The Problem
the problem with us is that when we open the computer and begin
to read poetry we cannot stop, we do not know when and where to stop
we get carried away like a paper boat on the river and we do not know
where we shall be taken
and not only that
in some mysterious ways we too assume the hands of the poet his mind
his emotions contaminating us
and we (oh let me just talk about myself)
and i begin to write myself some lines
honestly not knowing where these line come from
and like ants they invade me and begin to eat me like a chunk of chocolate
or a broken biscuit or a grain of rice that they all carry like a good catch
and then i pride myself with the belief that i must still be sweet
as chocolate, crisp and tasty like a biscuit, and white and unblemished
like a grain of rice
not because i am writing poems
but because the ants too, like the river have carried me away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Chocolate Is A Food Group
I love chocolate.
So should you.
Milk chocolate,
Dark chocolate.
It's good for you, too.
Chocolate cake,
Chocolate candy,
Chocolate pie.
Take away my chocolate
And I might die.
White chocolate,
Hot chocolate,
Even chocolate soup...
Any chocolate lover knows
Chocolate is a food group.
poem by Rich Reitz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love Chocolate
I love chocolate, oh yes I do.
Eating chocolate is a must too.
I love chocolate, how about you?
They say dark chocolate is now good for you too.
I would eat chocolate while watching Mr. Magoo.
I would eat chocolate instead of dodo.
I like a good chocolate candy bar.
I would even eat chocolate from a jar.
I want to eat chocolate all day long.
Eating too much chocolate may be wrong.
They need to write about chocolate in a song.
Some people eat chocolate just to belong.
I would even eat chocolate in my Froot Loops
I would even eat chocolate with a big group.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Way At Giving Poetry A Contemporary Name
poetry is just a flow of the river, taking away what is floating there
everything, from the heart to the vastness of the sea,
you get carried, not just by the substance of the river in-itself,
but also of the sound of the flow so uniquely yours, unequaled even
by the perfection of those who were here ahead of you,
you get carried away, you become the river itself, the leaf, the sand,
the bubble, the fish, the twigs, the paper boat, the shadow of the clouds
the mirror of the sky, clear so clear, murky and so murky, you flow
to be one with the sea, the horizon, you become more and less,
you get carried away both with the bulk and the bulge and the budge,
you get carried away, you lose yourself with the wind, you hear all the
sounds, you talk and walk, and then you feel the happiness of the earth
and the sky and the whole of the galaxy.
There exists no borders of time. It is all space. Bliss.
There are no lessons, not even visions, there is only the universal lull.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y.... River meets desert
A young river,
So strong
Nothing could stop it
Nothing went wrong
Big rocks in its way
No problem at all
It went over them
Around them if tall
But then it met the desert
Water sank deep into sand
Huge problem for the river
It looked like its life was to end
Desperately
It turned to our God
'Please, God help me
To get away from or over this spot'
A voice from above said
'Look at the wind in the sky
It crosses the desert so easily
So just stop to cry! '
'But I am not wind, I am water
How can I cross
Please help me
I am at a loss'
'Did you forget dear river, '
Said the voice from above
'Long time before you were a river
The wind carried you with love'
The river let its water evaporate
Allowed the wind to carry it once more
In its loving arms,
wind held the river as before
Across the desert they went
A lot of water in a big large cloud
And at the other side
The wind let it rain out
There the river again became strong
Even better and stronger than before
With much vigor it ran
For everyone to adore
Dear young men and women alike
If you meet with the desert or anything wrong
Remember who carried you
Before you became a river so strong
poem by Aufie Zophy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dark Temptation
When the sweet dish
just melts in one’s mouth
one then tends to cherish
the tasty chocolate mousse
When one drinks milkshake
especially the chocolate one
one says, ”What a tasty make! ”
and asks” How was it done? ”
When one eats a chocolate cake
they say, ”The cake was damn good”
they ask”Please tell us how it was baked
So that we can make it if we could”
But what is the main ingredient
in these superb deserts?
“Its chocolate”- THE BRILLIANT
that adds magic to these deserts
the dish then due to chocolate
becomes a temptation
and even though one is not hungry to eat a plate
he cannot undergo any restrictions
As just the sight of chocolate
makes one’s mouth to water
one is just then unable to stop oneself
and eats it like a mad-eater
It’s the taste, the taste that makes it different
the taste that’s beyond description
Hence chocolate is and will be and will always be meant
to be:
THE WORLD’S GREATEST TEMPTATION
poem by Hansika Subramanian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Paper Boat On A Murky River
on your hand is a paper boat
you made last night
on a rainy day like this
you put on a gray rain coat
the river rises
perfect for your scheme
you put the boat gently
on the brown water
white paper boat
carried by this murkiness
your hands push
the paper boat leaves
tonight you sleep on
the wooden floor
it is mahogany brown and you
become the paper boat
sailing inside your dream
the floor becomes the big river
your thoughts become the wind
your eyes become two moons
the room is as dark as the night
the dream is so alive like a mother's song.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chocolate Milk, Chocolate Syrup, Chocolate Cup
chocolate milk, chocolate syrup, chocolate cup
when im putting in chocolate syrup i put too much
i wish i had a chocolate pup in a chocolate cup
in a chocolate world!
but that would be alot to eat
for just one little girl!
if chocolate was a talent
Id be the chocolate master!
chocolate storms and tornadoes are natural chocolate disasters!
there would be chocolate houses and chocolate apartments and chocolate hotels for rent!
People eating chocolate all day without paying a single cent!
All their money would be in chocolate banks w chocolate robbers
Chocolate dinners like chocolate spaghetti and chocolate covered lobsters!
Chocolate chocolate chocolate BOOO!
(and no vanilla)
Drew
poem by Drew Bailey Golden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Times When Only By Hearing The Poems Of Others
THERE ARE TIMES WHEN ONLY BY HEARING THE POEMS OF OTHERS
There are times when only by hearing the poems of others,
Can one begin to write one’s own-
One needs the rhythm of poetry
And once one has it
One can perhaps begin.
This morning I have not listened to anyone else-
And I write these lines
Into the bare space of the page
With a tremor of doubt
At whether they are ‘poetry’.
I hear myself as a poem
But what others hear
May be something else entirely-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Does A Poem/ Not Want To Begin
WHY DOES A POEM /NOT WANT TO BEGIN
Why does a poem
Not want to begin?
Why does Silence say
It should be all and all?
Why against this
Must ‘Will’ and ‘Ambition’ come?
And force lines
As these lines forced now?
Because I am a lonely man
Who has nothing to do with himself?
But write poems
Which he dreams
Someone someday
Will read.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is No Poem To Begin The Week With
THERE IS NO POEM TO BEGIN THE WEEK WITH
There is no poem to begin the week with
Emptiness is the beginning
I try to think
I try to listen to some internal rhythm
I write words down
My thoughts are simple and self- referential
The green- yellow light is there outside my window
The world is moving
Am I writing a poem or simply writing whatever sentences come into my mind?
I sometimes think poetry never stops being written within me
At other times I believe I am just ambitious and pretentious
Today this is the beginning
These lines these words
A poem to begin the week with?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Sunshine
a grain of rice
on a table cloth
beside
a cup of hot
coffee
imperceptible
but when a connection is found
soon
the spoon and fork
shall understand
some pieces
no matter what
do not fit
on a reasonable landscape
what is the grain of rice
doing on a breakfast table?
your mind is furious
i think it is cool
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Day I Hate Rice
The day I hate rice
Is several rare day in a year
When I don't eat rice
I don't want to eat rice
I don't want to see it
Because I hate its taste
And I hate to think about it
If I have the day I hate rice
Then you'll know that I don't feel well
I'm bored of this procession
I want to run from this life
Because I begin to hate myself
...just a little while
And everything will be back to normal again
That's the meaning of
The day I hate rice
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Day
What seems like such a winter's tale
Lightening runs through the fallen flames
By kneeling down we're here to pray
At that point forsaken unafraid
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Feel my breath go cold and calm
My pride is last and I sin again
And all the seasons change their scent
A year of hell they come against my head once more
I only wanna feel you being strong
I only wanna feel you being strong
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
INSTRUMENTAL
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
Another day
Call me up and let's begin
Call me up and let's begin
You done that to me
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Poetry versus Prose
Some write their poetry almost like prose;
The two are not diff’rent in any way?
How can a thorn ever become a rose?
The grain is grain; the hay remains but hay!
But some write prose with emotions afilled;
Or add some verses in-between the lines;
One can’t become the other, howev’r skilled;
How can the noon be dawn although sun shines?
The functions poems do, prose can never,
Where right words placed, give music and rhythm;
But of the two, the poet’s cleverer;
His work is shorter, neater, and more trim.
All praise the bard; his glory’s forever!
For prose can’t stand the test of time ever!
6-25-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Spot....
this is a blank slate.
when i write some words on it
and you begin to read each
something really happens
though you do not know it
because you are too busy with
the reading of the word
either a part of me dies or lives
it depends on where you stop
and when
tomorrow i shall write again
you must learn where you stopped and
when.
it is that precise moment
that you make me begin to write again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tea Time Choice
Should I have a biscuit
to help me drink my tea
A digestive or a custard cream
or a ginger nut for me.
I could even have a carmel log
even a chocolate ginger
My tea needs something dipped in it
How about a chocolate finger
Maybe it could be something Nice
Something crunchy I can swallow
I need to compliment my tea
I could try a coconut mallow
Give me that pack of rich teas
Wait! tea and shortbread they go well
I may consider gypsy creams
Im told they taste real swell
Wait a minute, I know what,
I’ll have something quite suggestive
But It’ll melt upon your hands and face
that chocolate digestive
This is becoming to stressful
As my tea is in its cup
I’ll have a bit of toast instead
Cause I canny make my mind up.
Copyright © George Ross 2011
poem by Geordie Ross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rattled
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
You can handle this with feelings felt specific.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
You can handle this and quick.
With a healing that mends.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
No need to get annoyed,
From annoyances that sit.
Or let yourself just drift.
With experience dismissed.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
Knowing you are well equipped to face and conquer battles.
You can face conflicts,
To unravel what has rattled.
And battle anything,
If you sit tall in that saddle.
Don't think that floating boat,
You sit in needs no one to paddle.
You need to grab those paddles,
And begin to steer that boat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys and Chocolate
Boys are just like chocolate
They are incredibly sweet
Until you get to know them
And become a little obese with all the baggage they bring.
Their packages seem perfect
On the outside to the naked eye
But once you look inside
You become surprised
Because your chocolate isn’t as sweet as the first time.
Boys play games with you
They will even say that they love you
But it all turns out to be a bunch of lies.
Some people tell me that chocolate is a girls’ best friend
But boys are exactly like chocolate
They won’t be there in the end
When the walls start crashing down
And your heart is broken
That piece of chocolate will leave you to cry
So then you go to another piece of chocolate to ease your mind,
And sometimes in that bunch of unhealthy snacks
You realize you’ve overlooked the one you need
A healthy strawberry.
So you find one and relax,
You dip it in chocolate and what do you see?
The man that you’ve been wanting and will always need,
He’ll be the right one
He’ll be there for life,
And on one happy day you will become his wife
But until that day comes
And even if it leaves
You must remember that not all chocolate is sweet.
poem by Jacqualyn Abeni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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