On cloud nine! !
My soul has sung odes
Feet troden routes all snowed.
Some rhymes once encountered
Words misheard, and meaning altered.
Rare tales were between lines
Some scattered tragedies, few sporadic shines.
For indifferent; a paradox, that stays clandestine
For keen; a serendipity leaping to cloud nine.
poem by Samima Shah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You, Clouds and I
Self stood apart
It stood witness
To an unusual union
The clouds
Didn't really move
We did!
A sudden wave
Of shyness overwhelmed
I hid behind a cloud!
I didn't know
You're there much before
I reached!
Some chuckle heard
From somewhere seeing us
Caught by each other!
We played
Leaping from one cloud
To another
Hands clasped
Thousands of feet
Above the earth!
Leave us alone
Pleaded the two hearts
In unison...
Stranded amidst
Scattered mounds of clouds
We floated...
On 09Oct2011 at some thousands of feet above the earth!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sporadic Movement
vital signs are slow and steady
so attentive still not ready
as I was just about to say
you are the one that's over
I am sporadic movement
you are sporadic movement
hate is turning into hunger
just the guy to pull me under
I am sporadic movement
you are sporadic
I involve you
the energy dissolves you
a transformation
a chemical in the brain is so loud
decision making
song performed by by Cky from Infiltrate - Destroy - Rebuild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Serendipity a Happy Accident
SERENDIPITY A HAPPY ACCIDENT. Acrostic
Serendipity, a happy accident?
Every meeting made could just be the one.
Relationships forged and cast in steel forever.
In chance unexpected discoveries, heaven sent
Nomads wandering through deserts wastes
Discussions wrong, right and indifferent come to light
It's only once in a Blue moon, or so it seems
Perhaps only once in a life time may be the truth
It for sure aint every single day
That you have the chance of SERENDIPITY
Yes that Happy Accident of Chance to meet a Kindred Soul.
All through Life you search not knowing truly what you seek.
Happy accidents may never come to light without a deal of luck
A card you may be dealt, may turn a cold stone to a pot of gold.
Perchance a blind date lead you down an unfamiliar path
Perhaps your Star that day could align with Mars
Yes as I have said before “ Out of Life you get whatever you put in”
Accidents are bound to happen once or twice now and again
Chance your arm too much and you may over-reach
Careful make sure that you look before you leap
In fact at your age you'd better not leap at all.
Destiny by chance, well, is there any other way,
Ethereal Angels chanting in sweetest harmony
Now and again to join a sister to a brother
Through the ancient SERENDIPITY.
Written in the Now gifted to The 1000th Man with grateful thanks 28th August 2009
poem by Philip Winchester
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Versatile Verse - Polyacrostic Sonnet
Vanity within a verse scheme gave
Each alphomega, each word's aura, ease.
Run through in print, as content rhymes to please,
Springs, rising sprightly, links few see, most crave.
Apart here thread we tight, taut, autoclave,
Tacit, yes, yet pate-play may seem tease.
In lines smooth I express this hidden frieze, -
Lucid keepsake, light, keen, subtle stave.
Emphatic theme expect, - interpret rave!
Vain verse-vine vile? Voice very vivid? Seize
Externals terse are shade, sense secret keys.
Rare is this art, rare verses are, - rhyme save.
A sonnet's stress sometimes less shows than's hid, -
Here's an example baring message grid.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Logic Of Poetry Has a Color And Shape Of Its Own
THE LOGIC OF POETRY HAS A COLOR AND SHAPE OF ITS OWN
The logic of poetry has a color and shape of its own
Its clear silences ring deeply as paradox confounded into meaning
How many others have made Beauty of words
And still are sung of only by the Silence?
How these days go by longing to remain alive
Because life itself bears within it the best of these most poignant dying moments?
Our doom is certain and our final word never to be clearly heard
But we as we are can be in this world for our time with all its beauty as us-
There is no more wonder than this God gives-
We look out and up each day as a child may still look for its first light above-
No one knows where the darkness ends and even if it is darkness at all
We say the word ‘God’ and all we know and mean is that our greatest meaning must be beyond us – if it is to be at all
‘God’ we say ‘God’
And who are we and what are we
if not a part too of this Beauty somehow greater than we can ourselves ever really hold on to?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Upon the clothes behind the tenement, That hang like ghosts suspended from the lines, Linking each flat, but to each indifferent, Incongruous and strange the moonlight shines.
quote by Claude McKay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cloud Of Meaning Over My Head
There is always a cloud of meaning over my head, I know
But I always look down on the ground
Never look up in the sky as my head is stuck with heat of life under my feet running into the shoes of tomorrow
I don't know how I can construct meaning out of dust in the heat
But I know meaning is over my head staring down at me
Absurdity is not meaning but life itself is meaning
Those Words
What made you think about that, don’t ruin your life
You need to focus on the things always changing
Always moving
Banished to the back of my mind,
Best philosophy I’ve heard in my life
Those words are part
Of a book I’ve never read
A song I’ve never sung
A dream I’ve never dreamed
Part of a cloud I’ve never been to
Sailin’ on cloud nine
And I wish, I wish it was mine
There’s a girl
Miss Original Girl
She turns gray into silver
I don’t know why you can hate her
She doesn’t realize what it must be like to be me
Take her away from the best things that I am dreaming
About
But I guess those words are part
Of a book I’ve never read
A song I’ve never sung
A dream I’ve never dreamed
Part of that cloud I’ve never been to
Sailin’ on cloud nine
And I wish, I wish it was mine
I wish it was forever mine
The best day on my lips tastes like candy
When you taste it it’s a whole different story
People don’t live like this, they
Don’t all sound the same
No one’s ever worried about my hiding, where I might be
And I’m wishing
Still wishing
Still dreaming but
I have hoped, I have failed
I have dreamed, I have fallen
I have wished, I have retreated
I have tried, I have collided
I have done it, I have succeeded
But I still know through this fog
I know those words are part
Of a book I’ve never read
Never even looked at
A song I’ve never sung for you
A dream I’ve never dreamed
At least in this lifetime
Part of that same cloud I’ve never been to
Ever in my life
Now I’m sailin’ on cloud nine
And I think back to the time
When I wished, I wished, I dreamed that it was mine
And now it is forever mine
A Rondeau of College Rhymes
Our college rhymes,--how light they seem,
Like little ghosts of love's young dream
That led our boyish hearts away
From lectures and from books, to stray
By flowery mead and flowing stream!
There's nothing here, in form or theme,
Of thought sublime or art supreme:
We would not have the critic weigh
Our college rhymes.
Yet if, perchance, a slender beam
Of feeling's glow or fancy's gleam
Still lingers in the lines we lay
At Alma Mater's feet today,
The touch of Nature may redeem
Our college rhymes.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words
as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words
when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words
you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…
poem by Gert Strydom
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Your Closest Friends Are Dead
Look, fate is a finicky clamor.
Fate is a remote island,
Where nobody can reach
For the road to fate,
Is as jagged as the treachery
Of a thief as thick as blood.
-
Look, serendipity is dead.
It does not muse over your oceans,
It does not fly within your air spaces,
It does not burst in the eve of new year,
Serendipity calcified, serendipity is perverse,
It does not light up aglow in each verse,
Serendipity is your God, my God,
His God, Her God, that does not show itself.
(Sorry for the blasphemy.)
-
Look, the silence exists
Between the persnickety fate
And dead serendipity,
Silence, my only friend,
The cold hands of danger,
The pretense of forever,
As if bound by one fate alone,
That we never find one, only ourselves,
But then, the strongest men
Are the most alone,
Starved from the skin, hollowed bones
Silence, a scream as thin as ice,
Deafening, none would suffice.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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A Song Thats Sung..
A song that's sung
tells more than a story
a song that's sung
is sung from the heart
a song that's sung
is a story from the soul
a song that's sung
is the greatest love
a song that's sung
is a give from above
a song that's sung
is an emotion in a melody
a song that's sung
can be whatever you want it to be
a song that's sung
can have a million meanings
a song that's sung
is a diary of emotions...
poem by Emily Summers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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8-3-1
The way I want you babe
Its embarrassing
I cant control myself
Its just too much for me
I cant concentrate
I dont know what to say
Except your name baby
The sweetest name
And when we kiss that kiss
Thats when it hits
With my heart and soul I say this
8 letters, 3 words, one meaning
In my heart
8 letters, 3 words, one feeling
When it starts
When you say my name
I begin to shake
I break out in a sweat
This is the best it gets
Theres nothing second rate
About this feeling babe
Its forever come what may
Its what I hope and pray yeah
And when we kiss that kiss
Thats when it hits
With my heart and soul I say this baby
8 letters, 3 words, one meaning
In my heart
8 letters, 3 words, one feeling
When it starts
8 letters, 3 words, one meaning
In my heart
8 letters, 3 words, one feeling
When it starts
Its understanding and its understood
And baby it sure feels good
8 letters, 3 words, one meaning
In my heart
8 letters, 3 words, one feeling
When it starts
And when we kiss that kiss
Thats when it hits
With my heart and soul I say this baby
8 letters, 3 words, one meaning
In my heart
8 letters, 3 words, one feeling
When it starts
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet # 20
Thy velvet hair shines like the purest gold
Youe soft liquid eyes be a joy to see
Thy beauty is like a priceless portrait
You are the inspiration this poet would ever need
To write a thousand words upon a thousand lines
Flowing verse in a romantic theme
All dedicated to the thought of you
From a passion you brought to life in me
What dreams could be when one thinks of thee
Maybe? romance fill'd fairy tales
Where true love would always reign supreme
And a knight's love for thee would never fail
Though I have only seen thee but twice
Thy beauty twas enough to enflame my soul to write
poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unconnected Thought
Words wrapped around,
There is no meaning.
Voices lost to the ether,
The electric hum on the net.
No one sees or hears.
Voices drown in the clamour
Of the me firsts, the I's, the me's.
In this democracy of self
No one listens, takes time.
Words need welding,
To be fashioned honed
So that their meaning shines.
Not the endless repetitious babble
Of the unconnected thought.
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Meaning Of A Poem
THE MEANING OF A POEM
The meaning of a poem
Is written within the lines
And between them.
It is outside and around,
Under and above
Where the simple sense is.
The meaning of a poem surrounds and embeds it,
And forces it to twist and turn within and without itself,
In more directions than it itself knows.
The meaning of a poem burns-
And aches to show
Where the wound is.
Oh scars of words and simple singing melodies of light
Where is your balm of thunder and dawn, now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Words
Someone and someone were down by the pond
Looking for something to plant in the lawn.
Out in the fields they were turning the soil
Im sitting here hoping this water will boil
When I look through the windows and out on the road
Theyre bringing me presents and saying hello.
Singing words, words between the lines of age.
Words, words between the lines of age.
If I was a junkman selling you cars,
Washing your windows and shining your stars,
Thinking your mind was my own in a dream
What would you wonder and how would it seem?
Living in castles a bit at a time
The king started laughing and talking in rhyme.
Singing words, words between the lines of age.
Words, words between the lines of age.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's Season
Nay, never ask, beloved, oh, why so late?
Nor marvel I could see yet love thee not,
Love's secrets lie within the book of fate,
Uncyphered and untaught.
The self-same star shines in its lofty sphere,
The poet sees and sees a hundred times,
Before from silvery cloud emerging clear,
'Tis wooed in deathless rhymes.
The self-same melody, unseized, ignored,
May float for years in the composer's brain,
One day he careless strikes his harp's chord,
To find a godlike strain.
And countless suns rise o'er the summer sea,
Before that rosy glow the painter caught,
Transferred to canvas, for all time to be
The fadeless dawn of thought.
So soul by soul for years may dwell alone,
Yet side by side; no mortal tongue can tell
How word or smile or look doth make them one.
Therein love's miracle.
poem by Matilda Betham-Edwards from Good Words
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Winter
Hold your hands to the blaze;
Winter is here
With the short cold days,
Bleak, keen and drear.
Was there ever a day
With hawthorn along the way
Where you wandered in mild mid-May
With your dear?
That was when you were young
And the world was gold;
Now all the songs are sung,
The tales all told.
You shiver now by the fire
Where the last red sparks expire;
Dead are delight and desire:
You are old.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Growth of Free Verse from the Metrical Verse.
When you think and feel
in terms of iambs or trochees
and sing them in series within,
you feel the pulse of a regular
rising or falling rhythm.
The recurring feet or beats make the lines
monotonous or surfeiting;
may be dull and flat at times..
The increasing anapaests
Makes the movement fast
But dactyls keep the tempo slow.
The epics and long tales of the past
with thrilling and grilling events
recharged our minds to linger long
in tasting of those sonorous lines.
You pen the shoddy lines
of words and phrases you think,
with a natural mix of humour and rhetorics
images and word-music
in long end-stopped or short enjambed ones.
Free verse lines of syncopation
blossom out of syncronised patterns
to sing the beauties of the mundane
and supreme things.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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