those happy days
Seeing that old piano, the living witness
Holding back these tears
But life is what is all about..
poem by Meggie Gultiano

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There Is A Time For Poetry
THERE IS A TIME FOR POETRY
There is a time for Poetry
When Life cries out desperately for Help-
Or when Love overwhelms
Or Fear comes.
Spring is a time for Poetry
And Autumn also
Winter has its Poetry
And Summer too.
There is a time for Poetry
Which is any time the human heart needs
A deep time
A sad time
A Lonely time.
Any time-
A time for Poetry- Now.
poem by Shalom Freedman

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem about Poetry - Poetry Is Not
poetry is not the rain
poetry is how the rain
beats down on your path
poetry is not in the man
poetry is how you open
his heart with your smile
poetry is not in the flowers
poetry is how you can use them
to help your friends bloom
yesterday, today, tomorrow
poetry is not the sea
poetry is how you spread your
laughter over its surging water
and count your blessing with
every shell you pick up
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All Poetry... All The Time
All Poetry … All The Time
I Love To Read In Rhythm & Rhyme
I Love To Write Of Wistful Wishes
And Lips Speak Of Love Like Bold Kisses
All Poetry … All The Time
Poetry, Is A Medication For My Mind
Poetry, Has A Power To Overthrow Pain
Poetry, Should Be Spoken, Again and Again
All Poetry … All The Time
I Am Really Thrilled To Find
More Poet Lovers, and Their Word Artistry
All The Time … All Poetry
All Poetry … All The Time
May Each Poetic Puff, Rise & Climb
Into The Clouds, Up To The Stars
(Or Maybe Just Linger, Where You Are) …
All Poetry … For All Of Time
Written & ©: 5/24/10
By: MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!