Tears Rolling Down
Open notebook
Closed mind
A poet's crime-
Devoid of rhyme!
Sinister tale
A fear that ails
And cripples me...
She would love
To have my name-
I know her well
She persists-
But has she changed
To someone else
Who is melting down
On my desk
As a simple thought
In other word,
A shadow woman
Without a form?
Like an answer
Captured first in my mind
And then on my tongue
And as a result,
My fingers go slowly
Down to a blank sheet
Translating this tragedy
Into another sad love poem...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Just to Get You Out and Away
The poem is stuck on my tongue, and is between the gears in my head.
It changes from a love poem then to a deep, dark, and depressing one again.
Well it did match the weather outside.
Why is it that, staring at this piece of blank paper, can’t my poem be on it.
It is a figment! No, a fragmented thought that needs to be complete.
Where’s the inspiration to draw you out?
The elegant and superfluous words need you; they call you.
They call out as did Romeo called out to fair Juliet.
Actually, the poem doesn’t want fancy word play.
Could be, maybe it should be a poem that can rhyme...with time!
Thinking about that, I don’t think so.
This poem is stubborn to bring forth.
Screw you undetermined poem ever changing in my head!
Here I’ll write one for you.
In this, I expel you from clogging my thoughts.
Go now, drift into someone else’s mind.
Stop there concentration until they rid of you.
Written: November 18,2010
poem by Ryan Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Love Is Gone
When love is gone,
Beauty slowly disappears,
Feelings drowned in a sea of tears
Departure becomes a new song...
Captivated I was by your beauty,
Perplexed by your stamina and wonder,
But your betrayal caused me fury,
Now, of your distorted image, I ponder..
With tenderness and emotion,
Your heart I furnished,
And a great passion I tried to preserve,
But for someone's else crime,
I was unfairly punished,
Leaving me with the bitter taste
Of a poem without a rhyme...
Guess, it is just fate,
So much love, so much devotion,
I stumbled, but thank the Lord,
I survived..! ! !
Now feeling good I remained,
Knowing that I never gave up,
Without a fight!
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stream Of Consciousness
Stream of consciousness
Thoughts that come at random
With no foresight and no plan
My fingers type at their own volition
With no structured idea at hand
I live in an environment of inquietude
In an ambiance of unease and perhaps fear
There’s a weight upon my forehead
A sense of loss of things I hold dear
Today’s a day much like any other
I read, I eat, yet feel so incomplete,
and blandly smiling at me in calm so replete
On my desk, photos of sisters and brother
Just to sit and compose idle randomness
At my desk, takes my mind away for a bit
Yet at the back of my mind sits emptyness
And knowing I cannot escape from it
This bit of inane exposition
Is from my fingers and not of my mind
I try to stop all conscious thought
And let my fingers write blind
My busy fingers put a name
To unconscious sentiments so sad
Stream of consciousness
says more of the same…and that..
I’m slowly going mad
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Naked Language
The heart is deceived by a muted tongue
That is bound by captivity...
A feeble voice- Uncertain wrong
Is divested of word's gravity...
Let my silence be stripped of a story,
A naked language barely heard,
Below the surface a deeper need
Damns the mind which bridges no word...
I told of nothing at all when I called,
So imprisoned was I by fear
That if I saw an open door
I would not trust it not to disappear...
The walls around have been tightly closing,
Pressing out the air from my lungs
Trapping myself within a building
Slowly vanishing from the horizon...
©All Rights Reserved-2011
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Have The Answer..
If you are sincere
Ask for me
And I will come
And stay beside you
Forever...
I need to know
That you want my love now
Tonight!
As I do yours...
I cannot resolve
Reticence
Without your word
Because it is too
A great risk...
To offer oneself
Without hope
Of an answer....
Yet, my love, the fact remains
! I love you!
It will not change...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pen Battle
It started with a thought
A pen and a blank page
Slowly the ink flowed
And released my hidden rage
For here on these pages
My mind is free to speak
Here there is no fear
My words strong, not weak
My pen strikes a blow
On all that is evil and wrong
Stabs at humanity
While they squeal and scream their song
Here I wage my pen battle
I’m the master of my war
Here I fight intolerance
Racism, abuse and more
And when the ink has dried
The dead and wounded lie at my feet
The war finally won
By my thought, my pen, and a single blank sheet
poem by James Waters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What A Man Becomes
When a man falls in love he becomes a lover
Above his woman he puts no other
And when he closes his eyes, she will materialize
And never does he want to be with another.
He thinks about his love every day and night
As he wants to always keep her in his heart and sight
And when he is alone, To the world it is known
That she is his life and also his light.
When a man is cheated on he becomes a cynic
His love and their life he will then mock and mimic
In his heart there buns a hate, which he cant forsake
As his soul and mind seems as though to forever ache
She stays in his thoughts every night and day
He wonders what she did to turn herself that way
Then when he's with his friends, they too confirm her sins
And for him and not her they will sit and talk and pray.
When a man is cheated on by his wife he becomes a poet
Then of their life and relationship to all he will show it
He will write down in rhyme, of her dirty sinful crime
So of her sin no man or woman will ever forget it.
He still thinks about what she did all the time
As against him and God he knows she committed the crime
And now all he wants is peace, and the pain to cease
So he becomes a poet and his pain he writes in rhyme.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lover
When a man falls in love he becomes a lover
Above his woman he puts no other
And when he closes his eyes, she will materialize
And never does he want to be with another.
He thinks about his love every day and night
As he wants to always keep her in his heart and sight
And when he is alone, To the world it is known
That she is his life and also his light.
When a man is cheated on he becomes a cynic
His love and their life he will then mock and mimic
In his heart there buns a hate, which he cant forsake
As his soul and mind seems as though to forever ache.
She stays in his thoughts every night and day
He wonders what she did to turn herself that way
Then when he's with his friends, they too confirm her sins
And for him and not her they will sit and talk and pray.
When a man is cheated on by his wife he becomes a poet
Then of their life and relationship to all he will show it
He will write down in rhyme, of her dirty sinful crime
So of her sin no man or woman will ever forget it.
He still thinks about what she did all the time
As against him and God he knows she committed the crime
And now all he wants is peace, and the pain to cease
So he becomes a poet and his pain he writes in rhyme.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Answered Prayer
Every problem has solutions
Look inside your heart, see what you might find
You can draw your own conclusions
Theres summer in your soul, winter in your mind
I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
I love, I love, I love you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Unhappy for a long time
A subtle shade of blue, indigo, thats you
You say that loves so hard to find
It just eluded you, Ive been eluded, too
I love, I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
Ive got to, got to, got to have you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Open up your mind, open up your heart
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Open up your arms, open up your eyes
Answer my prayer
Truth be told, word to the wise
Open your heart, babe, open your eyes
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Answer my prayer, answer my prayer
Answer my prayer
Prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
All I want you to do, all I want to do
Is to answer my prayer, answer baby
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry
Now give me answer, give me an answer, give me an answer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Does Not Have to Rhyme
There are those who think in order for a poem to have rhythm it must rhyme, but a poem does not have to rhyme to have rhythm.
The rhythm comes for the poet’s soul not the rhyming of words.
The rhythm is in emotions that the poet’s poem evokes.
From a soulful cry to feeling of love and from the passion of hate to the awakening of understanding this is the beat, the rhythm of a poem. Now don’t get me wrong if a poem rhyme and has soul it is cool too, but I just wanted everyone to know that a poem does not have to rhyme.
Whithin Another Man's Shadow
Is not the same
To be in the Shadow,
Than to be the Shadow itself…
For you can move away from the Shadow
Towards the light
But, the shadows could not do
The same,
For it no longer will be the shadow…
Now it is painful and hard for me
To convince myself
That it is NOT what I thought
It could be…
Worse than anything else,
Is to share another man's shadow..
Why should I pay for another man's sins?
It wouldn't be right
And I don't deserve it..
Now I realize,
That everything was just a game
With the shadow and the light
And I caught in between…
Now, obviously, one path remains
For me to take:
The light anytime,
Then,
Definitely I will be
A free Man…
However, wondering
who my shadow
One day may be?
Since you are
Already somebody's else...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Art
Life Art
I want to write you a poem.
One that contains no verses
no words
how long it will be
I cannot tell.
It will be a poem that you can see through
yet it will shade you from the sun
a simple lyric
as complex as a crossword
I want it to be something
that you carry through your day
every day
I don’t know if I can write that poem
Or if indeed that poem can be written at all
So instead I am with you
Of you
And slowly together
we are writing our very own poem
Not on a page
Or in a lost notebook
But in the café
and in the street
At a table
In our bed
Every day we add another line
another image
another verse
and I know that with every word that we write
I want it to be the longest poem
That has ever been written.
poem by Andy Houlihan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of human bondage
When my love and I mutually swear that we both are made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she is fickle; full of frauds and dry lies,
Making me wondering if she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the ways of the vast world's false cunning subtleties.
Thus lying to each other, I cannot tell if she thinks me young,
Although in her mind she knows my days are past their best,
Being an occasional adulterous myself, I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides hypocrisy thrives and thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore I can never say or guess when and if she is unjust?
Consuming fresh young flesh wherefore say not I that I am old?
The thrusting thought that love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I do bed her, and she does bed me,
And in our faults by lies and by false evasive excuses we flattered be.
Beware when being seduced by sweet fresh younger nymph's kind
Love becomes a monster that plays havoc with your mind
Copy Rights 2010
All rights reserved
Word is an Actor to the Poem
Word is an actor to the poem
Play small part in the end of some row
Or get the centre of attention
Written in title and crucial point
Or just a bridge between other characters
Word is an actor to the poem
Cast and found to create whole story
Have a role building imagination
Changed by mood or deep thought
Dancing in the mind of every poet
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mind Is An Oyster
The heart, can only be as open as the mind.
The mind, the creator of my world.
Not the world, but my world.
The mind, building walls.
Walls of fear, resentment and bitterness.
The spirit is trapped.
Bouncing from heart to mind.
Like a ping pong ball.
For it is my mind that is closed.
I listened to the teachings of other closed minded teachers.
They speak of a peace, they do not have.
The preach of a love, that they still seek.
The world is my oyster.
My mind is an oyster.
To find the pearl, the shell must first open up.
It is once the mind opens, I can connect to the source.
The source that tells me I am the true treasure.
I see so many closed shells.
For their pearl is as brilliant as mine.
But through the closed shell it cannot be seen.
They do not know they are just as rich as I.
So they try to take mine, because their shell is too difficult to open.
My shell is open.
I do not want your treasure for myself,
I have my own.
I am content.
I want your shell to open,
I want you and the world to see the brilliance of yours.
For it is when the mind opens,
Your true life will begin.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Age Old Feelings
For this woman, his heart doth treasure
And in his soul, he will always treasure
In her heart, naught these feelings lay
But like a game, with him she'll play
Broken hearted, he cries heavy tears
Such tears had not been shed
For so long a time as to be forgot
Such a time he had such a thought
That a sacred love he would never find
And to said love, he would become blind
A fair young maiden in her tower sits
Between her heart and mind, she is split
Her mind demands she do what she must
Her heart to her mind may never trust
For her heart is where true love lies
Yet in her mind, that same love dies
How can love live and die at the same time?
It seems that thought would be known as crime
To her, True lover seems so far away
But in truth, that love will come one day
They met by chance, it seemed too late
But in his heart, it seemed like fate
She was so scared as was he
More in love, they could not be
But because the fear was combined with love
It did not seem it could last for long
They felt the joy but also the fear
He tried to help, she tried to hear
But she was too afraid to heed
So what he did was show her whats real
Not the things of want but that she was his only desire
Cant Go On
(coverdale/vandenberg)
Ive been feeling sentimental,
In a melancholy way,
Blues siting on my shoulder,
Getting heavier every day...
Staring into space,
One thing on my mind,
Ive been trying to drown
The thought of you
By drinking too much wine...
Then my imagination
Starts running wild,
I snap my fingers
And youre there by my side...
Cant go on without your love,
Theres no song without your love...
Aint no reason, aint no rhyme,
Without your love
Ill go out of my mind...
Been getting too lazy,
Letting myself go,
Feeling like a refugee
No one cares for anymore...
Endless lonely days,
I just try to get through,
And theres no escape,
Even when I sleep,
cause all I dream is you...
Then my imagination
Gets the better of me,
cause youre everywhere I go,
In everything I see...
I cant go on without you love,
Theres no song without your love...
There aint no reason, there aint no rhyme,
Without your love
Ill go out of my mind...
You make me dance,
You make me sing,
When Im with you
I can do anything...
When Im cold,
You keep me warm.
And give me shelter
From the howling storm...
There aint no reason, there aint no rhyme,
Without your love
Ill go out of my mind...
Cant go on without your love,
Theres no song without your love...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mind Is Not A Complex Poem
MY MIND IS NOT A COMPLEX POEM
My mind is not a complex poem
That makes a metaphor of rhyme-
Or understands the simple beat,
Of an imperfect right offline.
My mind is old and wandering
And trusts itself to carry on.
The poem it comes to turns to stone
And weighs upon a soul unsung.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moderns
To many reading modern poetry more interesting the meaning in the metaphors they seek to find
They feel it makes their brains work that much harder that it is good exercise for the mind
Rhyme for their great brains seems that bit too simple it does not test their thinking power at all
'Tis not a poem to them if it seems simple and the meaning in it easy to recall,
Yes rhyme for them it does seem that bit simple and deciphering it to them is not a test
The hidden meaning in the metaphors is something that does seem to try them best
Rhyme poetry to them is too simple and far too easy for to understand
It has to be blank verse with dozens of metaphors for their interest for to command
They look on rhyme and bush poets as inferior their preference in poets and poetry they make known
On literature they air their opinions like it is said to each their own
Their poetry evenings do seem quite exclusive rhyme poets to read they never do invite
Their unmusical lines that are laced with metaphors to each other they do recite
They do not like rhyme or they do not like bush poetry to them it is of another time
And in their poetry evenings there is no place for the men and the women of rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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