The spun one is not the cotton.
What I speak and write
From what I heard and stored
And from what I read and stored.
Are like the spun one from the cotton
05.07.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On the tip of your tongue.
You know, you know but can't explain
Just how or why you came to gain.
The facts stored in your memory.
Odd facts stored subconsciously.
For no good reason seemingly.
Stored away haphazardly.
Though ev'ry fact our mind has stored.
It had some reason to record.
A nugget added to the hoard.
A vast accumulation
Of useless information.
We very seldom call upon.
But when we do it's sad but true
We find that we cannot renew.
The direct link that leads us to.
The word or phrase we want to find.
Amongst those hidden in our mind.
The system is not well designed.
We can't recover what we've stored.
Our efforts totally ignored.
Our mind decides it can't afford.
To grant unlimited access.
Although it leaves us free to guess. The reason for such stubbornness.Thursday,12 April 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nectar to honey
What you saw, heard and read
Are stored in your brain.
What you think, say and write
Are their outcome.
Nectar is the impression
Honey is the expression.
Bee is the brain.
Nectar and honey are not same.
29.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Head
Revolves across the world
As aspinning word
In its orbit
With adiscovery at large
Like around about
Until it completes
All its seasons of the year
Odd ideas are stored
with aremarkable storeroom,
The computer of my focus
Which focuses ahead
like allay of lights
glaring bright
Odd brain waves are stored
In aliving room
Which stimulates
aremembrance
Oh! That doleful day,
That great joy
Of my birth day
move of the year!
Mmm...aslight laugh
penetrates in a strange
and amusing way
re-stored in my head
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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Hidden Passion
Hidden Passion,
stored locked away the thought of passion forgotten,
yet, lingering in distance air passages.
How does one recapture these floating
Ever so soft clouds of passion
to be able to put back these whispering breezes of desire?
If only it could be stored in a bottle
to be later mixed with an enticing fragrance
that is activated by gentle slow embraces of love-making
and soft touching one to the other
this scent that refills the air
getting stronger with each moment
as the passion in the both of you heats up!
Written by Rick Defalco
Copyright ©2003 Pen Name : Dream walker.
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poem by Dream Walker
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The amount of information that can be stored by the ultimate laptop, 10 to the 31st bits, is much higher than the 10 to the 10th bits stored on current laptops.
quote by Seth Lloyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Un-Common Courtesy
I know what it's like to write and to not be read -
It's much like to speak out and not be heard.
And then there is being read but not gotten back to
It's like greeting someone hello and they just walk right past you.
You are almost sure they heard you at such close proximity
And yet it seems you've been cloaked with invisibility.
So when you post all of your work with such ferocity,
Then expect to be acknowledged, why not extend the same courtesy?
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can do it!
When open the Text books to read,
The pain of sorrowed clouds spread,
The equations are to be sorted out,
The formulas are to be followed,
The stack of assignments still in head,
Not written and stored in any disk,
Time goes very fast and doubts erupts in heart,
Don't worry for a second, when you pave the road,
To the comfort and whatever you don't have now,
Will be acquired in future, be determined anew,
We are the survivors and we have survived in the world,
You can be the next to come out in flying colors,
Have courage to make the insufficiency as the tools,
To plow your heart and mind to clear ignorance,
Even if you beg for your education, it is worth,
The knowledge that you have, possess and will add,
Be educated to speak and write with no nonsense,
Friends, show our youngsters what it means.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Multifaceted health
You must have strong bones;
Do isometric exercise.
You must have healthy heart;
Do jumps and runs.
You must have toned muscles;
Do pull ups and sit ups.
You must have energy stored;
Do breathe in and breathe out.
You must beat your stress out;
Do rotate your ankles and muse.
To enrich your reflex action
Play outdoor games.
02.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Teardrops & Rainbows
When sorrow comes into our lives
and tears of sadness fall,
they never go unnoticed,
God sees them one and all.
Our tears are very precious
In the eyes of our dear Lord,
He calls them up into the clouds
where they are safely stored.
When clouds are heavy laden
from the weight which they contain,
they release the stored up moisture
and our tears are in the rain.
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Then when the rain has ended,
look to the sky above.
and when you see a rainbow
God is sending you His love.
Put all faith and trust in Him
and be comforted to know,
time will mend your broken heart
and bring a bright rainbow.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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Reality (Naani 25 syllables)
The heart is the storage house
Of deepest thoughts, feelings
The eyes mirror them
But the lips open the gates.
'The good man brings out good things out of the good stored up in his heart; the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart, the mouth speaks.'
Luke 6: 45
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Quivers Of The Heart....
THESE ARE our quivers, we have arrived at a dead end, and we face walls,
we look for the outline of a door and then a window
there is no sketch of a rectangle
or square
or a hole
we are praying for a leak of light to this dark room
existence
they say the sun does not shine anymore
the flowers are shy
and kept themselves locked in the tightness of their buds
these are the quivers of our imagined endings
our hands are shaking
the world is suffering to an earthquake of
values shattered
we like to speak only when we are far away from each other
our display of affection is well demonstrated by our constant hiding
we have devolved into shadows
and invoking words cannot take the substitute of the flesh
i am a stranger now arriving at a new place where people do not know
me.
as i speak, they continue looking outside, waiting for the right train.
i sit on a chair behind them. I sip my coffee. I pay for what i eat and drink.
i am lost, but this is what i want. I too, look outside, waiting for the right hour to arrive.
these are our quivers. We have no exact hold. Our hands are blistered with so much heat from inside our guts.
temper stored. anger contained. sorrow concealed.
one day, i shall write the poem about an annihilation of us.
when you read it, and that is the right hour, i am already gone.
nowhere. where is it? i also do not know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On A Plain
I'll start this off without any words
I got so high that I scratched 'til I bled
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
The finest day that I ever had
Was when I learned to cry on command
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
My mother died every night
It's safe to say don't quote me on that
The black sheep got blackmailed again
Forgot to put on the zip code
Somewhere I have heard this before
In a dream my memory has stored
As a defense I'm neutered and spayed
What the hell am I trying to say
It is now time to make it unclear
To write off lines that don't make sense
One more special message to go
And then I'm done then I can go home
song performed by by Nirvana from Nevermind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cotton Candy
You feel like a cotton glove?
A roaming of which my hands love.
Soft and smooth your skin
Outside and in
Sweet...
You smell of honey
Being harvest out of play
You become
A different flower
Each and every day
I slowly confess to you
My love...
As I walk gracefully
Upon your maze.
If a cotton thorn be found
I lovingly gaze
Which it is mentally...removed
A pure cotton body
To me you are
Not a flaw in sight.
I go on with my harvest
Through the night.
Dew upon the cotton
Sparkles of which are who?
Spun into candy...
I lovingly devour you.
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Valleys Of The Mind
Search the dark channels of your mind
Where anything you seek you shall find.
Hidden feelings and thoughts
that you felt had been erased
Is now in another place.
A picture frame of everything that
you’ve been through- is stored in there too.
Your mind is a library of knowledge
Where everything is stored for future use.
It holds your hopes, your dreams, your ups and downs
This is where it’ll all be found.
Loves you’ve lost, and loves you’ve gained
No two are ever the same.
Take a ride through your mind
Of different places and different times.
Then there are times when you can peek
Outside of your mind, and have your life become defined.
The valleys of the mind is a complex thing
But with each turn a memory it brings.
When you take a vacation from the
Stresses of the times, it’s because
You’ve had it in your mind
poem by Louis Rams
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What Feelings Can Do
Feelings can trigger fear or joy
They come about when perceptions
enter my neural system
And are linked to data stored there.
The sight of a beautiful flower or sunset
triggers previous feelings of joy
I have stored in my neural system
concerning the flower or sunset.
A sight or sound of an explosion
triggers previous feelings of fear
that I had when these were perceived
in my past and stored in my neural system.
It is important to take time
to evaluate the current feelings
we have before acting on them
Otherwise they will link to past data
and the strength of them will be
multiplied from past experiences.
I can savour this flower or this sunset
and appreciate it before it is consigned
automatically to my joy database
Thus consciously opening a sub directory that is
new and deeper.
I can look at where my feelings
of fear are coming from and
notice it was a car backfiring or
someone just popped a balloon.
In doing this I no longer add
to my database of fear but open
up a new directory for other sounds
that do not have the deeper fear,
associate with them.
poem by Mary Mc Creath
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard, read to grow.
quote by Lawrence Clark Powell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Ants and Life
…guess me correct
of ants and life they connect
causing a traffic jam on their trails I cannot forget
of ants as they swam from tree barks to get
a source of existence cannot let
the ants in drought to starve
for food is what they have once collected
and stored;
that which none has never rejected
nor objected
of ants and life
the futuristic species
that know when to pick up the pieces
of anything,
and the guard ants making sure nothing misses
from whence it were piled and stored
of ants and life ‘am never bored
as I observed how they nod
in respect and honor on board
as they pass each other a hustle they accord
of ants and life as they seek to conform
to a life in all its form
if ants can manage their own
why can’t we not of our own?
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing
Write long but not to be lengthy.
Write short but not to be ambiguous
How you write highlights what you write.
Write and keep in mind for whom.
04.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In This Romance
I can not do that anymore...
Keeping what I feel inside,
As if stored by a pride
Misinterpreted as being aloof and snide.
I can 'bite' back with the best.
If I chose to when I'm tested!
I can argue in debate...
To defend an ego that's unshakened.
If I did not choose to be awakened.
But I can't do that anymore!
It leaves no taste of satisfaction.
I am seeking someone I can adore.
Not someone who speaks...
And sometimes selects me to ignore!
I can not do that anymore...
Keeping what I feel inside,
As if stored by a pride
Misinterpreted as being aloof and snide.
I want to come out of that place,
And replace it with erased mistakes!
To allow my happiness to flourish!
I want to be encouraged...
And care enough to share,
With one who also wants to see...
The both of us there,
In this 'romance' that is endlessly shared!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Learning language
Hear and hear to learn hearing.
Speak and speak to learn speaking.
Read and read to learn reading.
Write and write to learn writing.
They are four ways traffic.
04.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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