A Joy!
It’s a joy smelling to high heavens
At day’s end, tending my garden
Dressed in mud
Kissed by the sun
It’s a joy singing old tunes
Alone, in a crowd
Loosing the key midway
Pulling it off anyways
It’s a joy dancing naked
Before my most feared critic
Peaking at myself in a
Horror-struck vanity mirror
It’s a joy being silent
When all else profound
A frog, yellow bellied
Dozing off on a lotus leaf
It’s a joy being loud
When the world dumbfounds
A crow rising at dawn
Training its vocal muscle
It’s a joy, letting fingers roam
Whenever they insist on
As I inscribe in earnest
My holy viewpoint
Oh joy!
I can write
When all else
Cease to exist
poem by Deva De Silva
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Related quotes
Phileas the Frog
Phileas the frog was awfully large -
To see the muscle in his thighs -
A sight bedazzling to your eyes!
With plenty there to feed a town -
If you would dare to take him down!
Phileas the frog could tow a barge.
One hefty bound could clear a tree -
A scary sight I'll guarantee!
And something else to make me dread:
Were he to land upon my head!
Phileas the frog was known as 'Sarge -'
Accounted by that massive chest.
No other frog would care to jest
That tidy Phileas!
So if you've sense and know your place -
And hold some value to your face,
Then don't get supercilious
With Phileas!
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved.
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Scared yet Feared
Fear.
Fear of being lonely.
Fear of letting someone past.
Fear of getting too close.
Fear of being hurt.
Fear of letting go.
Fear of hurting him.
Fear of not one but two.
Fear of loosing me.
Fear of loosing you.
Fear of the pain.
Fear of the love.
Fear of your kiss.
Fear of your hugs.
Fear of my life.
Fear of yours.
scared. yet Feared
poem by Morgan Tayce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirror Mirror
I see a damsel
In danger and distress
I see that she is pretty
I see a young girl
Dressed in a dirty dress
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest one of all
I see a fat girl
With her hair a mess
I see that she is pretty
I see a proud girl
She's pregnant i would guess
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest one of all
Mirror mirror do not fail
Who deserves to go to jail
I see the school girls
Dressed in their sunday best
I see that they are pretty
I see the wagon trains
Of pioneer women heading west
I see that they are pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest one of all
Creature creature, here the plan
Leads unto the fall of man
I see a matron
Unbuttoning a tightly fitting dress
I see that she is pretty
I see a maiden
She's careless like all the rest
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest one of all
Mirror mirror do not fail
Who deserves to go to jail
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who's the prettiest one of all
Mirror mirror humor me
Do they see what i see
Gordon gano: vocal, guitar, violin, baglama
Brian ritchie: upright bass, reed organ
Guy hoffman: drums, percussion, vocal
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dv's perversion room, milwuakee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fairytale Endings
The kingdom of man is a tragic joke,
One we cackle and cry at until we croak,
And fairytale endings don't really exist,
For a frog is a frog even after it's kissed.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Mirror Mirror (I See A Damsel)
I see a damsel
In danger and distress
I see that she is pretty
I see a young girl
Dressed in a dirty dress
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Whos the fairest one of all
I see a fat girl
With her hair a mess
I see that she is pretty
I see a proud girl
Shes pregnant I would guess
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Whos the fairest one of all
Mirror mirror do not fail
Who deserves to go to jail
I see the school girls
Dressed in their sunday best
I see that they are pretty
I see the wagon trains
Of pioneer women heading west
I see that they are pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Whos the fairest one of all
Creature creature, here the plan
Leads unto the fall of man
I see a matron
Unbuttoning a tightly fitting dress
I see that she is pretty
I see a maiden
Shes careless like all the rest
I see that she is pretty
Mirror mirror on the wall
Whos the fairest one of all
Mirror mirror do not fail
Who deserves to go to jail
Mirror mirror on the wall
Whos the prettiest one of all
Mirror mirror humor me
Do they see what I see
Gordon gano: vocal, guitar, violin, baglama
Brian ritchie: upright bass, reed organ
Guy hoffman: drums, percussion, vocal
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwuakee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abaude: Night into Morning
We lie under high arched windows
awake in the deep winter night
and gaze on the tallest trees
glazed in silver light.
They reach up to the radiant moon,
their fingers spread bare and plain,
raised in silent prayer
after December's cold, hard rain.
Your face is bathed in these holy rays,
and I fight sleep; I cannot turn away
from truth so deep as the moon beaming
through our wintering trees ardently streaming.
But I close my eyes for a moment, then see
dawn drawing azure from night's darkest seed,
and the trees' golden limbs rising on high
to praise morning's vaulting blue sky.
So I arise and turning to you I see
how night flows to dawn eternally
and to the resurgent world restores
the spring of our never-ending joy.
poem by Steven Federle
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Crow song
Crow singing...
Crow singing...
Every budy did not lision...
Crow was singing...
Ka ak a kka kk ka aa...
Song was not ugly...
But...
Crow voice was
Ugly...
So...
Crow singing...
Non stoped...
Crow did not singing for
not for you and me...
only at crows...
So...
Crows singing....
With ugly voice loudeley...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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A Frog
There stands upon a leaf,
A tiny frog,
With yellow skin,
And large round eyes,
In search of insects-food!
The little frog can camouflage,
And appear dead,
Or look like flowers,
To escape foes,
And predators that strike.
Like energized spring-box,
The frog can leap;
The frog can fly;
The frog won’t fall,
As they hold on
To weeds and stalks of plants.
Oh, what a queer Amphibian
Are frogs born free!
Some are big too;
Their tongues are long,
And so sticky;
They flick it out and catch their prey.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-12-2008
poem by John Celes
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Alankar(Decor) -48
1 Lotus(Cameo)
Lotus!
From deep heart of dirt
To the high head of bright lit sun
Wonderful
To my eyes' vision as you bloom
Cease not just your disc of bliss
Lotus
2 Freeing(Cameo)
Vanish
O'soul this moment
Forgetting self changing Matter
Engraved
Into your poise of Lotus deep
Over to heaven to taste
Nectar
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Holding The Noon Stillness
holding the
noon stillness
frog on a lotus leaf
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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And Blame Myself for the Lost
I do not want to look at the mirror
Hanging on the wall of my little room
It makes me naked; naked to myself
I do not want to look at the mirror
Hanging all around in the open street
It makes me old; wrinkled and rough
They are my mirror; the people I see
The old people I see ever day
You are my mirror. Come close, stand by me
I do not want the mirror to torture me
I want to use it and melt the sun
And blame myself for the lost
I fail to exist without it
All night I pursue my lost self
Mirror is everywhere, but useless
I do not need it for anything
Not for looking at myself
I want to use it and dry the ocean
And blame myself for the lost.
I do not need the mirror, it's transparent.
poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
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I've never taken vocal lessons. My early trumpet training and a fortunate talent for singing has always been enough for me. In the case of rock singing, I've always felt it was better to remain a bit untrained to maintain your individuality.
quote by Ronnie James Dio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Game Of Words In Any Place At Any Time...
this is my favorite game of words
that i engage in at any hour of the day
and in any other place
i can create them outside the paper and
without the use of pen
sometimes it happens that way when i ride
in a bus and the destination is 36 hours away
or even in a span of minutes
when sleep does not come
or when nap is nil
my fingers help to put music by tapping its nails
on the metal rail
and there is dancing and singing and some speeches in between
soliloquies
silhouettes
six-shooters
jailbirds
farmers reaping
hay on a sunny day
as though the room is a place where
party and conversations co-exist
i do not put more than what is necessary
it is enough to just survive the hours of pressure
the little training of torture
the principle has always been
i only use what is here
i discard what is not found here
there are no expectations from the beams
there is no show of shadows
i let imagination go
and let reality stay for a while
one by one i enumerate what i can contain by the numbers of my fingers
i think of the names
of friends
i gaze upon myself
i am glad i give myself a smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet XXVII: Naked You Are As Simple as one of your Hands
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
You have moonlines, applepathways:
Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as the night in Cuba;
You have vines and stars in your hair;
Naked, you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails,
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Morning (Poem From The Movie Il Postino)
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
you have moon-lines, apple-pathways:
naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as a night in Cuba;
you have vines and stars in your hair;
naked, you are spacious and yellow
as summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails-
curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
and you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed - drops its leaves-
and becomes a naked hand again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dawn Dance
What do you think I saw to-day when I arose at dawn?
Blue Wrens and Yellow-tails dancing on the lawn!
Bobbing here, and bowing there, gossiping away,
And how I wished that you were there to see the merry play!
But you were snug abed, my boy, blankets to your chin,
Nor dreamed of dancing birds without or sunbeams dancing in.
Grey Thrush, he piped the tune for them. I peeped out through the glass
Between the window curtains, and I saw them on the grass -
Merry little fairy folk, dancing up and down,
Blue bonnet, yellow skirt, cloaks of grey and brown,
Underneath the wattle-tree, silver in the dawn,
Blue Wrens and Yellow-tails dancing on the lawn.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Love Is A Many Splendored Thing
Love is a many splendored thing
Its the april rose that only grows in the early spring
Love is natures way of giving a reason to be living
The golden crown that makes a man a king
Once on a high and windy hill
In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true loves a many splendored thing
Once on a high and windy hill
In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true loves a many splendored thing
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fantasies Of A Mirror Part-1
The mirror gasped as she stood in front of it with her tresses flowing longingly
The mirror looked in her dark brown eyes
The mirror admired her almost perfect lips
The mirror gazed longingly at her perfect hips
The mirror took her in its arms
The mirror embraced her reflection in itself
The mirror ran its fingers through her soft hair
The mirror kissed her lips a thousand times
The mirror bit her slender neck
The mirror whispered a thousand nothings in her ears
The mirror …..The mirror ……The mirror
The mirror left its love bites all over her soft warm body
poem by Leonard Rebello
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The Friendship Of The Frogs
this the picture of a green frog
with big rolling eyes
like a golf ball
it floats on a lily leaf
beside it a big yellow lily flower
the waters ripple
it is a happy frog of friendship
that my friends sent me an hour ago
and my friend wants it back
in a minute
to assure
that i still want her back
i am thinking like a slimy frog.
shall i send it back or not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eht Emas
There once was a place where everyone was Tan
Every woman, child, and man
Tan hair, Tan shoes, Tan skin, and Tan clothes
Why they were all Tan is something that nobody knows
For you see in this place of monotonous living un-Tan beings were unheard of
There was a very strange thing about these Tan people.
For you see the Tan people had wings but many feared to fly
A Yellow man came to this place one day
It seemed that the Yellow man was strange
His hair was not Tan and his skin was not Tan
He smiled more often and dressed funny too
His name was Alabazoo
He came from a place called Tnereffid
The Tan people were irate and filled with hate
Who did this Yellow man think he was?
As much as the Yellow man tried to be liked the Tan people would not budge
The Yellow man offered the Tan people Brownies they wanted Fudge
Though it seems some of Tan people preferred Brownies,
Some secretly wished for Fudge
They growled and they hissed until the Yellow man left
Leaving the Tan people of Lamron to their life.
The Tan people still exist but is seems that they reside only in Sdnim now.
poem by Jeanne Harmon
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