School report
You stood behind me
Watching, looking over my shoulder
I saw you writing
'Could have done better'!
I screwed up the paper
It missed the bin
My destination.... to write? ? or
There was more poetry in watching you
Unravelling the argument from your eyes
Burning still
So much passion lost in trying
So many paintings in the making
I make a sketch
Without true features
Passed blurring
Life is moving just below the windowsill
Shapes and bodies swimming
Pools of light ripple on the water
Barely visable
But not for want of trying
Crowds full of paintings
Shaken petals on a black wet pavement? I Pound a quote out!
[badly.......]
Words barely visable
Losing their way
Returning to nothing
I can see you watching
I watch you writing
'Could do better'
Barely visable
Not for the want of trying
I laugh and give myself an A for 'effort'
An A? What the hell does that mean?
In this world something has to make sense,
Survival after all must be 'worth surviving for! '
Not for the want of trying,
The want, of 'trying!
magnolia Turtle Bridge
'SCHOOL OF PROFOUND ISMS'
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Watching Me Watching You
I sit by the cutting on the beaconsfield line.
Hes watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
And pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
Making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
At the cocktail party with a bucks fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesnt speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
What the hells he trying to say.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching
The trains go by.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching For Shapes
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Influences now are things that are all around me
Changing shape as they move around in an open mind
Coloured in by the images I find
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
Like electric sparks they danced by an open mirror
Closing doors never looking round but its not goodbye
Theyll be there till Im taken out I know
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
In my mind theres a space thats full of painted pictures
Things I did that I went through, but cant recall
Now and then theres a flash of the unknown
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Shooting Stars
I heard him say,
When asked
What it felt like when love was lost
When depression overcame,
'Like no love was left in my heart
I checked other parts of my body
It's no longer there either
I'm not sure when it burned out
It was there once
Felt by the rest of my body
Intensified by proximity
To its intended target
Love generated its own light
Created its own heat
I looked for words to describe it
Landed on shooting stars
A thrill to see
Something special
While flying by
But where do they go
That's the problem
I found out
They aren't going
Indefinitely anywhere
For a short time
We see a visable light
Created by them
Then the light is gone
Small pieces of dust rock ice
Debris from the tail of a passing comet
Ignited by friction visable part a meteor
Just passing through our atmosphere
We only see the light
Meteoroids are what causes it
Not as romatic sounding
As Shooting Stars
If by chance one's unusally large
Over a few kilograms
Some parts will
Survive the burning
What's left
That falls to earth
Some say is
Just a piece of cold rock
What was on the outside
Heated up
Burned up
And is gone
What hits earth
Is now called a meteorite
Differnent names
For the different stages
Actually the term
Falling in love
Is a pretty accurate metaphor
When compared to shooting stars
Made up of dust rock and ice
Made visable when heated by friction
Then either slams to earth leaving a scarr
Or is vaporized and is gone.'
That's what he said,
In so many words.
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching
I'll be watching you.
Through all your days, all you do.
All the while I sit and stew.
Knowing that I'm meant for you.
You don't know me, but I know you.
From a distance I sit and watch around the clock.
Knowing one day that we'll f***.
This fate you cannot duck.
I watch you till the day is dead,
dreaming of your lovely head.
I'm watching you, you know it's true.
I only have eyes for you.
Your innocence so true,
I truly long to be with you.
Your eyes so bright.
I bet you're tight.
Your passion gives me such a fright.
I'm watching you, and one day soon.
I'll come get you and lead you to your doom.
Until then I'll be watching you.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Class of 2011
Drama is the ruler of this school.
Poise, attitude, and all the cliques.
Cheerleaders, Jocks, Emos, Preps.
All the same but convinced that they are different.
Our lives still go on, all the same.
Now in the future
The fifteen year anniversary
Everyone acts the same.
But they look so different.
Then you see their true selves.
The jocks and cheerleaders have gained some weight.
The emos and preps look human for once.
Your best friends still talking to the all time quarter back.
The disguises have dissolved.
No longer exsisting
The days go by
We lose our friends and fellow class mates.
Although our numbers are barely visable.
Together we stand.
Class of 2011
Forever we’ll remember
poem by Megan Faith Hendrix
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I Will Not Paint Those Paintings
I used to see paintings in my mind's eyes
I used to dream scenes amazing paintings
I used to dream paintings in sleep sight
paintings in details I had never seen before
paintings which stopped heart in sight shock
I knew canvases were awkward hard to carry
to travel with poems is only paper and pen
paint your paintings inspiring I write poems
I will not soul carry paint those paintings
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out of the Blue A Patch of Green
-****Rousseau alleged to have used
a pallette of a hundred and some-odd
different greens
in one painting********
-------------------------
There was an empty table
Next to mine
She walked by dressed in green
Holding her coffee she took a spare chair
Then sat down her back to me
She got my attention
My guess was
She was not
Encouraging nor
Expecting company
After the green hit me
Came the pleasent smell
Over the roasting coffee
It was like in the cartoons
When the drawing of the scent
Comes under the guy's nose
Lifts him off his seat
He floats acrosss the room
Led by his nose
By the visable wafts
Who knows what scent it was
I suppose there are some
Who can tell and know its name
All I knew
It was pulling on me
Back to the green in the chair
Darker green at the seams
Slacks lighter green
Leather jacket and
Shoes both different green
Tail of a sweater
Below back of the jacket
Damn another darker green
I wish I had names
for all these greens
Ankles are barely showing
A light tan do they still call it hose
A beige I guess
Probably has a better
Brand name I also don't know
I'm writing this down
As fast as I can
I was working on other stuff
But this is too good to forget
Living in the moment observing
I was thinking
This green is going
To be gone soon
I'm almost out of writing paper
To describe anything more
My coffee's getting cold
What's she here for
To be seen
To just drink coffee
Pass the time until
I look up the green is gone
All I'm left with is
A cold cup of coffee
And this
For you to read
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back Again
For days my world seemed empty,
as the words had flown
never it seemed to return.
Then I woke up this morning
and they were back again.
As if by magic,
my pen did not want to stop writing again.
The words are flowing again
like water from a full open tap,
so fast sometimes
that I can barely get them down on paper
before the next lot come around.
Where they being stored for just this certain day?
I do not care for the answer
only that they are back again
and my pen is overflowing
once more with new ideas.
All I can do is hope they will not go away again,
at least for a little while.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Private Eyes
Lyrics & music: daryl hall, warren pash, sara allen, janna allen
I see you, you see me
Watch you blowin the lines when youre making a scene
Oh girl, youve got to know
What my head overlooks
The senses will show to my heart
When its watching for lies
You cant escape my
Private eyes
Theyre watching you
They see your every move
Private eyes
Theyre watching you
Private eyes
Theyre watching you watching you watching you watching you
You play with words you play with love
You can twist it around baby that aint enough
Cause girl Im gonna know
If youre letting me in or letting me go
Dont lie when youre hurting inside
cause you cant escape my
Private eyes
Theyre watching you
They see your every move
Private eyes
Theyre watching you
Private eyes
Theyre watching you watching you watching you watching you
Why you try to put up a front for me
Im a spy but on your side you see
Slip on, into any disguise
Ill still know you
Look into my private eyes
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angels
Take this man to prison, the man heard herod say,
And then four squads of soldiers came and carried him away.
Chained up between two watchmen, peter tried to sleep,
But beyond the walls an endless prayer was lifting for his keep.
Then a light cut through the darkness of a lonely prison cell,
And the chains that bound the man of God just opened up and fell,
And running to his people before the break of day,
There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing to say:
Angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
God only knows the times my life was threatened just today.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home.
But I know theyre all around me all day and through the night.
When the enemy is closing in, I know sometimes they fight
To keep my fight from falling, Ill never turn away.
If youre asking whats protecting me then youre gonna hear me say:
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angles watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me.
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me!
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A day with the snow
A park of winter in the thickest layer of snow
The emptyness fills the area
But solumness and peace still wonder
Pavemnet of ice slides the vistitors around
The grass now barely visable
A large patch of peace disturbed softness
This now holds home to a snowman
Still holding the echos of childrens laughter
The office workers with a coffee break of chatter
As they walk in the pairs of their bussiness talks
And as they leave for the night
The day will continue
Until midnight where the frost settles
Once again to reunite with the grass
Making another snowy day ahead
poem by Daniel Laurence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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(Confused Poem) Barely Breathing
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Gone Astray.
Becoming One Of Lords Dismayed.
No More Faith.
Just A Bitter Taste Left With The Lust Of Revenge.
I Don't Think I Can Be Fixed.
I've Been Broken
And My Soul Will Never Be Re-awoken.
No Sense Of Remorse.
That Twist In Your Stomach Just No Longer Affect Me.
Sorrow Is A Waste Of My Time.
Call It Collateral Damage If You Will.
But I'm Still Empty.
Voided Out As Part Of The Past.
But I'm Still Here.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Like A Zombie Is My Body The Only Part Of Me Still Beating.
Morbidly Angry,
Hate With The Sweetest Embrace.
This Is The Place I Call Home.
Walking A Shadow Of A Past Life All Alone.
Screams Ring Out But No One Is Ever Listening.
Everybody Is Just So Distant.
A Wolf Must Lead The Pack.
But What Happens When The Hes Abandon For The Better
The Stronger
The Faster.
It's In Humanity That We Shelter The Weak.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Do These Questions Bring Out The Fear.
Does It Scare You When I'm Near.
I'm No Different Then You.
Just Flesh Blood.
My Pain Has Just Disappeared.
Oh How I Miss It.
Like Being Stabbed In Heart I Wish For It.
Every Single Day
And Still I Stand In Silence In The Shadows.
Where I Wont Be Noticed Or Missed.
I'm Waiting For Deaths Deadly Kiss.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Just Barely Breathing.
Oh Where
Oh Where Am I?
How In The Hell Did I Get Here?
Like I Will Ever Really Know.
This Life Just Goes
Goes On
And On.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Bruises I
I can stare into the blackness,
the void of many abysses
behind every dark curtains
I can endure calm and silence
watching pole dancers grind,
watching stars scintillate,
watching still shadows on the walls,
watching dislimned reflections,
watching trees pass me by,
watching ethers wash the screen,
watching my lonely feet,
watching little things sway;
but am I the only one watching
these black bruised visions?
poem by Norman Santos
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Living In A World That Some Can Not Leave
Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.
And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living high in a castle,
Without a mote.
Isn't easy to do...
When one searches the horizon,
For a delivery...
Of an awaited treasured boat.
And one who demands,
They can command steps quicker...
While jumping double dutch,
Without a visable rope.
Should be left alone...
If a commitment to doing this is shown.
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
People should be left to live lives they believe!
Living in a world that some can not leave.
Living in a castle and there is no mote...
And waiting for delivery of a big boat,
While jumping double dutch without a visable rope...
Some need!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sanity
Being alone,
writing poetry
to meet the infinity
on paper.
The words will not come
to me. I am trying
to catch the moment.
One by one-
I light the candles,
watching you slithering.
A transient truce
with my hands.
Collecting the broken
light years. Enter
into the eyes. O river. The hunger
to trap you is increasing.
poem by Satish Verma
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Isms, Isms, Isms
thank god poetry has inched its way
into the hearts of the common man again
let's not make its journey there too laborious
let's write poems for the common man
like Blake, like Wordsworth, like Neruda
poems that sing and dance as they make their
way out to the the sea of humanity
poems of the Creator's brush that paint an
enchanting innocent world to be unravelled
as they make their way into the repository of human knowledge
let's make it all that simple, like making tea
when all we have to ask is whether it should
be sweet or plain yet are sure it will be fully savoured
let's write poem with the common men's words
so that it can be embraced without apprehension
let's not extort an art of its life and gentility so that
they are drowned in a sea of isms, isms, isms
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Private Poetry
Every poem, Every poetry,
Where are all the poets?
Hiding out, Hiding away.
In the beaches, forests,
In the caves and rooms,
In the islands and temples.
Make their private poetry,
Every now and then,
Here and there,
Over here, Over there.
Somewhere, somewhen,
Someone, somebody,
No one, No body,
Some here, some there.
Somehow, not matter how,
Everywhere, every when,
Every turn, every look,
Every search, every research,
There is a private poet.
Making a private poetry,
Writing private poems,
Writing lovely poems,
Writing profound poetries.
For the world and all
To ponder,
To reflect,
To open our heart,
To hear and listen;
What poets have
To say and write,
In a private poetry,
For the world to read
And treasure.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fighting For Night
Sitting and watching the sun rise
knowing time is near
time to laugh
time to smile
time to cheer
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
over the puffy white clouds
over the bright blue sky
over a home town
Lyeing watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
down to the ground
down to the greenest of grass
down to meet your tears
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
up past the stars
up past the sun's lost glem
up to where it shins too full
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
not watching
not breathing
not hearing
not frowning
Swaying
Laughing from below
watching your body away
watching the rope in the moon light
watching gathering people
watching them cut you down
Laughing from below
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
Laughing from below
Laughing
from
below
poem by Kathlyn Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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