Courage Gained
Written: 2/16/12
About: DaNaizsha Perez
As I sit here and stare longingly into your pretty eyes
I feel as if I've been living a lie
Wanting what I can't have is tendency number one
It's why I'm writing poetry for you after vowing I was done
On Valentine's Day I wanted to nurture and hold you in my arms
For when you're around me the world can do no harm
But what happens when the girl you want desires someone else
Do you stay quiet keeping your true emotions to yourself
Or do you spill your guts and hope for the best
Hoping for some kind of response to cure the unrest
Unrest from a mind that's obviously obsessed with you
Unrest from a desire that's obviously not new
Whether that response comes in the form of a yes or obviously a no
I will always and forever care about you so
I can never tell you this face to face
So here in my poetry has to be the place
Where I've gained the courage to tell you words long past due
Where I've gained the courage to tell you the words: I love you
poem by Jonathan Sewell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Poetry To Me
What is poetry to me- it is words of beauty-words of life
Words of love, pain and sacrifice.
Words of showing and growing and needing and feeding
Words of hope and despairs, wanting and cares.
Poetry takes you into the minds of mankind
From days of old to the present time.
Poetry takes you on trips that you've never been before
And opens up every door.
Poetry becomes a longing, a want, a desire, a need
On which your mind must feed.
It becomes a life within itself
And takes you to the heavens and down to hell.
Poetry becomes a flaming desire
And only writing can put out this fire.
I call it my passion while others say it's my obsession
Yet! No matter what they may think or say
Poetry is here to stay.
So many different types of poetry
For the different minds 'you see'.
You will always find one that will give you meaning
From a loving heart to one that's bleeding.
Jump on the bandwagon and take a hold
For with poetry ' life unfolds'.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope Is An Open Window
(christopher ward/tim tickner/diana ross)
Are we not more than hunger and music
Are we not more than harlequins and horns
Are we not more than color and drums
Are we not more than anger and dance
Give me courage so I can spread it over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
I walk these city streets see the people there
Look into the eyes of quiet despair
And the faces tell a story that words never can
And it falls to everyone of us to try and understand
Out of kindness
One act of grace makes the world we walk a better place
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
We build walls of suspicion with bars of fears
Tell ourselves well be safe in here
I know more brings us together
Than keeps up apart
First we got to tear down these walls within our hearts
We might be strangers, we can be friends
You and I we both need to let somebody in
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
We are secret rivers with shaking hips and crests
Come awake in our thunder so that our eyes can see behind trees
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
Hope is an open window
Loves an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
Gotta be there for each other
Is what we sent here for
Through an open window
We can find a way
To love one another
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is the Divine Part of Man
Poetry haters love to make fun of the touchy-feely stuff
as though that defined who or what poetry is.
Poetry is the last time the sun gets reflected
in somebody's eyes, when they're saying goodbye-
maybe for forever.
And it's that first dropp of rain, touches the new brides veil,
blesses her; as she's lifting it off her face
for the first time, after being kissed in the marriage ceremony.
And poetry might be that bubble,
over the sink.. keeps floating away, fully intact;
even though all the laws of physics and gravity may be saying
it ought not be able to go on existing;
And poetry in motion
is a baby, trying to walk and falling down
again and again;
refusing to give up, surrender
less painful though that might be.
And poetry could even be your hand over my mouth,
because you know that I can never really say
what I am trying so hard to say;
as there's another form of secret communication
connects soul directly to soul,
without confusing or complicated words.
And that is some of the invisible poetry,
lives in the eyes, the hands; the heart of the mind;
and all the hidden, inner recesses of a human being; and even though
something may be a form of poetry for one; it may not be for another.
Finally, if you balled up the emotions together, and then just threw them up
into the open air, not knowing where they might come down, or even if;
this too, could be one of the purest forms of poetry.
My words could go on flowing forever, like a stream, and that could be poetry;
or they might stop without warning and
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poetry Movement
My poems are not sacred
Not something beautiful
-I leave for the afterworld to admire
They are but products
of my pen and mind
-To stay true to these is all I aspire
I don't believe in elitistic poetry
or the words of the Few and Great
-It is the Poetry Movement I desire
I'd like to scream over the rooftops
'Poetry to the people, Poetry of the masses'
-But I know my written words will reach further and higher
poem by Agnes Török
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Desire Will Not Work
Only desire will not give good start
Feel from inner depth and start
Poetry and emotions start with tears
That speaks of your anguish to bear
Make those feeling to be heard in words
Do nothing and wait for blessings from the lord
Words have powerful impact
That makes you to cry with skill and art
You need no pen and paper
That may be like words on water
It may go away with one fresh wave
Nothing will remain in mind for others to behave
Inject emotions that must look real
Undergone with sufferings while making deal
It may then be felt by others same as you
This is principle when you are writing true
You need not ask how they feel about poems
Let it come in form of few words by them
Simple acceptance of facts may certainly make the space
You may then have satisfaction with bright shine on face
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Pictures Of You
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you that I almost believe that they are real
I have been living so long with my pictures of you that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel
Remembering you standing quiet in the rain as I ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed as the sky fell and holding you close
How I always held close in your fear
Remembering you were the song through the night
You were bigger and brighter and whiter than snow
Screaming at the make believe, screaming at the sky and you finally found all your courage to let it all go
Remembering you falling into my arms, crying for the death of your heart
It was stone white, so delicate, lost in the cold, you were always so lost in the dark
Remembering you, how you used to be, so proud you were angels, so much more than everything
Hope for the last time, it'd slip away quietly
open my eyes but I never see anything.
If I'd only I thought of the right words, I could have held on to your heart
If I'd only I thought of the right words, I wouldnt be breaking apart...
All my pictures of you
Looking so long at these pictures of you, I'd never hold onto your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true, but always just breaking apart.
My pictures of you
There is nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to never feel breaking apart
All my pictures of you
song performed by by Lit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pictures Of You
I've been looking so long at these
Pictures of
You that i almost beleive that they're real i've
Been living so long with my pictures of you that
I almost believe that the pictures are all i can
Feel
Remembering you standing quiet in the rain as
I ran to your heart to be near and we kissed as
The sky fell in holding you close how i always
Held close in your fear remembering you
Running soft through the night you were bigger
And brighter and wider than snow and
Screamed at the make-believe screamed at the
Sky and you finally found all your courage to
Let it all go
Remembering you fallen into my arms crying
For the death of your heart you were stone
White so delicate lost in the cold you were
Always so lost in the dark remembering you
How you used to be slow drowned you were
Angels so much more than everything oh hold
For the last time then slip away quietly open
My eyes but i never see anything
If only i had thought of the right words i could
Have hold on to your heart if only i'd thought of
The right words i wouldn't be breaking apart all
My pictures of you
Looking so long at these pictures of you but i
Never hold on to your heart looking so long for
The words to be true but always just breaking
Apart my pictures of you
There was nothing in the world that i ever
Wanted more than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that i ever
Wanted more than to never feel the breaking
Apart all my pictures of you
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is
Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.
Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.
When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.
poem by Tendai Maturure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Poem About Poetry
THERE IS A POEM ABOUT POETRY
There is a Poem about Poetry
That has never been written
It waits somewhere hoping to be heard
It has in it all the Beauty of words
And all the silence no sounds can ever bring
Its Beauty has a Laughter and a Love
Only exuberant and exalted words can know
It is sacred and holy as psalms of praise
And was written by the Creator
Long before Writing had a Name.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Wedding Day
My wedding day
The day before it we had a fight
Bits and pieces stay in the mind
Your tears and my fright
For all you would not say,
Became as a wall between us that night.
My wedding day
So many lights
Wanting to disappear into the crowd
Can't you take me away?
Please, listen......
Hear the words I am afraid to say.
My wedding day
Why in the world am I here?
This isn't truly where I long to be....
Please, just say the words,
The ones you'd speak to set me free.
My wedding day
A smile on my face to mask the sorrow
This wasn't what I wanted....
I've truly only wanted you.
The biggest mistake I'll ever make...
Are these vows I'm about to take.
My wedding day
And in the end I am in your arms
But for only heartbeat; a moment-
You hold me close as your tears overflow.
All I ever really wanted was to hold you....
And forever it breaks my heart
That you chose to let me go.
I Can Write Poetry All Day Long
I CAN WRITE POETRY ALL DAY LONG
I can write Poetry all day long
But what will it give me?
There is just so much others will listen to
If anything?
And what is the value of writing words to myself for myself
Even if I love them
And believe they are real poetry,
And know in my soul
That their music is real?
I can write Poetry all day long
Or think I am writing poetry
When I am not-
Am I writing poetry now?
I feel I am-
Within me there is the song and the sound
There is the music of poetry
But is it real
Or only my self- deception?
Can I write poetry all day long?
Can I write poetry at all?
I am writing poetry now
Or so I tell myself-
But as I write this
The music within
Is already fading
And I hear in myself
The silence of my own lonely sound.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Print
leaving a heart print
behind my poetry
is more than leaving
a treasure
a rare treasure
forever etched in my heart
it is more
than the highest rating that I got
even if some words
are not too deep to utter
nor in a sophisticated manner
but simple words to convey
giving my simple voice behind
it is in writing poetry
that we capture in words our feelings
the magic of human life and emotions
we wanted to convey,
to reach out
to be understood
and to understand
writing poetry
is sometimes lonely
takes me
into that place
of deep feeling
that leads to praying
my conversation to a God
who knows it all,
my all, my everything
thanks a lot,
for those wonderful heart prints
you wonderfully
and lovingly left behind
it means so much to me
they are....
the treasures of the heart
poem by Meggie Gultiano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Isnt It Midnight
Written by christine mcvie.
So cool, calm and collected
You had a style, a rakish style
Well my poor heart never connected
Youd stay so long on my mind.
Well, isnt it midnight on the other side of the world
Do you remember t
The face of a pretty girl
The face of a pretty girl
Looking back so long ago
You had a knack, a knack of making women know
Ooh there wasnt the time
And I knew youd nver be mine
Well, isnt it midnight on the other side of the world
Do you remember
The face of a pretty girl
The face of a pretty girl
The face of a pretty girl
Isnt it midnight on the other side of the world
Do you remember
The face of a pretty girl
The face of a pretty girl
The face of a pretty girl
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever And For Always
introduction
in your arms, i can still feel the way u want me when u hold me
i can still hear the words u whisper when u told me
i can stay right here forver in your arms.
And there ain't no way im letting you go now
and there ain't no way, and there ain't no how
Never see that dayyyyyy
Coz im keeping you forever and for always
We will be together all of our days
wanna wake up every morning to your sweet face
alwaysssssssss
in your heart i can still hear the beat
for everytime you kiss me,
And when we're apart i know how much you miss me
i can feel your love for me in your heart
repeat chorus
wanna wake up every morning
in your eyes i can still see the look of the one,who really loves me
the one who wouldn't put anything else in the world above me
i can still see your love for me in your eyes
repeat chorus x2
im keeping you forever and for alwaysssss
ahhhhhh
ohhhhh
forever in your eyes.
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No secrets do any mirror reveal
No secrets do any mirror reveal,
but to age impacting, the years leaving impressions on my face
and no urgency do I feel
to make haste
and to this I am not blind
and I am the only one
and have no heed to form another of my stock and kind
but my poetry, my words are left when I am gone.
In war I have seen the jeopardy of man, his courage
on a senseless cruel earth
but in this time and age
let others bring children in the world, give birth:
my time shall come to rise again, when my Lord come
and with Him to go to an unspoilt home.
[Reference: Sonnet 3 “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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What I Wanted To Say But Never Could
9-10-07
I’ve tried to tell you
I’ve tried to say it
Just never could find the words to
My words float off into the distance when I’m around you
All the cleaver, and intelligent things I want to say go out the window
When I’m around you with people around us
It seems I always choke on my words
Ya I know it’s kind of childish but I just cant help it
I just want to say so many things to you but I cant say them
I can’t tell you what I need to tell you in person so maybe
My poetry can say it for me
You’re a nice, kind, funny, respectable, and mature guy
Mature enough for me not to worry about you telling everyone
What I wanted to say but never could
There isn’t a day that I don’t think
I don’t wonder
What it’s like to be with you
What it’s like to be the girl with you
What it’s like to be in your arms
What it’s like to feel your kiss
What your hand feels like against my skin
There isn’t a week that doesn’t go by that I don’t kick my ass
For not telling you what it is that I want to tell you
If I tell you I’m afraid
Of you laughing in my face
Afraid of you saying I’m not good enough for you
I’m like dirt under your feet
Afraid of rejection
Afraid of no one loving me
Afraid of being alone
But what am I saying
After all it’s you I’m talking about here
Your nicer then that
So go a head if you want to
Break my heart
You wont see my tears
If that’s what you want
I’m a big girl
I can take it
Even if the answer is no
I’ll still say that your one of the three guy’s
Who I would ever even think about
Asking
Do you love me
I don’t think so but
Miracles can happen
I love you and would love to be your girlfriend
That is what I’ve wanted to say but never could
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is Mumbling This Is Rambling
do not care to read me carefully, just skim over
some words that may call your preferential attention.
do not mind the smaller ideas, or the images that
you find hard to imagine. They may not be images
after all but just blotches of my stains, the negligence
of my trembling fingers, the lapses of my brains,
the slip of my tongues, the cliches of humanity,
seeking meaning in the meaninglessness of words.
this is mumbling, this is plain rambling
do not ever mind what i am writing. this is not about you.
or myself, or the society that like sheep simply graze on the grass
not knowing that on the next step is the landmine that kills them,
or why look for the meaning of loneliness in words or lines or poetry.
are you going home tonight? on a train. sit there. look over the window.
see the line of trees, do they shout at you? No.
and move your eyes, as though you are scrolling for names on the
cell phone, like roving camera, you do not have to look that far on the
20th person sitting across the other side.
someone is sitting next to you. listen to his silence.
feel the vibrations of all his problems. try to unmask the cover of his face.
are there words covering his face? none.
or if words cover his face and body, try reading them all silently.
most of the truths are not said. Not even written. You always see them
next to you. Be it on the train, the bus or the plane. Or simply when you
walk along the cemented paths of the park. Here comes another
lost soul. Talk to him. Do not write poetry.
this is mumbling this is plain rumbling. Do not speak poetry.
write them and let them cover your face. That is the best way to speak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spoke To The Heart
many will read
few will comment
written words provoked
no response
in heart of emptiness
no answering echo chimed
perhaps these probing words
were not written to you
perhaps your faith
was still fledgling
unable to leave nest
to venture forth
upon world adventures
courage to take wing
was lacking
it was not your time
words never spoke
to your heart
perhaps they were not
written to you
perhaps you never
opened minds eye
perhaps you never will
perhaps this is not
your life purpose
perhaps to lead is
not written upon
enlightened soul
is not an aspiration
also born are those
who must follow
who must serve
poem by Terence George Craddock
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