Means Of Permit
How can living
be scratched.
By present
writer
of poetic verse?
A poet
of interest
is relic read
from bygone age.
A living poet is
in appearance
a valueless medium
Though avenue
of possibility
to be explored.
Publishing may permit
a means establishing.
Time to expend
on enduring passion.
Wish to express and stress
heightening underlining.
Defining differing themes
in thoughts
like wavering streams.
Health emotions left ragged
shifting eddies in turmoil.
Life wasted in passing time.
In circles rippling screeching nervous energy.
Awaiting awaited
decisive developments
past still reaches
lies sight vibrating happening.
Time seems to pass
and in surreal passing.
Where desire lives
skill will may follow.
Time claimed chained.
Harnessed won.
Not lost awhile. Realized
embodiment escapes dreams.
Carefully navigating
waiting web
strains spent snaring life.
Looking for fabled chance
mystic key
out in labyrinth.
Uncharted byway.
Getting grasping
pouncing upon
creative thought.
Getting
creative
thoughts
down.
Charted on paper.
Soft
dreams
deep
calling.
Time
incorporating
fevered
relaxation.
Time write
wrought to come.
Horizons loom
distantly
past cloud banks
vision.
Place of meeting
whereupon rest
circular
skies.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Just Passing Time
She was grasping for a way to tell us all
The hurt she felt inside
Were all too happy she says
Lets have a war
And the night digs deeper in
Theyre just some words to pass the time
Some words to pass the time
Now when the silence gets to be too much
I can feel the soul searching
Where do I go when Ive lost my cause
We are the stories
Even the good ones let me down
There all just words to pass the time
I used to be so sincere
And maybe I still am
And all this small talk Ive been reeling off
Is slowly getting out of hand
I mix real feelings
With the ones I wish I had
And I catch the most important ones
In between them all
Sometimes it seems like theyre all just words
To pass the time
And then weve lost our time
And weve wasted out words
And all the strain is gone
Sometimes its too unreal to believe
Just dont give it all away
Get a grip
Causes sometimes there are just words to pass the time
I said Im too high Im too high
And Im scared of falling down
Ive just been grasping for words
To make you want to stay
To make it worthwhile
I dont want spend the rest of my life
Just passing time
I dont want to spend the rest of my life here
Just passing time
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are the poet
Poet is a journalist
Watches the feelings
Watches the emotions
Watches the world
Watches the light and
Watches the dark
He thinks everywhere
Others can’t imagine
-o-
Chasing the thoughts
Searching the words
Forming the sentences
To give the expression
To put the life in it
-o-
Poet is like a cook
Collecting good ingredients
Cooking the feelings to
Present in better way
-o-
Poet is like a soldier
Fighting in the war and
Fighting with the self
Feeling the pain and
Bleeding the emotions
Making room for self
To express the story
To save the people
-o-
Poet is like mother
Cooking the soft food
Feeding smoothly
Treating the readers like his own kids
Reader’s happiness is poet’s happiness
If you can’t praise, no problem
But don’t forget to acknowledge
-o-
Poet is the center of universe
Editors, Music directors,
Composers, singers, musicians,
Media everybody is rotating around
-o-
Poet writes to quench intellectuals
Poet writes to entertain good listeners
Poet writes to move hearts
Poet writes for a cause
Poet write for entertainment
Poets write to express themselves
Poets write to share their feelings
-o-
When time is running
Poem is the history
In present it reflects the story
Poem gives the hope in future
-o-
Poet is the planter
Plants seeds into your hearts
Make sure that it sprouts
Brings the thoughts into actions
-o-
Poet is the director behind your actions
Poet is the motivator behind your feelings
Poet is the coach who puts you on track
Poet is person whom your heart likes
-o-
Poet is the soldier when he uses poem as bullet
Poet is the coach when his poem moves your heart
Poet is the love, when he gives poem as flower
Poet is the parent, when he consoles you in your troubles
Poet is the healer who heals souls
Poet enters different roles
To justify the poem and to justify the people
-o-
Poem is the form of literature
We can find in holy books
Poem is the feelings
Poem touches the hearts
-o-
Sun can be seen in day
Moon can be seen in night
But poem is there day and night
Poem is powerful than nature
Poem don’t have life and death
Just it flows from heart to heart
Poet is the instrument
In the hands of the poem
-o-
If you drink a cup of alcohol
It may stay there just for hours
If you read a good poem
Nobody knows how long it gives the kick
-o-
When you have time, read a good poem
When you have time, write some poetry
When you have time, share a poem
-o-
You will be the poet, when you read a poem
You will be the poet, when you put on paper
You can be the poet to change your self
You can be the poet to change the world
You must be a poet, to enjoy this life
Waiting for you, to listen to your poem
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Passing Time
Passing time,
Time passes.
And longing for times past.
With no pastime,
I think of past times.
Times of joy.
Sorrowful times.
Layered.
Like an alluvial plain,
I am inundated, flooded.
As the past floods in
Passing by the inner eye
I time travel.
Bad thoughts by passed
Passed all thought
They pass away.
Pass into the past
To lie again quiescent
A timely demise
For times past.
Copyright P H Brookes 20012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Huntress Dancing
hear the echo of time still beating
hear the echo of time still passing
hear the echo of time still singing
pausing for prophet mystic poet
time singing stories of past present
ages whispering events future still
pending altering in fractions pressing
poets and time are a potent mixture
when time veils are shredded wrapped
or embraced in dance of mystic time
time enfolds swallows pressures
disappears drags hunts capturing all
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All My Life
All my life, without a doubt I give you
All my life, now and forever till the
Day I die, you and I will share
All the things this changing world can offer
So I sing, Id be happy just to
Stay this way, spend each day, with you
There was a time, that I just thought
That I would lose my mind
You came along and then the sun did shine
We started on our way
I do recall that every moment spent
Was wasted time but then I chose to lay it on the line
I put the past away
I put the past away
I put the past away
All my life, I will carry you through
All my life, between each hour of the passing days
I will stay with you
There was a time, that I just thought
That I would lose my mind
You came along and then the sun did shine
We started on our way
I do recall that every moment spent
Was wasted time then I chose to lay it on the line
I want this all my life
I want this all my life
I want this all my life
I want this all my life
I want this all my life
I wanted this all my life
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time is just something that we assign. You know, past, present, it's just all arbitrary. Most Native Americans, they don't think of time as linear in time, out of time, I never have enough time, circular time, the Stevens wheel. All moments are happening all the time.
quote by Robin Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet Of Our
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Of Our Time
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Prime Time Of Our Lives
It's the prime time of our lives
And I've never seen us more alive
Now that the night has finally arrived
I'm looking for some fun and to survive
Join hands with me
We'll slow down the time
We'll dance the last song
The prime time of our lives is here in this time for us now
When you reach a certain point in your life
You better push it to the extremes
And that's what we're doing
We're celebrating dreams
We're living dreams
We're creating new dreams
In the prime time of our lives
The time is now
In our choices
In what we thought
In what we bought
In what we've got
Thank god for now
It's the prime time of our lives
poem by Justin Gildow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clay Upon The Wheel
The poet, like the potter,
takes the raw clay of thoughts
and shapes them
through the mind of his loving you.
The beauty of these fragments
without having to expend the energy
to try to express
the image envisioned.
Through the medium
of paper or clay
for personal solitaire,
or the benevolence of other eyes.
Each colour and weave
their thoughts in different patterns
seeing different visions
momentarily lost in their multiple meanings.
At the outset is vision
our struggles to seize or translate it
sully the brightness
in giving it flesh, the vision is muddied, lost.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passing of time
The passing of time through the changing pattern of our thought
Is like a fish passing water over its gills,
Or like a cosmic engine
And not unlike the stream of light passing through pictures
It is leading to our irreversible changing,
It is triggering our memories,
Those emotions that are often evoked
When hearing a piece of music from our past.
The time is perfect..
Present perfect, past perfect, future perfect...
Every time we understand more about ourselves
We are going through an invisible portal
In our awareness.
And every time we think about our awareness
We understand that our cages are within,
Created by fear and the walls we
Have built around our heart.
It is our imperfection the place where our story lives..
We pretend to be perfect, but we hurt each other and
We fail to live up to our own standards...
We are so imperfect and have so much love of ourselves..
Maybe this is why we need to create those perfect moments
For glorious memories,
Resisting the passing of time through the changing pattern of our thought...
Maybe this is why our time together is so precious...
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
8 March 2010.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Days
SOME DAYS I’M TOO TIRED TO BE INSPIRED
AND SOME DAYS I’M QUICK AS A WINK
WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO THINK.
THE THOUGHTS WILL FLOW LIKE WINE IN A GLASS
SHOWING THE PRESENT, FUTURE AND THE PAST.
IT IS NOT REALLY HARD TO DO
IF TO YOURSELF YOU BE TRUE.
LOOK AND LISTEN TO EVERY SIGHT AND SOUND
IT WILL PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU DOWN.
TO ALL THE BEAUTIES THAT CAN BE FOUND.
PUTTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS, FEELINGS
AND DREAMS ON PAPER
NOTHING CAN BE MUCH SAFER.
YOU TELL OF STORIES THAT THEY
NEVER HEARD OF, OR DARED TO DREAM
INTO A FEW LINES.
AND IN THEIR MINDS WILL LAST
FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
WHEN THOSE “ SOME DAYS “ COME TO YOU
AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
SIT AND WRITE JUST A FEW LINES
THEN YOU’LL SEE YOU HAVE THE TIME.
TIME TO ENJOY ALL THE BEAUTIES
THAT SURROUND YOUR LIFE
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS, HUSBAND AND WIFE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reason For Living
I lie alone and thinking
How could this ever happen
Is it real, am I dreaming
And when your hearts been burned
How can someone learn
To get over their fears
You told me I should be strong
Oh, Im trying
I feel I cant go on
You left me here on my own
Without a reason for living
A chance for forgiving
Or time to make it okay
And now Im stuck with the vision of my indecision
Taking it all away
From me
With all the time youre taking
Slowly my hearts been breaking
Youve been fine, Ive been bleeding
Ill have to wait my turn
Your respect Ill earn
No more joking or teasing
You told me I should be strong
Oh, Im trying
I feel I cant go on
You left me here on my own
Without a reason for living
A chance for forgiving
Or time to make it okay (Time to make it okay)
And now Im stuck with the vision of my indecision
Taking it all away
A thousand times before Ive been almost sure
This time I need to know
Ive spent all my life chasing all my dreams
Im not letting this go
Yeah, ooohh
Laaaeeeyy
In my, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah
Without a reason for living (Ooh)
A chance for forgiving
Or time to make it okay (Time to make it okay)
And now Im stuck with the vision of my indecision
Taking it all away
Without a reason for living
A chance for forgiving
Or time to make it okay (Time to make it okay)
And now Im stuck with the vision of my indecision
Taking it all away
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was boy and life was young (ghazal)
There was a strange kind of living time
a kind of experiencing joy time
when I was boy and the world was still young,
when you for me you had lost your meeting time
all of joy, our sweet love was away flung,
as to our love it was the end of time
but never in shame was my head low hung,
and for friendship I could always find time
but of your friends I did not count among,
with years we did not notice passing time
while you did not know where you do belong
we were ready for the effect of time
but still life was like a great kind of song
and now for us, for life there is no time.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Time Machine Mind!
Human mind, dreams, vision and imagination
Can transport one forward and backward in time.
Mind is the time machine to go to past and future
But time never goes backward but only forward;
Also, time never goes in circle but only straight!
Recollection of past is possible in the present;
Visualization of future is possible in the present;
But one cannot go to the past or future ever now!
Hour glass can show the time like clock of today
But it cannot bring back the past to reality now
Or bring to our vision the future of world now!
Mind is the time machine that can read history;
Mind is the same machine to see the future too;
But time never goes to the past but only to future!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time
Time
is your presence.
Time
is your smile.
Time
is your kindness.
Time
is when you linger.
Yet
Time
is also my Enemy.
Time
is the prison guard stopping my dreams.
Time
laughs at me.
Time
is gone in a blink.
Time
is but a mist.
Time
vanishes so quickly.
Time
is not my own.
Time
is not on my side.
Time
wants to run.
Time
wants to stop running.
Time
is my tears.
Time
is my frustration.
Does time have emotions?
Is time a she?
Does she ever get sad
or discouraged like me?
Is time a he?
Does he like to tell me
how I failed yet again,
as I ran late,
and he kept a scorecard?
Does time give grace?
Does time care?
Is time just a hand on a clock,
a page in a book,
or a note from the past?
Time has so many facets
and so many faces.
I wish I could
be on the same team
as time
but somehow it seems
he always rejects me.
poem by Julie A Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time After Time
From Clockstoppers Soundtrack.
Cyndi Lauper cover song.
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And I think of you
Caught up in circles confusion
Is nothing new
Flashback warm nights
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after
Sometimes you picture me
And I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, and I can't hear
What you've said
Then you say go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows you're wondering
If I'm OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
You said go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
song performed by by Uncle Kracker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creases
Falling to pieces
Fold up in creases
Baron trees bending with breeze
No wonder they have no leaves
My mind is a waste land with not thoughts
No thoughts than can hold my attention
Staring at the sky
Thinking if only i
Now i have a thought
No its gone again
Okay just relax and think again
Time to clear my mind
Think of a better time
Well they are a distant memory now
So have i succumbed to being alone to long
Have all my thoughts and emotions
Packed up and gone
Have i been lost from reality way to long
Is it to late to start anew
Can i return to the person i once new
This void i have deep in me
Its not of lost love cause i choose to be free
So what is this void that is emptying me
Maybe my life has gone stale and old
Needing something new excitement to take hold
I know i am just a number
A number in this game
What number am i
Are there numbers the same
Is there someone out there just like me
Seeking the answers of what they should be
Time will tell
Is there enough time to discard this shell
Shell of a life i have been living
Always waiting for a new beginning
How dose that happen how do i start
Where do i enroll how do i take part
Live life to the fullest enjoy every day
How can you do this when you dont know the way
My days are of writing and writing how i feel
Is there nothing left to write about
Nothing more to feel
The life of a Poet
The poet listens
the poet hears
he writes down
all his fears.
He observes things
that others don't
going to places
that others won't.
Inspired by simple things
like a sound or smell
the poet has lots
of stories to tell.
Even when asleep
his mind isn't at rest
in fact this is the time
it's at it's creative best.
The poet can be a restless soul
his life reflected on the page
some verse can be sweet and mild
then full of anger and rage.
The poet can be mysterious
and write in a strange way
he will say Black is White
and that night is day.
The poet is an artist
but instead of paint it's the word
painters want their work to be seen
but poets just need to be heard.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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