Anna and the Green Jug
Any girl could seal his poems
with her lips; he would call a poem about her 'Anna
and the Green Jug' -
it's all in the motion, the flux:
her skin passed before him fluty-toned, coming out
and calling inertia to follow -
one and long,
water fell into her throat like a specially skilled diver
while nervously he poured
and swallowed the lyric.
poem by Margie Cronin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Trip Through Your Wires
In the distance
She saw me coming
I was calling out
I was calling out
Still shaking
Still in pain
Angel or devil
I was thirsty
And you wet my lips
You, Im waiting for you
You, you set my desire
I trip through your wires
I was broken, bent out of shape
I was naked in the clothes you made
My lips were dry, throat like rust
You gave me shelter
]from the heat and the dust
Theres no more water in the well
No more water in the well
Angel or devil
I was thirsty and you wet my lips
You, Im waiting for you
You, you set my desire
I trip through your wires
Thunder, thunder on the mountain
Theres a rain cloud in the desert sky
In the distance you saw me coming
I was calling out
I was calling out
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Water
water for water is water, thirst made me dried
eyes tears flow water, leaves skin broken
need water, cure my pain smooth my rough
surface makes it clean
pure and perfect water made so bright, all the
day expose heat dried my sweat, in my face
and lips tears seen in the eyes
all day long I seat in my brow, waiting the sun
down to lead me low, hunger and thirst open
my throat, water spelled drops like a dew
wash my warm body as you can see, the limps
legs and the hands would be easy, where ever
in my body, the water comes refreshing to me
slowly, slowly, fell the cool water beneath
my delicate skin, in my buttock where you have
to stay, hold on, I sit you in my dream, my living
water makes me the same
oh! water, please always watered me in each
new day and fell the real me
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There Was A Poem Long Ago
THERE WAS A POEM LONG AGO
There was a poem long ago
A poem of youth and hope
Now there are other poems
Poems of age and sorrow.
There was a poem once
Of love – and happiness in love
Now there is a poem of lovelessness
And sadness.
There was a poem once
Of the long and distant open road
Now there is a poem of the dead end.
There was a poem once
That believed in Poetry
Now there is a poem that knows
Even the most beautiful worlds of words
End in dust
There was a poem once – long ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shy
After a month of just bein alone he said, I wonder what l.a.s thinkin
Streets he roamed in search of a poem amongst the wild and drinkin
When he sees cool dark skin in hot virgin white
The search was over at least 4 2night
When she co-signed and then told him she was ...
Chorus:
Shy - cool dark skin in hot virgin white
Shy - lips say wont but her body say might
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
Oh baby (shy)
After a look much louder than words she said, I passed my initiation
A friend of mine, he got killed and in retaliation
I shot the boy (pop! pop!), huh, twice in the head
No regrets, no sorrow - Im goin back 2morrow 2 make sure hes dead
Cuz if I dont, theyll call me a chicken, but u can call me ...
Chorus
Shy
Shy - lips say no but the body say might
Looks like were gonna take the long way home..
Looks like were gonna take the long way home..
Looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
The girl was rough, but he called her bluff
And he told her not 2 know was better
Fact or fiction he wondered
And thats when the rain and thunder got wetter
And at the top of the page he wrote ...
Shy - cool dark skin in hot virgin white
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
Chorus
(oh, say it now, yeah)
(shy, shy!)
(shy)
Ooh baby, dont u wanna be alone 2night?
Shy - yeah (oh yes)
Shy (shy)
Shy - looks like were gonna take the long way home 2night
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Reading Out Loud
As I stood up in front of the crowd
They all sat still and silent
Their eyes and ears aimed like rifles on me
And I slowly read my poem aloud
My knees shook with every spoken lyric
My lips quivered as I couldn't stop
They listened intently, focused
As if my every word was the word of a mystic
Heavy emotions make me weightless
My eyes are shaking and my heart is too
My poem is almost finished
But the words aren't bitter and tasteless
I look at the crowd's emotionless faces as I finish reading
Their monotone lips curve upward as they clap
I walk off the stage nervously trying to maintain balance
And in my head the words of the poem repeat
poem by Christian Rivera
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Diver
The diver supremely inquired into speed,
One rocks faster than the diver himself.
A little planet erupts from the cosmos,
As the pledge has surpassed all quarrel.
The blamed matter argues further to enlighten
Those men and women of the diver's strength.
The dived one can ask the sea, and water in general -
Such questions are reasonable for the pleasure.
A little sea and a little ocean masters us well,
Then the divinity of water ensues,
You relax due to light and darkness
Of the very deep matters.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem For A Poem
She asks me
What is a poem?
Her shapely nose,
Her lips like two slices of water melon,
Her eyes reflecting clear blue sky,
Her thick hair like dark grey clouds,
Her horizon-like forehead
Are poems.
Frolicking of children,
Gossiping old women,
Cheering buddies gathered to spend an evening together,
Waiting travellers with carry-on bags in hand,
Strolling couples in a park, picnickers,
Are all features of a poem.
Lively sunlight warming the sanitorium stairs,
A nude poster,
A gypsy girl,
Are poems.
Ramble through a wonderland,
Laughter at an amusement park,
Still blue lake,
Scream of herons slipping on the rocks,
Thunder of a water fall,
Symphony of four seasons,
Song of pure rains,
Silent hunch of rainbow, arching over all,
Are poems.
Children of Bosnia
All are words of a poem.
Prior to gang rape
Women were preambles to poems,
Now they are complete poems.
Suppressed scream of a prisoner
In torture chamber
Is also a poem.
The blood ablaze
In the snow clad valley of Kashmir
Is fast becoming a poem.
Death of the starving in Somalia is a poem.
Coffin of the peace keeping soldier
Is a real-life poem.
She asks me, what is a poem?
Shall I tell her
That her poem inscribing fingers are too a poem
And her handwriting,
Her handsome portrait,
Her brown sandal
Even destiny under her feet
Are a poem.
She knows!
She is a poem to me clad in mauve.
Still she asks me
What is a poem?
(1992, Translated from Urdu by Samina Amjad, Translation reviewed by Lillian Thomas)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem That Comes From Hearing The Poem Of Another
The poem that comes from hearing the poem of another
And tries to ride on its rhythm
Like the sea on its own waves-
A forced music finding nowhere in itself a music of its own
Because all the poems are melodies made light by more light
As all the poems are dreams made dreamlike by more dreaming-
And we in our poetic fervor hearing that lyric sound
Go round and round again and again
As if we were the music of the stars
When the universe empirically spherical –
But now in this more deeply instrumented time,
When what we see with our eyes is always less than what we measure
Time and Time again tells us that Space and Space again tell us
That all we are in this long distance darkness
Is one small point of light which in its own sad way will fade out before its music endures-
For the stars have only our imagined music
and not more than the light
of their own violent dying –
So here having heard the poem of another
And open to my own inner voice,
I cry and cry again for another sky and another music
That only God Who is Beyond these earthly hapless sounds
Can Dream and Feel and Know
In the Lyric Ending that justifies our home.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Girl That Never Smiles
I know a girl, she never smiles,
Her lashes a-sparkling and cold.
I know a girl, she never frowns,
A green bird’s wing on her cheek.
I know a girl, she never laughs,
Flames dancing around her throat.
I know a girl, she never cries,
Her lips never move as she speaks.
I know a girl, she never sleeps,
She poses with dignified pride.
I know a girl, she never stirs,
Her stare shows no sign of remorse.
I know a girl, she never loves,
She knows better than to hide.
I know a girl, she’ll never fade,
I surrender to her silent force.
poem by Anthony J. O.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Four Women
Nina simone
My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is wooly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
Its been inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is aunt sarah
My name is aunt sarah
My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is siffronia
My name is siffronia
My skin is tan
My hairs alright, its fine
My hips invite you
And my lips are like wine
Whose little girl am i?
Well yours if you have some money to buy
What do they call me
My name is sweet thing
My name is sweet thing
My skin is brown
And my manner is tough
Ill kill the first mother I see
Cos my life has been too rough
Im awfully bitter these days
Because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My
Name
Is
Peaches
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
1: 55 A.m.
the cicadas still sing
that early
in this small town and
everyone is
in fact everything is
so quite that if you
are awake at this hour
unholy as they call it
(but so holy to me
i think)
i can still hear
the voice wanting
to be spoken
deep inside the
linings of my
esophagus
there is this mummy
of the sarcophagus
wanting to be
reborn
honestly the name
still slips
in my tongue
perhaps this could
be the poem
about cicadas
and their songs
or the sound of
quiet
the murmur
of peace
long gone
now
trembling at the
tip of my lips
who knows?
if at a little stare
on the wall
soon i shall understand
and decipher
what slime is there
that wants to speak
inside my
throat
but still wanting to
be swallowed
honestly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Evening Poem
AN EVENING POEM
An evening poem
Waits for deeper darkness
A night poem knows blackness
As home.
A morning poem is light
An afternoon poem is thick with heat.
All times have a poem
And all seasons poems also
All lives are poems
And all stories also.
We all are and all know poems
Poems pervade us
And the universe.
It is night now
But when the morning comes
Its poem will overshadow now.
What a brave new world it is
With so many poems in it
And what a life-
With such deep sadness
Waiting forever to be unexpressed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
- Human
Dont you leave me father time
Take me with you
Tell me does your sun still shine
Come squeeze the world and drip it down my throat...oh yeah
Down my throat again....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Touch me so I think Im here
Skin my senses
Barely breathing
Minus human
Please squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
Down my throat again.....woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for air
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for!
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There Is No Poem For Me Today
THERE IS NO POEM FOR ME TODAY
There is no poem for me today
There is no poem of yesterday
The poems have gone
And far away
There is no poem
For another day.
There never will be another poem
Poems are gone
Poems are stone.
All the words I will ever write
Are not enough
For a Poem of Life.
The Poems are not
They will never be
I am not a Poem
Nor Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Uncle's Shave.
Uncle’s Shave.
You used to watch Uncle
shave in front of the small mirror
propped on the edge
of the kitchen sink,
his face lathered
in white soap,
his cutthroat razor
held just a short distance
from his skin
by his right hand,
as the other hand
held the skin taut
in preparation
of the razor’s slide.
You stood behind
fascinated,
your young eyes
searching the mirror’s world
of Uncle’s face
and the performers start.
Uncle watched you
in the mirror,
his lips breaking
into a small smile,
the razor held
just above his ear,
his eyes staring above
the shaving foam,
taking in
your fascinated gaze,
the open mouth,
your hands copying
Uncle’s motion
in pretend shave.
Uncle drew the razor down
his cheek in slow motion,
the face becoming visible
as the soap gave way,
the hand dipping
the razor in water
to rid of foam,
to begin again,
more soap removed,
more skin revealed.
You copied Uncle,
but not so skilled.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inertia Creeps
3d
Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Interia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
In my home no chrome as clear as
See me now with my nearest dearest
Been there when Im over-careering
Room shifting is endearing
Between us is our kitchen
Where she finds my irritants itching
Been here before been here forever
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
She comes
There be no sound in my eiderdown
Awake I lie in the morning blue
Room is still my antenna in you
Nylon burns the bedspread with 2
Gravity zero see me stall
I bounce off the walls lose my footing and fall
It can be sweet though incomplete though
And the frames will freeze see me on all 4s
Its been a long time
She comes (x2)
Comes
I want to x you, she comes
I want to x you, she comes
I caught your radio waves
I caught your radio waves
With tin cans and string
Say you string me along
Say string me along
Say inertia creeps
Inertia creeps and she comes
Say she comes (x4)
song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A poem for you...
I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!