The Tedium
Perplexing kind of a quandary
with no lucidity in its substance
The nucleus a tad flustered
with inspiration seeming askance
On face all may look cheery
but aft is a deceptive pretense
The heart wants far to wander,
to head it makes no sense
Pondered at many a juncture
if it were some sort of a curse
This award of copious sensitivity
which I am not able to inverse
With realism mostly daunting and
make believe appearing secure
I often delve into realm of unknown
and yield to inexplicable allure
poem by Sunny Chopra
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Related quotes
Around in Circles
Logic needs dumping
while walking away from environs secure
The known at times is daunting
and unknown proffers the cure
The heart were always listened to,
let head for once take a call
To go with along that amuses,
than what pretentiously does appall
Questions aplenty with resolves a few,
is a one off many a stance
Crack I must each query
to seek the way out of the circumstance
poem by Sunny Chopra
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You
You are the one who makes me happy
When everything else turns to grey
Yours is the voice that wakes me mornings
And sends me out into the day
You are the crowd that sits quiet
Listening to me
And all the mad sense that I make
(*) you are one of the few things worth remembering
And since its all true
How could anyone mean more to me
Than you
Sorry if sometimes I look past you
Theres no one beyond your eyes
Inside my head whells are turning
Hey, sometimes Im not so wise
You are my heart and my soul
My inspiration
Just like the old love song goes
Repeat (*)
Youre my heart and my soul
My inspiration
Just like the old song goes
Repeat (*)
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deceptive Vanity
I am sure nothing that they did,
Could be said was done in vain.
Although,
It can be said...
The deceptive vanity of others,
Who placed them in that position...
With interests unknown,
Are the ones to direct your venom.
If their ever changing masquerades,
Could identify their greed...
As having a lack of sensitivity.
And that's going to be very difficult to prove.
Since greed is what has been valued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Generous and kind
The world is same and as it was before
We got to learn from it therefore
Nature is so kind on us
We must have full faith and trust
Why we must lag behind when everyone does?
Why are they so generous and kind on us?
If we catch the sense properly
We can always lead the life very happily
Be generous and give it with lion’s heart
To be donor is lucky sign and very good art
Not all can show the kindness from within
The immense joy makes it worth to live in
How the tree stands tall with all its preserve?
Is it meant to hide from all those who deserve?
The shade is there to give comforts to passers by
The fruits can be had if one sincerely makes effort or tries
So donate generously and earn the fame
If you have enough to give then don’t feel shame
You may be rewarded suitably in due course
At least something untoward may not happen with unknown curse
Believe in what you have and what you can
Make your wishes known and proudly stand
It will afford you an opportunity to serve in earnest
This can be considered as good moment or very best
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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You know, sometimes I get moments of inspiration when I'm writing something and then the task seems so daunting that it just kind of scares me away.
quote by Adam Pascal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helderberg Hill (Sestina)
You are the high hill with numerous peaks,
that in summer looks magnificent and cheery,
where I have climbed up to waterfalls, to heights,
where I got a view of sun, beach and sea,
felt as if in presence of God, with tranquillity
with your moods you remind me of a lady.
Once I wandered with a young lady
on a twisting trail among your high peaks
to find some inner peace, some tranquillity
and she was quite happy and rather cheery
gazing up at the blue sky, down at the sea
from both of those dazing heights.
Climbing up to the sheer heights
was like exploring the body of a lady
as if finding a secret kind of sea
with beautiful rising pointed peaks
and the experience was quite cheery,
suddenly leaving an own tranquillity.
My privacy is invaded by her tranquillity
as from far I still do watch her heights
and although feeling rather cheery
there is danger in this lovely lady
that beacons me with her high peaks
to look upon an endless open sea.
I long to gaze out upon the sea,
to be with her in tranquillity,
to wander among her peaks,
to again explore her heights
as if to visit a dear kind old lady
but I wonder if I will find her cheery?
But I must now continually stay cheery,
keep far away from the troubled sea,
avoid all of the dangerous heights
of live to be able to find tranquillity
but still the beautiful ageless lady
is luring me continually with her peaks.
How glimmering and cheery with ice her peaks
high above the sea, do glow from their heights,
she is without tranquillity, a chilly frozen lady.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Alice In Wonderland
Forever falling, calling up
An unfamiliar hole,
All alone she ponders
What futures will bestow
Only lonely thoughts
To provide any hope
And so,
Her ride does end
And Alice crawls into wonderland
Every face is a friend
As she entertains and pretends
When she weeps
For a change
That face will
Turn away
Unbiased
Alone and scared in
A daunting forest
Her face drips wet,
But she's not alone
They crowd around
And guide her way
On the race to realism
poem by April Swan
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Angels With Dirty Faces
I need this to get me through
can't resist and don't want to
believe it I know it's true
I can't beat and don't want to try
perfect hell
it's more to me than you ever will know
down here where the rest of us fell
waste away with nothing left to show
while I'm in this perfect hell
obsession has begun
possessed by destruction
how did I get so low
believe me no one knows
sometimes I can't hold on
and no one can help me
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
I'm walking pollution who's drained by delusions
on the verge of destruction I cave in to abduction
thin blood I'm bleeding my pulse won't stop racing
just as my heart explodes
no chance that I could win
too hard to not give in
I just don't feel the same
cause I'm the one to blame
sometimes I can't hold on
and no one can help me
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
I need this to be myself
it feels like I need some help
it's too late to save myself
or it's just in my head
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment. This kind of photography is realism. But realism is not enough - there has to be vision, and the two together can make a good photograph.
quote by Robert Frank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Defiance
The bull had come from sturdy stock,
standing defiant in his field.
His eyes they stared as if to mock,
the answer was to be revealed.
From being just a tiny dot,
he was now thundering at speed,
Then I was face to face and not
at all sure how he would proceed.
Perhaps he would just toss me high,
and throw me up into the air.
He plainly meant to terrify,
his nostrils had begun to flare.
I faced him staring eye to eye,
but he just snorted, turned his head.
And as his horns just passed me by,
he calmly sauntered back instead.
With such relief, my heart was stilled,
I felt my life had just been spared.
Not one dropp of my blood was spilled,
but in those moments, I was scared.
Of them, one can be sceptical,
one juncture quiet, then in a rage.
They are a daunting animal,
no bovine to try and upstage.
The bull had come from sturdy stock,
I quite admired him for his brawn.
But when they start to run amok,
you just don’t want to be the pawn.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Time And Its Daughter
Time and its Daughter
I love your face and your face loves itself
For its perfect nose, green eyes and rosy lips
And your fragrance has a Narcissistic allure.
The way you walk pavements adore you
rain shies away as not to make your hair wet
I love your face and your face loves itself.
When you cross the street car horn blears
All by themselves and white cars turn pink
And your fragrance has a Narcissistic allure
Sun doesn´t burn your skin, makes it golden.
Till, one day, the mirror tells of a wrinkle, and
you know years are ganging up on you.
You only enemy is time it waits in the wings.
As furrows settle on your forehead.
I love you face, your face doesn´t love itself
Car horn doesn´t blare anymore, get off
The road you lazy old woman, they honker
Your fragrance of youth has lost its allure
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Papulation Control- A Cinquian Form
Rubber
substance with some substance
no thorough fare for liquids
clean slate makes some sense
eraser
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Making sense
No sense in it if you act non-sense
People may push you away with sense
You may think why people are utterly non-sense?
When you are perfectly ok and act wit sense
You may fail in your love attempts
Some thing may force you or to act prompt
Still you act with sense and avoid
You may face difficulties which are self maid
You may act wise with change of scene
Gentleman like approach when publicly seen
Is it not the humanly act minus sin?
When one tries to project what he has been?
What comes to your help or rescue?
You may be wondering without any clue
You may blink and face may turn blue
When projection makes no sense for you
Sense is third eye for human being
Timely act may make him king
Opponent may face defeat in the ring
You may survive……………..
What, if nothing suggests or paves the way?
Your voice may not be heard or have the say
You may stick to position and bat for long
Still it makes sense that you are not always wrong
You will know what lies ahead?
Common sense may stop you to be mislead
So even if you are worried or so tense
You may act wise and come out with sense
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Uplift
On one whole bottle "uplifting!"
There is no telling what I'll do
Run head first into traffic
A mindset of annihilation
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
Your head now
Uplift - uplifting
Uplifting now
On hallucinogenic "uplift"
I can step out of my body
Religion is in myself
I'll split my head in two and see you twice
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
your head now
Uplift... uplifting
Uplifting now...
Uplifting you now...
Give me alcohol extremeties
Instead of proofless christianity
Drunked up in a coma place
Critics disgusted
song performed by by Pantera from Reinventing The Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm opposed to censorship of any kind, especially by government. But it's plain common sense that producers should target their product with some kind of sensitivity.
Shields were generally made of wood, covered with leather, or some similar substance. To secure them, in some sort, from being cut through by the sword, they were surrounded with a hoop of metal.
quote by Thomas Bulfinch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such Inspiration
Inspiration is so.
The light that makes me glow.
So charming it does flow,
To my feeling such a blow.
Inspiration does grow
From my very heart below.
Warm fire, my heart does stow.
From my heart, fire does crow.
Inspiration does slow
Me to rise up from woe
To brightness that does show,
Brightness that I cling to.
Inspiration does go
To wonders in a row
That enchants me to throw
Out great joy that shows though.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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Her love is my inspiration
Her love is my inspiration
Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,
For she is the inspiration for my Love.
Nathaniel Cole Buddington
poem by Nathan Buddington
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To A Child
The greatest poem ever known
Is one all poets have outgrown:
The poetry, innate, untold,
Of being only four years old.
Still young enough to be a part
Of Nature's great impulsive heart,
Born comrade of bird, beast, and tree
And unselfconscious as the bee-
And yet with lovely reason skilled
Each day new paradise to build;
Elate explorer of each sense,
Without dismay, without pretense!
In your unstained transparent eyes
There is no conscience, no surprise:
Life's queer conundrums you accept,
Your strange divinity still kept.
Being, that now absorbs you, all
Harmonious, unit, integral,
Will shred into perplexing bits,-
Oh, contradictions of the wits!
And Life, that sets all things in rhyme,
may make you poet, too, in time-
But there were days, O tender elf,
When you were Poetry itself!
poem by Christopher Morley
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The Curse
What if for you, I could place a curse
Upon your enemy to make his life worse
To have him suffer both in pain and woe
Wouldn't you be happy, if I would do so,
If you like it, I could cause him to lose his hair
Or I could have him believe GOD is not there
I could rip out his tongue so he could never speak
Then asking for help, he could never seek,
Wouldn't you be happy if I would curse your foe
Just nod your head and I will strike the blow
I will cause him suffering and I will give him pain
He will lose all that he has and he will go insane,
I could close his ears so he could not hear
So he couldn't hear the joy, but see only the tear
If you ask me I could even curse his arm
And the one that he had left he could do no harm,
I could even curse him to lose his leg
Wouldn't you be happy to see him crawl and beg
I could even blind him so he will not see again
Then I could make him angry and cause him to sin,
Just tell me what type of curse you'd like it to be
And happily I will place it upon your enemy
If you would like it, I could have him dead
But only if you asked me for a curse on his head.
Then I looked upon evils ugly face
I shook my head with pity and utter disgrace
As for your offer presented to me, it I will shun
And for enemies and foes, thank GOD I choose none.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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