Coin Bank (A Cinquain)
When unfilled there
is no sound; one-half it
jingles and jangles; wholly full
soundless.
poem by Rizvana Parveen
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Half Blooded Brothers
You my blood half or full were brothers, regardless of what you do to each other, you my brother half or full, .
We keep each other good, you my brother half or full. We take care of each other, because we brothers half or full.
Imma stop trippin, it'll take a while, because im use to bullshittin and prickin, but you my brother half or full.
Stick together we will stay alive, all the bullshit I said, I've been a asshole, shit who hasn't, but you my brother half or full and I guess that's what family does.
Arguments and verbal brutality towards one another is what we do, because we will always be brothers half or full. Blood half or full, it doesn't matter, because we are brothers till the end of time, your my brother half or full.
poem by Arthur V. Miller III
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The Jingles From My Childhood
I still remember the jingles of my childhood
Run, run, run there is a fire on the mountain
Such sweat melodies that never brought bad mood
As my mum would always send me to the fountain
I still remember the jingle of my childhood
Pampanaaaa, were I used to run and hide
In those pitiful dark places in my neighborhood
Before my dad calls me out to wine and dine
I still remember the jingles of my childhood
An hwe weytsere oo obi ba oo, as my head feels drowsy
As if the drunkard's pot was the only thing I lived on as my food
Though when I return from such voyage my mum would show no mercy
I still remember the jingles of my childhood
Were I meet my sweetest love
We used to play mum and dad
On those very hot afternoon
poem by Samuel Donkor
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A Buried Man
A half moon at its highest point.
His first winter at the graveyard; the grey sky falls into
bits of ice: he may envy the lights of the rings of houses.
Strangers now carry parts of his life; nothing stopped, no place
unfilled, affection diluted by absence as
the darkness waters the night.
Buses crawl round the empty streets.
From a distant bar the sound of glasses and laughter,
warmth.
poem by Leslie Philibert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You Sad?
You sound so sad,
Are you really
Sad?
Is your garden
Without any
Flower?
I am sad.
You doubt the sound
Of
My sadness?
What does
Sadness really
Sound
Like?
Does it sound like
A seagull’s journey
Along soundless
Stream on a
A dimming orange
Sunset, at the
Sea’s
Horizon
Homeward bound
Alone?
Is sadness in
True sadness
Sound at
All?
Is sadness not the
Maimed mouth
& death of the
Tongue?
The sound of my sadness
Is the sound of your
Sadness
You read me
In between
Some lines
In that imaginary
Phrase
Perhaps if you look for
Some flowers, or
Even a single flower
In-there
You may find it
If you really
Insists
But
You have to put
The flower
Yourself
Out-there
Sowing the seed
Of sensitivities
Who knows
If later, happiness
Grows
Like some unwanted
Weeds &
They would be many,
Not just one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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breaking Of The Covalent Bond
I
Had seen
The union unique
Melting completely like a lead
A spirit full of glass half is you half is me
We drank together to be one and blotting out being two
Blowing out independent existence making a covalent bond
We were one minstrel singing song sweet in alleys and street
A sound boom bang we misunderstood, no more I sing
A bone in the throat and forget the rhythm and tune
Now I am a poet of pain and melancholy I drink
But sorrow, live but without soul, half you
Snatched and half with me Dead I see
Dream but breaking sound
Of cracking sea making
A wave tumultuous
Threatening
Me to tear
Apart.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Nature
As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Girl of Fifteen
Girl of fifteen,
I see you each morning from my window
As you pass on your way to school.
I do more than see, I watch you.
I furtively draw the curtain aside.
And my heart leaps through my eyes
And follows you down the street;
Leaving me behind, half-hid
And wholly ashamed.
What holds me back,
Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed,
But my forty years beyond your fifteen?
Girl of fifteen, as you pass
There passes, too, a lightning flash of time
In which you lift those forty summers off my head,
And take those forty winters out of my heart.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Man Sees The Remainder In Woman
A woman at twenty is the cup full,
In forty the cup half full, not half empty
And in sixty a quarter full to men,
Who see in women only the remainder.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
My Choice
There's a cup half full
and one half empty.
From which one shall I drink?
I will always drink
from the one half full
for I'm an optimist.
Iwill not drink
from a cup half empty
for then I will persist
with a fear of losing
and never having enough.
So set 2 cups before me
My decision isn't tough.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Questions (feat. Miho Hatori)
Is the cup half empty, or is the cup half full?
Does the sun rise at dawn, or does the earth just spin along?
Or is it all perspective on how we see the world?
How many countless life forms are on a little ball that twirls?
Are we intrinsically separate beings?
Or could we possibly be parts of the same thing?
Water feeds the plants and the sunshine makes them grow,
So how can anyone be an island on their own?
Does life make me happy, or does it bring me down?
Do I have what I need, or do I just want what's around?
Am I seeing truth, or do I just see wool?
Well is the cup half empty, or is the cup half full
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cat Among The Chickens
Stalking,
Prowling,
Through ocean of feathers,
The murder would be soundless,
Not even a squark,
As the paw smashed through the air,
And landed in the back of the prey,
And soundless it fell to the ground,
And was dragged from the pens,
By the serial mass murder,
The cat among the chickens!
poem by Nick Hilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Feeling Of Half-ness
i had long known that i cannot be full
i am always a glass half full.
This feeling of not having gone at length
to the place where i want to put all my legs and my hands
and let them do something that is so complete.
My cheeks are blushing.
My ears do not fully hear what I am saying to my heart.
My heart beats but always in half notes
In Whispers so that You may not hear everything
That I want to say. Always concealing.
Hiding the true color of this state: halfway
Half asleep. Half awake.
At the middle of things, I shall always be.
I am neither the beginning
Nor the End. I want to speak, but there are no words coming.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jingle
In just a vast nothingness
You unwind, holding on to the placid moments.
You suspend your thoughts
As everything starts from there
Need to get back to the origin
So that creative cycle revolves uninterrupted.
You delve into the strings of meditative incubation
From where music germinates
And engulfs far and wide.
You conjure up postures classical
Of the temple’s architecture,
As your elements spring up
Into a grace and elegance unforgettable.
You comprehensively mesmerise
The people, the place by the
Enduring jingles of your subtle feet.
I nourish and cherish
The remains of an echo of the jingles created
On the invisible walls of my soul
Long after the show is over.
He Played to the Last String
Beads of sweat rolled, gleaming backs shook and twirled
Logs of fire added, pure smoke rose
In chorus, their voices went in unison, best steps competed
The jingles punctuated, and drums went in frenzy
His fingers danced with the harp's strings that made them wild
Alas, in crescendo, strings gave way one after and after.
Jingles and a string had to make it now, his voice punctuated
Infectious, in chorus they had applauded!
He PLAYED TO THE LAST STRING beamed the headlines.
A role in movie popped, he signed!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Heart With No Companion
I greet you from the other side
Of sorrow and despair
With a love so vast and shattered
It will reach you everywhere.
And I sing this for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled.
For the heart with no companion
For the soul without a king
For the prima ballerina
Who cannot dance to anything.
Through the days of shame that are coming
Through the nights of wild distress
Tho' your promise count for nothing
You must keep it nonetheless.
You must keep it for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled.
For the heart with no companion...
I greet you from the other side...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen from Various Positions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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East Of The Sun
Half of a letter
Tells half a story
The way I see it
It's half the worry
Where I came from
I forgot too soon...
East of the sun
And west of the moon
Money talks
And hey, I'm listening
I've lived without it
Enough to miss it
Where I'm going
I'll get there soon
East of the sun
And west of the moon
Another day leaves me aching
I try to wake up
But something's breaking
Here inside me
Deep and hollow
A sound that no other sound could follow
I know the pain
Before the wound
East of the sun
And west of the moon
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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East Of The Sun, West Of The Moon
(pal waaktaar)
Half of a letter
Tells half a story
The way I see it
Its half the worry
Where I came from
I forgot too soon...
East of the sun
And west of the moon
Money talks
And hey, Im listening
Ive lived without it
Enough to miss it
Where Im going
Ill get there soon
East of the sun
And west of the moon
Another day leaves me aching
I try to wake up
But somethings breaking
Here inside me
Deep and hollow
A sound that no other sound could follow
I know the pain
Before the wound
East of the sun
And west of the moon
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A full bottle makes no sound; a half-bottle sloshes around.