Sort Of Compliance....
guess you must have noticed
that for the past few days this little world has been sick
nausea as they name it has attacked the
borders of creativity
but just the same the eyes have to wake up
as a matter of habit
and the hands continue to grapple with the keys
pressing the words
sometimes the words themselves ask if they are really necessary
for this morning's attempts
the mind does not explain
everything must go and each must have a function of this certain
compliance. As days go by, there must be at least a line or two
along the doorway
Know Thyself. In fact it takes only two words
to complete what we sometimes call as the responsibility of compliance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Compliance....
there is nothing amazing
on things of compliance
duty does not glitter
it is just there for a function
it has not the passion of
the flower that blooms still
despite the deep forest
where light is nil
and waters few
perhaps it is only the dew
that pays its respect
on matters of compliance
where the heart breaks
and pain says nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry To Me
What is poetry to me- it is words of beauty-words of life
Words of love, pain and sacrifice.
Words of showing and growing and needing and feeding
Words of hope and despairs, wanting and cares.
Poetry takes you into the minds of mankind
From days of old to the present time.
Poetry takes you on trips that you've never been before
And opens up every door.
Poetry becomes a longing, a want, a desire, a need
On which your mind must feed.
It becomes a life within itself
And takes you to the heavens and down to hell.
Poetry becomes a flaming desire
And only writing can put out this fire.
I call it my passion while others say it's my obsession
Yet! No matter what they may think or say
Poetry is here to stay.
So many different types of poetry
For the different minds 'you see'.
You will always find one that will give you meaning
From a loving heart to one that's bleeding.
Jump on the bandwagon and take a hold
For with poetry ' life unfolds'.
poem by Louis Rams
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Hidden Within
I write more on some days
than I do on others.
On those days there is an urgency
hidden within what I do.
I cannot explain it,
nor do I ever try.
I just sit down, write,
and write to my hearts content.
The pouring out of words
is something I have got used to.
I write wherever I am, at home,
in my car when I am not driving of course.
Walking along the street, even in my sleep.
My mind is always active
exploring new avenues,
laying waste to more words.
It is my way of life
and I would be lost without it.
I once gave up for six or seven years,
but its pull was always there.
It’s something I will never do again.
My legacy when I leave this world
will be within my words
and any good things I have done.
Hopefully, that won’t be
for a long, long time to come.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Untitled 15
there is a mountain of words
an ocean of words
a continent of words
there is a rain of words
a flood of words
a river of words and true to their being words
they also disintegrate as syllables
on the other hand some form the clauses
conditions and terms
some make sentences and paragraphs
a world of words full of words
i am not a word and i am buried in a mountain of words
a sea of words i drown
a continent of words i am condemned to walk all the days of my life
too may words my ears do not listen anymore.
my eyes do not like to read anymore.
i like something not having to do with words.
what about a touch? what about a picture?
what about a kiss?
why don't people just make love without saying a word?
let us start touching the hearts of people
to avoid this war of words that lead us to our own perdition.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words of life
Words of Life
are changes
Words of life
is no wise fool
Is the truth
which we seek
within us
Words of life
is second chances
Forgive and but never forget
open opportunities
Words of life
is your choices
Deal or no deal
take in or take out
decision are in
our definition of description
Words of life
is us
a mystery of creativity.
Words of life
is a Confusion
not knowing life
like manual
for a car
Makes us wonder
The World of Creativity.
we are the words of life
description is describing
us.
Anniversaries
for all
the things that we both know
we don't talk about them
we start talking
about those that we pretend we do not know
you choose the words
like the way you put the right flowers in a vase
at the headboard of the bed,
and i choose the words not to hurt you
we do not look at each other's eyes
we refrain the touch
of the hands
you leave the flowers there
and i look to another direction
there are things that remain
to be done
we ought to
and then the flowers wilt
nights come and go
and then the following morning
we choose again
words, flowers,
we continue
not talking about what we already know
i guess
this is the only way how we can survive
the travails of marriage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I wish to kiss you God
Thanks for your bless
and I wish to kiss you
may you come here
and read my words
Innocents words and all the dead days over
Bribed mouths are mum to bitter truth again, you God
We do not know why you meet me these days
We folds our hands
and wish to kiss you, come here with your love
But to keep us safe words to hum
''The rich will get all the richer still
I go on keeping poverty kin
Who am I to quiz the divine will
That would very likely be a sin '; '
we meet you then
you keep me -yet days not come to love
poem by Thampi KEE
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Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Last Words Of A Poet
The last words that I ever say
will just be words that fade away
after my loves are gone.
For they are the only ones who knew
how these words that I did speak
would leave as all words do.
But still I will say them with grateful praise
so my loves will remember all their days
my joy on each new dawn.
For they were the ones whose eyes did see
all of the words I wrote
and left for them joyfully.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Things You Say
Words
Said in a careless huff as you walked away
Hurt
Words
Said in a whispered excited voice
Caused electricity in me
Words
Said in a caring loving way
Were a balm for the wound in me
Words
Said in an angry menacing way
Felt like daggers thrown at me
Words
Said like sugary sweet morning due
Caused my knees to go weak
Words
Words, Words, Words..
Your words have so much power over me
Words
Said like a magic spell
Have enchanted me
Words
You throw around those words so carelessly
Do you know
Words
How they have been affecting and inflicting me..
poem by Rabia Minhas
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I have a Web site that parents and girls can use to learn about Title IX and take action if they find their school is not in compliance. Thirty years after Title IX passed, 80 percent of schools are not in compliance.
quote by Geena Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guess (should i ever give the girl i love this., ,)
Guess....
Just guess.. they're 3 words thats it, not too hard
really just 3 words my dear
you have to figure them out right here
allow me to get close....close...
closer to you before i am taken by comatose,
let me lean in and whisper my 3 words to you
the 3 words i hope you know them too
one guess and one guess only, as i
tickle and tease you, galvanize your imagination so far as to fly
can you share my joy?
maybe you will share my joy after you guess, this isn't a decoy
I'm not running, I'm honest allow me to caress
you and fondle with your hair but guess
just 3 words,3 magic ones, last hint...closer..magic... heres the spell
it changes you and me to us, now you should know quite well
guess those magic words as i lean in close.... just three...magic..three...
as you stand here right next to me
come I'll whisper them to you
but first just guess and I will guess your next words too
3 magic words, , , , closer just three to change my story
this will fill those lines and change my life as i tickle you
and tease you, , ,3 words guess i ask you answer in four
let me caress you let me be close.... guess the words
Guess
poem by David Knox
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Dying Words
My words to her
There dying
It was a warning
I made that so clear
But every time
She Ignores them
I don't want to help
But I must
I don't like to see her in pain
So I listen
No matter what its about
I will listen
These dying words
Where a warning
That I didn't want to
But these words
I spoke of
Are dying
I may say them again
But I cant handle seeing her in pain
Why could you just see
That I warned you
You did it again
And now these words
are dying
Just lost in the past
So these are my dying words
I'm not helping you
If you get hurt this time'
You just laughed at the now dying words
I guess now you must learn
There are no happy endings
At least not yet
These are my dying words...
Lost in a memory...
poem by Lizzy Henry
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Her Confusion.
The little words, the simple moments, how they bothered.
A family that wasn’t prejudice let out the many slips.
The words that cut the confused kids mind.
That allowed the slices on the skin.
Trying to understand, trying to stay hidden.
Her little secret, her deep wounds,
Words that they let slip, unknowingly affecting.
Quietly hiding her truths away, pretending the boys were cute.
Closing her eyes to the awkward,
Letting the words go on.
She wiped her tears in the bathroom, hid the torn flesh.
Went about her long days, keeping her secret,
As the school days passed, the pills swallowed kept back the pain,
The little words, the little slips,
Digging into a confused kid’s brain
poem by KenZ Lauren
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I Remember who I lost
Like sad days I couldn’t stand,
or past loss I felt so sorrow,
I remember who I lost.
They were everything in my day, always in my heart.
I loved them and they loved me, but some where in time,
things happened.
I got caught up in confusion through my inner unconsciousness,
they were lost in the winds of circumstance.
Alone and betrayed came the ocean of tears and mark of mindlessness, all was a complete loss.
Ripped into deep things of paradox,
drifted once again past the safety line.
Even these words cry, as I set them in type,
knowing that it was everyone’s lack that brought about this smack,
that punished us all.
Again and again I loose them over and over as each light of day becomes light. When I see my eye’s in mirror I see them as living specters of love, that fade after the days concerns grip onto me.
At days end I take the steps slowly to another night that they will visit me in dreams almost like visions, crying at their presence, once again to know they are not here… with me.
I can’t find the right words to say the loss,
gravity of these heavy thought,
as I remember who I loss.
poem by Bullion Grey
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I Remeber
'All my life,
I've been searching,
until that day when,
I met you.'
These words seem foolish,
to me now,
just looking back,
I fell for that? !
What did I know,
nothing I suppose,
for now I see,
you never meant a word.
I hope one day,
I can look back,
and understand why,
you did what you did.
But until then,
I just sit,
in pain and agony,
because of you.
I hope one day,
you'll feel such pain,
then realize how badly,
you hurt me.
I know it's wrong,
to wish pain on another,
but I really want you,
to understand all this.
But that's long in the past,
though days I still dream,
of the times we shared,
and what you meant to me.
We had something special,
but it never lasted long,
but those days leading up to it,
I'll never forget.
The way you let,
your heart do the talking,
the way you just,
were all you could be.
The way our eyes met,
the way our hands touched,
such perfect days,
now just dreams.
I would get lost,
in your eyes,
and keep silent,
as you spoke.
I remember those days,
do you as well,
remember the time,
my heart skipped a beat?
The laughs,
the tears,
the love,
and warmth.
But I guess,
it's all in the past,
there's nothing I can do,
but just let go of you.
poem by Katherine Bryce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
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Lip Service
Words inspire and words destroy
Words conspire and words annoy
Words spread freedom and words detain
Words believe them in sound refrain
Words of passion in words misleading
Words without action are words without meaning
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Sonnet: Poetic Limits
Can words depict the true beauty of things?
Can words describe the truth of every scene?
Can words expound the hearts of all earthlings?
Can words decode the joy of things unseen?
Can words bring out the beauty of music?
Can words suffice to explain mysteries?
Can words repaint the beauty of a ‘pic’?
Can words spell out the taste of foods/berries?
And yet, the poet slogs with words and sounds;
With mastery and skills, unique, unknown;
And takes the reader’s hearts to divine grounds,
Or earthly terrains akin to their own.
Kudos to Bards! Who pen and sing supreme,
To create things felt/seen or in a dream.
9-21-2002
poem by John Celes
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There Are Days No Poem Can Be Written
THERE ARE DAYS NO POEM CAN BE WRITTEN
There are days no poem can be written
Grief and worry frighten the poem away
Yet the poem lives hidden
For our darkest moments our loneliest fears
Too need their poetry.
Poetry is a way of saying all we need to say
It is our deepest feeling most deeply expressed
It is all we are
The whole of our being
In words.
When a poet dies
Words die
When I will die
All I am will no longer be able to write
One more poem.
How afraid I am in the night
And how dark in the early morning before I rise
But now that I am here
Writing this
A bit of hope begins in me
And I can dream that
When I walk out the door
a few minutes from now
A new day will begin.
How many days I have left
How many poems to write
I do not know.
It is not light yet
And the darkness is still here
But I will feel the morning again
This morning
Thank G-d
You have given me so many poems.
A few small words
help me believe
I truly am alive.
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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