Stationary Rage
I want to rip my jaw off and throw it
Carelessly against my very beige walls,
So that the liquid, vernacular spit
Will leak and continuously drip all
Over the spiral-bound notebooks I keep.
I want to let the unhindered words flow out,
Rushing from my throat when I'm welling deep;
When I'm parched by an emotional draught.
I want to feel a stream of berzerking
Thoughts bounce off the lid of my mouth and spill
Until the pages grow heavy, soaking
In the black language of my pen—until
I no longer drown in the failed concepts
Of a reality I can't accept.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who's To Blame
Oh Mother Ghana; Mother Ghana
What has happened to you?
What has happened to your culture?
They say we've fold arms against 'Vernacular' language
Instead opened arms wide to 'English' language
Oh Mother Ghana Mother Ghana
Why?
At school, we are taught the things we do not know
By the 'English' language
Why not 'Vernacular' language?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Where is your true identity as pure African?
Where is your pride as true Ghanaian?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Day after day
When we put on the uniform as students
We are forbidden to speak 'Vernacular' language
Instead the 'English' language
Why Mother Ghana, why Mother Ghana?
When we speak 'Vernacular' language; your culture,
They say: 'Speak English' someone's culture!
When we speak 'English' that someone's culture
They say: 'Abrofosem; speak vernacular language' your culture!
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Who's to blame?
'English or Vernacular language'
Oh Mother Ghana; Oh Mother Ghana.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fluid
emotions you must realize are fluid
and they flow sometimes misguidedly
sometimes blocked and
dammed and you see
a jail, a cell, a wall, an island without a bridge
a sea without a boat
a rainy day without any rainbow,
you are fluid, you must realize that too,
you flow, and surge and rage and
fall, sometimes, you splatter
and feel like a splinter
of a hand
grenade.
you feel something that behaves like a river inside you
and you hear the sound of rage, sometimes just a hush
or even a rain dropping from the sky to the gutter,
and you feel you're inside this gutter
and you have no control, about where to go and what to do,
this is
what is dripping all about
drip, drip, drip, and you feel this sloshing mind like a slime
getting inside the sensational strips of your throat
like words in your mind
pouring unceasingly, to make this poem.
what is this all about? you pretend to know. What to do about it?
i know you do not really know. Gut it. Gut feel it. Trust your heart.
Let the rage seep in like it is an innate part of you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fluid Emotions
emotions you must realize are fluid
and they flow sometimes misguidedly
sometimes blocked and
dammed and you see
a jail, a cell, a wall, an island without a bridge
a sea without a boat
a rainy day without any rainbow,
you are fluid, you must realize that too,
you flow, and surge and rage and
fall, sometimes, you splatter
and feel like a splinter
of a hand
grenade.
you feel something that behaves like a river inside you
and you hear the sound of rage, sometimes just a hush
or even a rain dropping from the sky to the gutter,
and you feel you're inside this gutter
and you have no control, about where to go and what to do,
this is
what is dripping all about
drip, drip, drip, and you feel this sloshing mind like a slime
getting inside the sensational strips of your throat
like words in your mind
pouring unceasingly, to make this poem.
what is this all about? you pretend to know. What to do about it?
i know you do not really know. Gut it. Gut feel it. Trust your heart.
Let the rage seep in like it is an innate part of you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Drown
I'm sorry I'm no longer around.
I'm sorry you can no longer hear my foots steps as they hit the ground.
You angered every inch of me.
Go ahead live in your sin and filth.
All I got left to say is
Just drown.
Just drown.
Just drown.
It's getting harder and harder to keep your head above the same water.
No I'm no longer using my foot to hold you down.
This time it's your doing all on your own.
My hands washed clean.
I have done this so obsessively.
For I can't stand to have a spec of you left on me.
All I got left to say is
Just drown.
Just drown.
Just drown.
You still try to reach me.
But I'm just so far gone.
As that phone rings.
Oh I know that number oh so well.
I'm not answering it.
The person on the other end can go straight to hell.
All I got left to say is
Just drown.
Just drown.
Just drown.
Beg Satan for a greater mercy then I could ever give.
For all the things you did.
I just never can forgive.
A vulnerability you can no longer breach.
I was weak.
But now the walls are made of stone.
I built them all alone while you were sipping drinks upon your favorite beach.
All I got left to say is
Just drown.
Just drown.
Just drown.
Oh how I so wish you would disappear forever.
Instead of this constant nagging.
It is getting to be flat out harassment.
I let go so why can't you.
A normal parting of ways.
That just can never happen.
Not another constant reminder of days past.
Why is it we always want the one thing we can never have?
Such a drag.
All I got left to say is
Just drown.
Just drown.
Just drown.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water On The Brain
(hicks / clarke / nash)
Ive just come in from out of the rain
Its wet outside the water runs down a drain
I go to bed cause my heads full of pain
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Outside the window theres a pipe wearing thin
It lets the water do a dance on a tin
I try to sleep but its making a din
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Water on the brain water on the brain
Water on the brain water on the brain
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
I toss and turn and my patience is weak
Go to the bathroom door and I take a peak yeah
The bath tap has started a leak
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ink (for Theresa Marie)
As I crease each page with the pressure of my point,
Cutting into the flow of each character,
I strive to lay lines to the surface of meaning.
I attempt to make sense of the flow of my thoughts
As I try to define with each separate line
The value that each gesture strives for.
I cut into pieces the correlation
Among the characters in my narrative;
Between scribing and feeling.
But this contradiction between purpose and process,
Between intention and muscle response,
Belies the nature of liquid.
For the amount of flow,
If nature has its way,
Is determined by the size of its reservoir.
So to finish my thoughts
In the context of language
Do I cede to the size of my pen?
Do I rely on the nature of language?
Or the language of nature’s mien?
poem by Dan Ramirez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Carry a Single Rose
I carry a single red Rose
In my tightening hold
For Love is what it propose
At least it’s what I’m told.
It’s fragrance of beauty
Overtakes me with its great power
The air all around me
When I hold a single flower
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
This Rose, a lovely delight
Has already consumed my sense of smell
Now it has stolen my sight
In this symbol of love I dwell
The ruby red petals fill my eyes
Captures the thoughts in my mind
Now I am completely hypnotized
Now I am completely blind.
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
It dazzles me, until it is all I can see
It’s touch so gentle against my cheek
Trapped me inside this beautiful make believe
For my heart, Love it will always seek
The leaves run through my finger tip
As they map a stem so strong and tall
A stem that fit so nicely inside my grip
Its lushes strength adds beauty to it all
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
I hold on for dear life
As my body sets off painful alarms
And now I’m stuck in this strife
Of letting go and hanging on
It’s so perfect, inside my hold
But I can feel the world around me
I can feel it growing cold
Now I am leaving this make believe
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
In a moment of true disgust
I slowly loosen my grasp
And I take away my trust
And wait for my world to collapse
But Pain races through my bones
So I clench a Rose inside my fist
And I realize I am alone
Lost inside this confusing mist
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
And I finally swiftly let go
The Rose falls to the bloody ground
No longer shall my blood flow
No longer shall I be bound
And of this single Red Rose
Petals of Love blinded me to my Pain
Being neither friend nor foe
I wash the blood with tears like rain.
I leave the Rose with all my might
Run, run into the black cold night.
10.15 Saturday Night
10.15
Saturday night
And the tap drips
Under the strip light
And i'm sitting
In the kitchen sink
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Waiting
For the telephone to ring
And i'm wondering
Where she's been
And i'm crying
For yesterday
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
It's always the same
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intro
O-U-T-K-A-S-T
Live, from the center of the earth, 7 light-years below sea level we go,
welcome to Stankonia. The place from which all funky things come. Would you
like to come?
(girl moaning, lasts throughout intro)
Bounce baby. (We're bouncing)
Bounce.
Bounce. (We're bouncing)
2 times bounce bounce. (We're bouncing)
We bouncing. (We're bouncing)
BOUNCE... (We bouncing baby)
(We're bouncing!) C'mon, bounce.
(Bouncing! Bounce baby) Bounce!
Bounce bounce. (Baby!) Bounce bounce.
(Let's bounce) C'mon bounce. (Everybody let's bounce)
(Let's bounce) We bouncing now.
All that bouncing, niggaz be from the H-L. We got Bankhead right here,
southwest and 92 strong.
BREAK!! -clap-
song performed by by Outkast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disturbed waves and the shore
Disturbed waves and the shore
A younger hand reaches out so tenderly
When an older hand trembles feebly
Though misty eyed a vision not quite black
Reaching out for help and no more sack
The clouds chariotted many passing storms
The skies spoke a language in distorted forms
A miraculous light touched days that strayed
When a priceless presence in words swayed
Many thoughts into a kind heart gradually did flow
To brave the world a strength did restore
Expressions of variable feelings it did roar
Emotional waves keep gushing to the sea shore
A serenity to relax when the tides are high
Disturbed waves rise above with a heavy sigh
With a sincere love unconditional like no other.....
Dashing many a sorrow when it becomes a bother
Sharing deep secrets as a friend will understand
The heart rests with tranquility in wonderland.
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Feel Like The Sea-Gull
I feel like the sea-gull
That wanders the ocean-waves calm or tossed
With tempests in mid-Ocean or sea-shore:
I am the sea-gull
That with parched throat
Cries his piercing cry across the landscape
Where sea and sky are only and they meet
In my lone call:
I am the sea-gull that protests
And speaks injustice and its pains
And that is why
My throat is parched – yet I am free
Free in my flight across the air
Flipping around my wings; moving
Flying miles and kilometers moving
Flying near to land as much as can I
For I must bespeak – people must hear me.
My call I know will pierce
And the hearts
That lie now frozen by unjust hands
Will feel the warmth of summer in their innocence
Their throats no longer will be parched
Nor will they thirst
But by the springs of paradise will slake their thirst:
And they will have justice.
And the earth will flower again, no longer groan
Under its burdens
And I
And I, the lonely sea-gull of the ocean-winds
Will cry my eerie cry no more
My deed done my heart can break
And I
The lonely sea-gull will float
Float speechless on the Ocean’s bosom to the skies.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Happens On The Discovery Of Fraud
to hate you
is to slap you with my heavy fist
in your shame you leave, you swell
you disconnect from things
through your bruised arms
a blue breast
a black sky
it takes time for me to really know
you are not there but
soon you will know how i am tasting this
drought, darkness spreading in the sky
my hand shall not take yours
it is too much to hold
because my heart does not beat and
say what should not have been said
when i
close the door forever
you are no longer here
and everything is liquid with
a flow of freedom
you shall be the bitter half of this
break-up
you must remember every word
and cover your mouth
what to declare is certain sorrow
when to summarize
you hypnotize
to see the house falls without its feet
on the grounds of char
and smothered cinders.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Three Words
you write about
three words, and i predict
them from the
beginning,
i look at how your
name spells
letters arranged
so easy to remember
and you hint
about the three words
that i also know....
i know you mean
i love you..
cute, tickle me, like
high school sweethearts
you like it
giggling words
i love you
but grow a little
bit, grow the length of my arms
and muscles on my thighs
grow the nails
in my fingers
some dirt in there
some stains
in my hands
grow some more
yes, have white hairs
and wrinkled forehead
and trembling hands
and some sad stories
as you go along
some griefs
that you cannot contain
move on
with such words as
i quit
i am fed up
move on, grow, let time eat you
bloat in silence
store everything
inside your chest
and hit it with your
fists
do not cry
toughen your jaws
have a rope ready
loosen it a bit
for a while
on the benefit of a
doubt
something that
is reasonable
now, think deep
thoughts
and inhale more air
then exhale
tell me, what are those three words
in your throat?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drip, drip, drip
tears roll down my face
drip, drip, drip
that's all I hear as the tears fall
in the dark
I sit alone as blood runs down my arm
and mixes with my tears
drip, drip, drip
my door is locked
my knife is a deadly scarlet
getting closer every time
to the veins I desirer
drip, drip, drip
I push the blade deeper into my arm
it hurts but it's a good pain
a knock at the door
I grab my friend and scream
as I find the veins I want
drip, drip, drip
my mom walks in as I fall to the floor
my dying words to my mom
'I live no more'
she rushed to my body and calls for my dad
I smile as they see my pain
drip, drip, drip
as my blood hits the floor
my mom screams my name
I smile once more
and say good bye
my mom screams ' why god why? '
the last words I heard were a plea for help
until the final
drip, drip, drip
poem by No Reason To Care
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beige To Beige
No songs on the stereo
That we could sing with anymore
No dance that I can do
That would not embarrass you
A sound bite here and there
With no reason for me to care
Chorus:
Its just beige to beige
Thats all it is these days
Little windows for you to crawl through
You just do whats expected of you
Its just beige to beige to beige
These days
Uniforms for this and that
To be in our club you must wear this hat
Charlies gonna look out for you
You just do what youre supposed to do
Youre gonna fit in here
Just like you should
Learn the rules and learn them good
Chorus:
Its just beige to beige
Thats all it is these days
Little windows for you to crawl through
You just do whats expected of you
Its just beige to beige to beige
These days
If you need a thought
Well give it to you
Our statistics show what we do is true
A world without color
Is a world without sound
A world to keep the rabble down
So close the deal, close the door
Forget about the colors that you knew before
Chorus:
Its just beige to beige
Thats all it is these days, yeah
Little windows for you to crawl through
And charlie gonna take care of you
Its just beige to beige to beige
These days
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intro/Medley
[P Diddy talking]
Q, Mike, Slim Daron...
Da Twelve...
Theres been a lot of drama along the way...
A lotta ups and downs...
Lotta hits...
They've just begun...
Everybody...
Put ya hands together...
Bad Boy, Def Jam, One Twelve...
We did it again baby!!
Let's go...
[112]
Twelves on top
We can do it fast or slow
Let us touch your soul
Just wont stop
Twelves about to lose control
So sit back and enjoy the show
This is how we flow...
[Diddy talking]
we did it again, the twelve, A.T.L Georgia
[112]
This is how we flow...
[Diddy talking]
we did it again baby...and we wont stop, we cant stop.
where them ladies at? where them thugs at?
[112]
This is how we flow...
[Diddy talking]
bounce, bounce, bounce, c'mon, bounce, c'mon, bounce, c'mon bounce, c'mon bounce, c'mon
bounce...
Ya'll aint ready...Q, Mike, Slim, Daron...Show em how it's done...
[112]
This is how we flow...
[Diddy talking]
Show em how it's done...
song performed by by 112
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bounce Bounce!
Waves calling and laughing
Waves ebb and flow
Waves rolling splashing
sandy remnants on the beach.
Bounce Bounce and bouncing
Bounce beats infectious
Bounce arms up and about
Its a dance re-energized
Ball on wall bouncing
Ball hits so hard on wall
Ball bounce taken with ease
Its to hearts sweet infection
Bounce bounce on waves
Bounce Bounce dance re-energized
Bounce like a ball on a wall
As hearts that yearn life is GOLD!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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46
she, too, dislikes it, because it gives her the feeling as though
her head is taken off, makes her body cold so no fire can ever
warm her again. One does not look on poetry as a closed work, the poems go on and on
at all times on one’s head, and snip off a length.
You mush remember the homely definition,
Poetry is the best words in their best order, words in their nth power.
Bony ideas, bloody nerves, held together by the delicate
Tough skin of words…
Words…words...
I agree, I have never started a poem where I know the ending
Always the ending is unpredictable.
Poetry is your personal
Expression making it public, a revelation, a revolution of sort, you throw a pebble to the world.
In essence, poetry is an emotion, said, written in measured motion,
And that motion is an art.
Drip pity, drip pity, drip drip drip drip
Like a dripping rain, from a leaking roof, while one sleeps
To its rhythm.
A wording of highest thoughts, appearing as a
Remembrance, it does not really mean anything, it is simply magical…
But be.
You make a poem, but the reader recognizes it as his own,
But there is no accusation of thievery or plagiarism
A sea animal, evacuating to land, and now wanting to fly in the sky, that is poetry.
Making familiar things rare, as though they are
Not familiar anymore.
Giving habitation to airy nothing.
Giving nothing to everything.
Giving a nobody a nice home like he is now a somebody.
The invisible, made visible, and the visible made invisible.
A quarrel within himself.
In his tranquility, he recollects powerful feelings, and give in
To an spontaneous flow of giving.
That is poetry. Giving, and always giving, no taking, nothing taken.
I, too, dislike it at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poets on Poetry: a collage
she, too, dislikes it, because it gives her the feeling as though
her head is taken off, makes her body cold so no fire can ever
warm her again. One does not look on poetry as a closed work, the poems go on and on
at all times on one’s head, and snip off a length.
You mush remember the homely definition,
Poetry is the best words in their best order, words in their nth power.
Bony ideas, bloody nerves, held together by the delicate
Tough skin of words…
Words…words...
I agree, I have never started a poem where I know the ending
Always the ending is unpredictable.
Poetry is your personal
Expression making it public, a revelation, a revolution of sort, you throw a pebble to the world.
In essence, poetry is an emotion, said, written in measured motion,
And that motion is an art.
Drip pity, drip pity, drip drip drip drip
Like a dripping rain, from a leaking roof, while one sleeps
To its rhythm.
A wording of highest thoughts, appearing as a
Remembrance, it does not really mean anything, it is simply magical…
But be.
You make a poem, but the reader recognizes it as his own,
But there is no accusation of thievery or plagiarism
A sea animal, evacuating to land, and now wanting to fly in the sky, that is poetry.
Making familiar things rare, as though they are
Not familiar anymore.
Giving habitation to airy nothing.
Giving nothing to everything.
Giving a nobody a nice home like he is now a somebody.
The invisible, made visible, and the visible made invisible.
A quarrel within himself.
In his tranquility, he recollects powerful feelings, and give in
To an spontaneous flow of giving.
That is poetry. Giving, and always giving, no taking, nothing taken.
I, too, dislike it at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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