We Sit On One Of The Chairs Inside This Lonely Train
we sit inside this lonely train
on a trip
that we have chosen
i look at you
writing on your laptop
but you do not mind
when our eyes meet
i evaded you by looking
over the window
the trees that pass us
and the mountains
like game cards shuffled
before us
in such a fast speed
as i see it
you look
like this poet wanting
to be alone by himself
i am a poet too
in my own right
in my own far place
away from you
i want to ask you some
existential questions
but you are so busy
and so engrossed
in deep moving thoughts
sensing our irreconcilable
differences you close
everything and transfer
to another room
wanting to be alone
with no one to talk to
except yourself
and here i am
talking to myself
like a cheap copycat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Our Differences
we sit inside this lonely train
on a trip
that we have chosen
i look at you
writing on your laptop
but you do not mind
when our eyes meet
i evaded you by looking
over the window
the trees that pass us
and the mountains
like a game cards shuffled
before us
in such a fast speed
as i see it you look
like this poet wanting
to be alone by himself
i am a poet too
in my own right
in my own far place
away from you
i want to ask you some
existential questions
but you are so busy
and so engrossed
in deep moving thoughts
sensing our irreconcilable
differences you close
everything and transfer
to another room
wanting to be alone
with no one to talk to
except yourself
and here i am
talking to myself
this bored copycat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Journey Of A Poet
A journey begins with
A thought in our mind
Words are chosen and formed.
Lines of poem
Well Written with meanings
With words of emotions and expressions
A poet starts with
An inspiration of mind,
An aspiration in soul mind
With reflection
On our life experience
We start to
Compose some
Wonderful poetry
Expressing our innermost thoughts
With deep contemplation
To put them in poetry words
A journey begins when
A poet takes his imagination
To a place where
No one ever dream or imagine before.
A poet's journey ends by
Writing another lovely poem
And deep reflection
A poet remains
As a poet
When he or she
Continue to
Write and Share
lovely poems with the world.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Lonely
Only lonely by hootie & the blowfish
Hello again
Your words they make me smile
As I drift away
In my little room upstairs
Oh I spend my nights
Imagining your face, your touch
Then I realize
How I dont even know your name
If we could share our time
Would I disappoint your fantasies?
But I believe that I could be the one youre needing
cause im
Only lonely on the inside
Didnt mean to take away your dreams
Im only lonely on the inside
When you close your eyes to your deepest thoughts
And I could start to give apologies
For all the stupid things that I will say and i
Will do
If we should ever cross the same place at the same
Time
Would your world skip a beat cause it was me?
If we could share our life
Would I disappoint your memories?
And I believe that you could be the one Im needing
And im
Only lonely on the inside
Didnt mean to take away your dreams
Im only lonely on the inside
When you close your eyes to your deepest thoughts
If I could give back your hopes, your joys, your
Treasures
Dont you think that I would change my world?
But theres so many things trying to pull us
Together
And even though were far apart I can still watch
You walk away
Only lonely on the inside
Only lonely on the inside
When you close your eyes, what do you see?
Only lonely on the inside
Didnt mean to take away your dreams
Im only lonely on the inside
In your deepest thoughts, what do you see?
Only lonely on the inside
I didnt mean, I didnt mean, to steal your dreams
Away
Im only lonely on the inside
When you close your eyes, in your deepest thoughts,
Do you see me?
Only lonely on the inside, Im only lonely when
Youre gone
Only lonely on the inside, I see you babe, I see you
Only lonely on the inside, only lonely, only lonely
On the inside
Im only lonely on the inside
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet And The Lonely Lady
one summer a poet writes about
true love
and happiness
and this lonely lady
chances upon the lines of this poet
and she has tasted the sweetness
of happiness that love can bring
she loves every word in the poem
feels the ecstasy of every line
and every night
she says she cannot sleep
thinking, feeling,
wanting to be lost and be held in
his arms
she decides to love
the poet
ultimately
she travels to the place stated in his address
hoping to see him
so she will finally know
his love that touches her
in the bottom
of her heart
only to find out
it is sad
that the address does not exist
and the poet does not live there
and does not even
exist
perhaps only in the imagination
of those who want to love
and be loved
she is so sad she jumps into
a conclusion that love is a
lie
that the poet is a
liar
since then, she stops reading the poems
of that poet
(or any other poet)
who never dies
because he for once never ever lived
in the first place
except the poem
perhaps
which to date still convinces lonely ladies to live and believe
to love and be loved
that which defines
what love is
where love is found
and find it somehow in the arms of one
who is real, like it is alive, like it is true
to the one beside her
who touches her
with his
warm hands
who melts
her in his eyes
because
even unwritten by any poet
this love is still so beautiful....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wanting To Be Near You
Wanting to be near you.
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
Baby.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
Until the end.
Somedays I feel defeat.
And this shows.
Somedays I'm not as strong...
Or comfortable.
I can be weak in mind.
And from time to time...
I am needing more from you!
You're deep within my heart.
This you should know.
Right from the very start,
We were one.
And if I've said or done,
Something you can't forgive.
Please tell me then and there!
Make me be aware,
Instantly!
Baby.
I'm wanting to be near you!
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
'Til the end.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
With no one and nothing,
In between!
Wanting to be near you.
Wanting to be near you,
Once again.
Baby.
And wanting you to know,
I am your friend...
Until the end,
Of time!
I am wanting to be near you.
Come what may.
Everyday...
We live.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Alien...
it is never the desire
of him
who writes so well to become another poet in the halls of fame,
no, not, and far from it,
all that he did was merely to unload
what was in his mind
on those dark nights
when he felt terribly
either sad, or horrified or lonely,
it is only sometimes when
he felt bliss
or those tiny pieces of happy
minutes that
comfort his mind
that eases his heart
on this long and lonely journey
toward a faraway place
which he thinks he must have been
but he cannot anymore remember
except that feeling
of
missing, that longing that no word has ever filled
that nostalgia that never disappears
while waiting
while standing by
on a train station that takes him back
to a rented room
while sitting on a chair as everything flashes
on him
like lightning
when he sees only shadows of trees
and rooftops
and then the heavy rain
compels him to close the window
though
this time
brave as he is on his own
there are no
more tears...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Encounter...
in that encounter
the day becomes a mirror
as i begin to see every part of you in me.
the same eyes
longing for the outside game
the same feet wanting to walk all the edges of this earth
you are asking questions
that need the answers to the same questions over and over again
i play this game too
and even though i am bored i make you feel that this is interesting
i talk to fill the missing words in your mouth
and you listen
hoping to find inside me what you have been looking for
it will take a long time for you to know that i am just
another sea breeze
kissing sands and stones.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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55
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ritual of morning
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't know that I ever wanted greatness, on its own. It seems rather like wanting to be an engineer, rather than wanting to design something--or wanting to be a writer, rather than wanting to write. It should be a by-product, not a thing in itself. Otherwise, it's just an ego trip.
quote by Roger Zelazny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was 18
Writing to my love once again
Wanting to just go to Texas
The days are slow but fast
Long but short I have to wait
A letter of impatient to graduate
I write to him
I was 18
The X's on my calendar represent
The train cars that I've lived though
And the ones that I have left
I live without him
I was 18
As the months get shorter to the end
I get less and less brave
Once a recorded braking wait trainer
Now a frightened fifth grader or it seams
Unsure about the next step
I was 18
With that gown just around the corner
Scared to death of not wearing it
Just because of one class
But knowing I will pass
I was18
Stuck between a child and an adult
Not really wanting to be either one
Just wanting to have the same
Bread and water
Stuck here in high school
I was 18
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Proud poet
I’m a Poet
I’m a poet because I Love Poetry
I love expressing myself in writing
I expressing myself in word
I express myself wanting to make a statement
I love making an impression
I wanna suppress depression
Suppress the painful feeling inside
Express and get rid of the depression that is stressing
Forcing me to go for counseling
So I write to be right
I write and to recite
Poetry releases the frustrations
Poetry frees prisoned souls
My personality improves
As I grow with my knowledge and experience
Why should there be competition
Why should you diss me
I ain’t trying to hate
Just trying to release my thoughts
I’m a poet by birth
I’m a poet by growth
I’m a poet by nature
I’m a conscious woman of poetry
I’m a respectful woman of poetry
I’m a confident woman of poetry
I’m a phenomenal woman of poetry
And this is only an opinion
Yet a true confession.
Zanele F Mavuso
poem by Zanele Mavuso
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Up Inside My Head
I want to love you,
Like...
Corn on the cobb just dripping with butter.
I do.
I want to love you,
Like...
A slice of pound cake and icecream.
But...
I'm feeling like I'm floating in a boat,
Without a rudder.
And...
I'm wanting to scream,
Help me.
Help.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
Help.
And I'm wanting to scream...
Help me.
I want to love you,
Like...
Saugage, eggs and pancakes.
With powered sugar mixed with cinnamon.
I want to love you,
Like...
The maple syrup I pour to spread.
But...
I don't want you that close to be next to me,
Inside my head.
No!
I want to love you,
But...
I don't want you that close to be next to me,
Up inside my head.
No!
I want to love you,
But...
I don't want you that close,
Squeezing next to me...
And,
Up inside my head.
No!
Up inside my head.
No!
Up inside my head.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This Poet Is Always Beside You
You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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a home (after watching Fiddler on the Roof)
people are moving out
from what they once call
their homes,
daughters wanting to go
with their new found lover
so he may not be lonely
so she can help him
in his work
on the train she tells her
father she is going home
to where her heart is,
away from those
who are once close to her
the train moves on
snow falls
and the father stares the
departing
melting into a shadow
in the air
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet
I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET
I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Of This
With all of this I know now
Everything inside of my head
It all just goes to show how
Nothing I know changes me at all
Again I wait for this to change instead
To tear the world in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
With all of this I feel now
Everything inside of my heart
It all just seems to be how
Nothing I feel pulls at me at all
Again I wait for this to pull apart
To break my time in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all I'm always wanting
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all:
I'm always wanting you
Yeah I'm always wanting you
I'm always wanting you
Use me Holly come on and use me
We know where we go
Use me Holly come on and use me
We go where we know
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all I'm always wanting
She's all I need
She's all I dream
She's all:
I'm always wanting you
Yeah I'm always wanting you
I'm always wanting you
>At all again I wait for this
>To feel the home
>To shake the sky in two
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
Another night with her
But I'm always wanting you
song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem To A Poets!
the poet see crooked
and talk weird too
like a drunk
perdition in his insane!
No one can understand a Poet
Just you and me, like poet we are
The poet say 'Dr. Jivago'?
It means like a movie? No
it means my love for you! ! !
Or he asks yourself, Am I Evil?
No, he does not evil
I am in silence, affirm the poet! ! !
In silence never he will be
BONG, kick the can! ! !
WAR
AAA
RAW
in silence he is!
Trapped in a tower
a terrible place
just for one second to rest
like almost all of us
He said' I gone'
but gone like no one
gone with strenght
strange and revolutionary Poet!
No one can understand a Poet
Just you and me, like poet we are! ! !
poem by Mirna Morgan
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