Quagmire
Mind rumpus; thoughts viscous; words pause
Vicious vagueness vituperates
Poesy prowls; never in poise!
Demurs to egress with prowess
Ticklish process it is, to pick
One thick globule of slick morass
That abounds our social precincts
It’s like opt’ng the best of the worst
Then ensues my usual address
Showcasing to the world, this slush
What a curse it’s to our progress
In abstruse poetic phrases
Read they, some with seriousness
Some with a snigger, unimpressed
All to forget in few minutes
Thus my dénouement rests and rusts.
Before I come to my senses
Slips back the dirt into its source
With a last laugh at my amiss
With stolid stares, I remain stoic
This story doesn’t end here, friends
Again I stick my seeking hands
Into the surrounding quagmire
This time for fistfuls, with vengeance
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Every Time You Throw Dirt On Her (You Lose A Little Ground)
I guess you think it's fun
To laugh at her expense
And point out each mistake she makes
In front of all your friends
You figure she'll let it go by
'Cause she loves you so
But, you know.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
--- Instrumental ---
It's hard to bite my lip
But, I ain't saying a word
I give you all the rope to hang yourself
That you deserve
You might be ahead of me in her heart, today
But, that's okay.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Knuckles
Smack dab flat on my back
The solid ground began to crack
I pulled her down and down and down
I lost my breath
I thought I'd drown
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Her leg, my hand, a smoldering brand
Sticking to her wet body like sand
Her place, distaste, we fell from grace
Red smears across her face
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
White knuckles!
White knuckles!
White knuckles!
White knuckles
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Geraldine's Bus Ride to Work
Geraldine rides the bus to work.
She sways side to side with the
motion of the bus, sitting in the
compact human zoo, faces, limbs,
bodies, eyes, mouths. The sky
outside is an early morning icy blue.
A man opposite stares, his eyes
moving over her, his hands in his
lap, fingers playing with each other.
His eyes settle on her legs, drink
them in. She feels as if he were
undressing her, taking each item of
clothing off one by one. His eyes
are dark, deep set. She stares back
at him, takes in his lips, parted, thick
and saliva sits there. Her thoughts
move to Holly and the night before,
the game they played, the role plays,
the pre-sex drama. The man shifts
in his seat, wrinkles his nose, moves
his eyes to her breasts. She looks away,
senses his eyes fondling her tits, his
imaginary fingers groping. Holly would
have said something to the creep opposite,
would have shown him up, but she
doesn't have that way with her, she sits
it out, pushing thoughts of him away,
focuses on Holly's tongue licking the
inside of her thighs, sensation electrifying.
The man looks away, no doubt to masturbate
in his dark mind with his imaginary fingers.
Geraldine lets the thoughts of Holly and
her deeds linger, sucks in the hotness,
the scents, the sighs, the smells. She stares
at the man. He looks at his hands, his fingernails.
There is dirt beneath the nails, black as soot
as if he'd rooted in dark soil. She looks away;
Holly has set her (with her deeds) to sexual boil.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Poets?
When a poem is read
A reader's home is entered
Where dwells a kindred spirit
You laugh…you cry
You groan and you sigh
You feel and taste and hear it
We bring tears to eyes
Smiles to lips…
Memories to mind
We make you think
With pen and ink
And open minds once blind
That music is a source of joy
Of that, of course there is
No doubt
But words and phrases
Ink on pages, of that
We'd ne'er do without
It's a gift given to very few
In truth, this game
of words and phrases
Of measurable worth?
Of real value none?
Of real time and of real places?
So why the need for you and me?
What place have we…Poets,
In grand schemes, of things and matters?
…It's because….
We give wings to words
That soar like birds
And oftimes leave your heart
…in tatters…
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I work with my words as medium
I want to be profound
Deep, deeper than what i
Can possible swim
But I have seen
The limitations
Of words as medium
Of my thoughts
How can I put the
Color red
Of an apple
In words
Or the scent
Of lavender
In syllables
Here you are
Reading me
And I do not want
To disappoint
You, my reader
I want to create
A world of sensations
For such is the
World of poetry
I have long wanted
You to feel
My sadness in
Letters
My loneliness
In a single
Letter
This
i
Or...... ............................... me...................................
I want you to listen
To me
In the hush of the wind
In syllables
I want you to
Read my joys
In my phrases
Sometimes
I have given
You sentences
stanzas
I want you to
Be at home
With my words
But these are
Just words
And I must
Have failed
In bringing
Back to life
Your senses
Hopelessly
They have long
been dead
words, words, words,
And
Even this whole
Poem
Is not enough
Let me try
Again
On some
Coming
Illustrations
Birds falling
Their wings clipped
Leaves blown
Detached from
Their stems
Trees threatened
About the news
Of the coming storms
Oh I am so sorry
Your senses are sleeping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carry On
Words they echo in my mind
Feelings that slow down the time
I don't know if I'm forwards or behind
Eyes are staring out at me
And people all surrounding me
All the hands upon me - now I'm lost
I only wish that you were here
with you fear seems to disappear
If only I could take back how I feel
I only wanna be ok
But I don't know another way
Destroys the thing that means the most to me
It seems familiar
I've been here before
yeah it's all i need to read my thoughts now
Carry on
song performed by by Goldfinger from Stomping Ground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
If youre havin trouble with your high school head
Hes givin you the blues
You wanna graduate but not in is bed [...but not in his debt]
Heres what you gotta do -
Pick up the phone
Im always home
Call me any time
Just ring
36 24 36 hey [36 24 36 8]
I lead a life of crime
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
You got problems in your life of love
You got a broken heart
(shes) hes double dealin with your best friend
Thats when the teardrops start - fella
Pick up the phone
Im here alone
Or make a social call
Come right in
Forget about him
Well have ourselves a ball
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
If you got a lady and you want her gone
But you aint got the guts
She keeps naggin at you night and day
Enough to drive you nuts -
Pick up the phone
Leave her alone
Its time you made a stand
For a fee
Im happy to be
Your back door man
Dirty deeds done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds and theyre done dirt cheap
Concrete shoes, cyanide, tnt
Done dirt cheap
Neckties, contracts, high voltage
Done dirt cheap
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Luve Rusts
Here I am now, somewhere on the highway
I just checked into some low-lit room
I call my service back in San Francisco
Tell my landlord, I'll be home by June
But what about me, boy, back in California
What about the blue-eyed girl, you're but a child
You held me for ransom, like some beautiful bandit
Going down for the third time, drowning in your life
Love rusts when it rains on romance
Thunder rolls in on a clear blue day
We used to shine like the eye of a diamond
But something happened, the weather changed
I should have known better
you read just like a roadmap
Staying in one place
doesn't interest you at all
Maybe I don't move
as fast as I used to
But youth is something
we can't hold on to long
Love rusts when it rains on romance
Hailstones heavy on this empty heart
It crowds the window where I used to watch you
Down by the shoreline in the dark
Love rusts when it rains on romance
Thunder rolls in on a clear day
We used to shine like the eye of a diamond
But something happened and the weather changed
Something happened and the weather changed
Something happened
Then the weather changed
Ooh, I tell you we used to shine
(We used to shine,oh,how love rusts)
(We used to shine,oh,how love rusts)
Ooh,we used to shine
Ooh, we used to shine
you know
(We used to shine,oh, how love rusts)
(We used to shine,oh, how love rusts)
(We used to shine,oh, how love rusts)
(We used to shine,oh, how love rusts)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Woman Who Loves Poesy
She has a twenty years old daughter but she leads a single life
And she knows what it feels like to be a mother but not to be a wife
Her great love is Goddess Poesy only poesy she admire
And her creative source it comes from poesy and poesy in her verse inspire.
She writes such beautiful poetry as a poet she is well known
And as a genuine wordsmith her reputation it has grown
The woman who loves poesy is good at what she do
At least one can say of her to her own self she is true.
Since writing poetry can be a hungry belly game the well informed say
She works as a bar maid in the Golf Club Rooms for to earn her hard earned pay
But all of her spare time devoted to poesy since poetry she loves to write
Her poems on many different subjects are a source of delight
To poetry lovers who read her verses and many of her say
That from penning verse she will grow wealthy and become quite well known one day
But she does not write for fame or money she only writes because she
Happens for to be a person devoted to Goddess Poesy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At A Loss For Words
Some time had passed since a verse had come to mind
a mental blockage I have had, nothing seemed to rhyme.
No words of creation the supply had gone
no thoughts, or imagination, nothing, not a one.
The source had stopped for some strange reason,
as though there was a break in the poetry season.
I tried and I tried, but nothing would come together,
not even with a change in the weather.
In the early hours I woke up and had to pick up a pen,
for some strange reason I began writing again.
It is quite odd and I’ll never get to know
why periods of poetry come and go.
But I’m thankful when words and lines come to me
it is as though they are sent telepathically.
It doesn’t matter if the poem is incorrect or good
or if it’s taken as silly, or is misunderstood.
As long as it relays that moment’s thought
an instinctive message that cannot be taught.
To me it doesn’t matter if its only two lines long,
or whether it has many verses, or even sounds wrong.
When thoughts of words or sentences come to mind
I have to write them down no matter the place or time.
If I don’t record the thought on paper right away
they become lost forever in the space of night and day.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Infuse Life To Fly
The poet can take particle to the sky
And may infuse life in death to fly
Vicious verse will declare him a sly.
As long as there is glow in the sun
Poetry will keep the lives full of fun
Lovers of poetry exclaim “Well done! ”
Mind your words are lovely dark and deep
Welfare of the human beings do keep
Lofty thoughts of no use if sigh and weep
Mind over words as mirror of your thought
Vision, mission or poison have wrought
Let your readers never feel thoughts were bought
Vice or virtue boldly mark your verse
Metaphor or similes utter in terse
Grand style with cynicism is source of curse
Let not take the help of sacred poetry
To prove right injustice and bigotry
It is poet’s poetry to show gallantry
Who is in the world to protect poetry?
As we define it – is the voice of God
Time fears absence of essence calls it fraud.
Farce words, lewd thoughts seem shocking banality
Ribald passion eclipses its vitality
Need tempest to uproot urge of new gen with agility
Display your thoughts of a fragrant vase
That soothes the mind glare smile on the face
Such sorts of verve harbinger of grace.
poem by Shujaat Hussain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Once
`
Wake up
talk back
don't tell me
what I lack,
save up
turn back
bring along that
fav'rite song
don't tell me
I've no social
conscience
wasting my
poetic licence
turn back
to your real self
your hunger for
poetic justice
look up
the sky's
still higher
than your highest
tower
let down your
flaxen locks
your ivory walls
are too slick
come with me
where the air
is free
and maybe,
just maybe
for once we'll agree.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A dozen ton
It is twelve hundred long
Anything you term it for poem or songs
They are in verses and spread through years
It has helped me to ride over worst fears
The long competitions infused me with spirit
The little fuel in lamp kept it dimly lit
It gave no warmth but little heat
Sure path for achieving a memorable feat
The numbers are meant for simple memory
Sometimes they caused me amusement and worry
So many friends made me to feel bad and sorry
I still decided to go ahead and carry
The ideas and plots were pouring in mind
I wanted some medium or little place to find
Where I could convey paragraphs form of poetry
It was newest form from my side to portray
I loved to add rhythm with simple phrase
The idea was to make it remain and not to erase
It was starting phase and not easy
Though i remained quite amused and busy
It has given me long way for expedition
Strictly peaking it is without any condition
Open field for proving the caliber and ability
Nice way of putting thoughts with clear strategy
There is no point in looking the past
The time has moved slowly but very fast
The time may not wait for anyone and last
I may clear all doubts if they are really cast
I have yet to learn many things
It is flight in air without wings
I may come down with heavy blow
Still I got to go up and progress slow
It is never ending process
There is no pause or recess
You may have no ready made access
Still that dilemma remains and got to be faced
It is not easy but difficult too
We have to sail and pass through
It is as usual a routine exercise
The views have to be to the point and precise
I have no life time desire
Friends and readers must appreciate and admire
I shall remain not to witness it in future
They may remain as treasure for sure
The poems and poets are in separable part
No one can remain separate and depart
It is to be long union and strong bond
All fished take refuge in vast pond
I dip in water for fresh pearl stone
It may be slipped from hand and gone
Still a worth try for memorial drive
Life time experience to enjoy and live
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faded Pages
Recently I started retyping
a manuscript of short stories
I had written twenty years ago.
The pages were faded;
too much time being opened to the sun.
As I typed, I smiled
at the things I had written
and the dialogue I had created.
The stories are about a cat
and looking at the world
through his eyes and thoughts.
I had even created him a language
that I had to write a glossary
at the back of the book to explain
what some of the phrases meant.
There is a vast array of characters
and most have a funny turn.
I also remember what prompted me
to write the stories long ago.
My original intention was to write
one story and one story only,
but a friend of mine at the time
persuaded me to write another and another.
Before long, a volume was finished
with enough stories to start another.
From a one off story I have written over sixty now
about the cat and all his friends.
Now as I flick through these faded pages,
which I haven’t read in years,
I find myself being reunited
with many long lost friends.
26 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5,4,3,2,1? We've Got Your Number!
Pick up the phone, then dial your call...
They'll answer, yes, but then they'll stall!
Press 1 or 2 or 3 or 4,
Or 5 or 6 or even more...
Oh, lucky you, the music plays,
Yet seldom can it soothe delays!
'Our staff are busy! ' So are YOU!
For now, nobody's got a clue!
Ho, hum... Ho, hum... Ho, hum... Ho, hum...
So far, their 'service' sure seems dumb!
Ten minutes drag when you're enraged!
Alas, my friends, they've got you caged!
They've got you dangling on the line!
Success or failure? Still no sign!
This sort of thing is getting worse -
This can't be progress, it's a curse!
Timewasters, truly, that's a fact!
The worms have turned! It's time to ACT!
Complain! Complain! Again! Again!
Let's make THEM feel 'HOUR' sense of pain!
Don't let them 'off the hook', my friends -
Until, at last, this folly ends!
Let's make them 'pull the plug' and soon!
Let's make them lose each loony tune!
Forget the music, it's absurd!
WE WANT TO SPEAK AND TO BE HEARD!
Forget it's US who pay the cost
And all goodwill from US is lost!
WE'LL STAND AGAINST THEM, SIDE-BY-SIDE,
UNTIL FULL SERVICE IS SUPPLIED!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Story Of Opinions
A story so strange and disturbing that it writes itself
Surely these actions are not good for ones mental health
As dark as the day yet twisted in the hands of a pen
A story that has not yet fallen to the mind of men
A title that holds so much more honour than the object
The words that mark the page are nothing but a prospect
Of a decision or miscalculation that causes such deep regret
That neither king nor tyrant shall ever try to forget
Engraved on the face of the earth, buried in the heart
Burnt in the mind and sleeping in the soul, there is the start
Of a tale from so many different angles and opinions
Mourned by the victim or retold by the loyal minion
The ink that taints the page slowly swallows the truth
‘Unbiased' yet moulded to teach today's youth
The story clear as water yet disturbed by the waves
Propaganda gives the public the words they crave
So maybe it is true that one should read between the lines
Lessons have taught that words are twisted with the times
Whether for added affect, sympathy or to remain a mystery
That is the truth of my story, their story, her story, History.
poem by Rebecca Pepper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
If your havin' trouble with your high school head
He's givin' you the blues
You wanna graduate but not in 'is bed
Here's what you gotta do -
Pick up the phone
I'm here alone
Call me any time
36 24 36 (slaver)
I lead a life of crime
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
Your havin' problems in your life of love
You got a broken heart
He's double dealin' with your best friend
That's when the teardrops start -
Pick up the phone
I'm here alone
Or make a social call
Come right in
Forget about him
We'll have ourselves a ball
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
If you got a lady but you want her gone
But you ain't got the guts
She keeps naggin' you night and day
Enough to drive you nuts -
Pick up the phone
Leave her alone
It's time you made a stand
For a fee I'll be happy to be
Your back door man
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
Concrete shoes
song performed by by AC/DC from High Voltage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interrupted
Like a pause in pain
I ring the bell
of homecoming. I was ready
to meet the hurricane.
The alien neighbor of white fires.
After the rains
the slush will overwhelm the abducted
silence.
The celestial peace will
be shattered. Something will remain
unexplained, between the kisses of doors.
Go soflty into the dark
I know myself.
From your eyes the stained thoughts
will read the winter of leaves laden
with crisp snowflakes.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More Reality
look over the shade
look no more accolades
no more its about over
its about time to step out of the rover
we aint on the moon
this is no cartoon
this is real
the read deal
lets see if you take it
maybe someone has their own tree
and its not me
heh wow this hasnt happened yet
and yet it has and now my mind is wet
with thoughts of how
why and why i want some chow
i guess this work makes me hungry
for knowledge of those big questions
hmmm how fey
no reason to inveigh
ok this never happened forget it already.....
forget it forget it..... no dream no scream
reality that causes fatalitliy
go back to sleep and wake
up and see nothing but a lil shake
that stimulates ur senses shhhhhhh
dont move its not what you think forget it
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Pen Gone Dry
Barren fields…empty places
Mind devoid of idea and rhyme
Sterile imagination…featureless faces
Webs in memories, frozen in time
Fingers flaccid, mind unwilling
Heavy lies this heart of mine
Creative forces not fulfilling
Empty flask of poetic wine
Dried up source of poetic spring
Used up store of poetic phrases
Emptied purse with untied string
Like worn out shoes and old frayed laces
Time away… might grow the field
Time away… might fill the empty places
Perhaps time will let the emptiness yield
To imagination…and full featured faces
Now...inkwell empty
Tear in eye
Pristine paper
Pen... gone dry...
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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