Birth of Originality
Satin-like – her wing
Breaks out of her mother.
She begins to drink the sunlight
Like a bottle.
A bottle of the mind.
But Destiny had jumped –
Died by way of his son –
The sensual evening before.
Before the birth.
The birth of Originality.
Destiny now stares through
Nothing in the
Silver soothing grave.
But in such a mind
Originality
May let her feminine growth be witnessed.
Witnessed like a marriage
Or not witnessed like an almost marriage.
With Imagination's shiny eye
Or story-showing mirror.
An eye
to camera-record the truth.
A mirror
To decorate it with Creativity's nurturing touch.
Related quotes
From the witness-box
…And having taken the oath
I
Do admit
I witnessed
Birth
And
Death
I
Do admit
I witnessed
How two can
Come together
And go their
Separate ways
I
Do admit
I witnessed
The hand of time
Behind
I
Do admit
I witnessed
How the invisible
Hand of time
Resolves
Dissolves
And
Dilutes
31aug2010
06.27hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What For Them Was Isn't
What for them was isn't.
Like the taste of a lollipop,
That has faded from one's memory.
The activity is remembered.
But the flavor of it is gone.
And many are trying to hold onto it.
With a savor craved...
That brings them to the edge,
Of a tantrum fit!
Since what sits in their minds from yesterday,
Hasn't for them really gone away.
They want it returned!
They want it to stay!
They feel betrayed by an enslavement made!
What for them 'was'
ISN'T anymore.
Or will be again.
For anyone else to be explored!
Those heard droaning in a whining moan...
Are lost and locked in a consciousness,
Soon to be all their own.
What for them was isn't.
It's never coming back!
That's a fact they wished attacked.
But from a clock that has stopped its tick tocking...
The hands on it sit!
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
No movement,
Is witnessed from this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ernest Hyde
My mind was a mirror:
It saw what it saw, it knew what it knew.
In youth my mind was just a mirror
In a rapidly flying car,
Which catches and loses bits of the landscape.
Then in time
Great scratches were made on the mirror,
Letting the outside world come in,
And letting my inner self look out.
For this is the birth of the soul in sorrow,
A birth with gains and losses.
The mind sees the world as a thing apart,
And the soul makes the world at one with itself.
A mirror scratched reflects no image—
And this is the silence of wisdom.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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At the Altar
Now to take away your life –
Devour your soul afresh upon
The birth of every dawning day
– The spawn of sun and earth –
As of the way Prometheus lost hepatic flesh –
He stole fire! You stole gropes
And f*cks of me; so suffer thee!
Oh yes, perspire! Drizzle down the beads
Upon that crimson, blotchy skin –
I see the once cocksure pose, my man,
Is wearing terribly thin.
Indeed, an absence of repose
Discloses thumping in your chest –
Irregularly rhythmic – like the humping
(When you thought I was a body to molest) .
No more! my little man, for I shall wrest
The living essence from your
Paling, quivering form! –
You’ve had your gentle calm
Before the rumblings of the storm!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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marriage marriage marriage marriage marriage
marriage marriage marriage marriage marriage
marriage marriage marriage marriage marriage
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eyewitness
Face cloth in one hand
and with the other
eyeliner goes to her
magical eyes.
In front of a mirror
she saw her facet
and the faceless.
It's a confusion
and an eye-opener.
She has witnessed
my soul in the mirror.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Eternal Marriage
This eternal marriage
It is one of force, of no choice
One of irresistible destiny
How can we get divorced forever?
This eternal marriage
One gets into long before birth
No escape route from it, no alternative
How can we get divorced forever?
This eternal marriage
Can never be denied, no fugitives
Unborn, born, young, old, man, woman
There is no selection when time comes
How can we get divorced forever?
This eternal marriage
The undeniable beckon of the husband
During the day, the night, at any time
Medical technologies notwithstanding
How can we get divorced forever?
This eternal marriage
It is indeed the mother of all sufferings
The river of tears never run dry
The broken hearts never get mended
The gaps of those called are never refilled
How can we get divorced from this cruel marriage?
Dedication: To Julia Tivane Holm, friend and colleague
Nampula, Mozambique
3rd June,2000
poem by Isaac Maliya
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Pierces Third Eye In Beams Of Light
inspiration of an inspired moment
counted in sunlight grains of sand
inspiration in split instant moment
pierces third eye in beams of light
pierces blue sky in genius of ages
shines on set sun dial of creativity
butterfly metamorphosis a nativity
starlight birth witnessed by angels
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Mirror Struggled
The mirror struggled; reflecting beauty such as hers
Prescribed a glory in the challenge – a fairytale
Or such as like! To shimmer back hypnotic hues
From auras of her skin – how do mirrors cope?
Hoary tales of pretty adolescent buds
Could never hope to match the tomes of dreamy
Pulchritude apprising us of such a belle as she.
The mirror shone; and as it worked itself, a moment –
Did it overlook the hidden melancholy?
Were melting eyes bedewed–? Florid lips imbued
With mournfulness? The hindrance of the silver glass!
Oh! to seek – to know the meaning of the sorrow!
She (with tearful hair, an image out of heaven)
Never opened up her heart. The mirror struggled.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
m irror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Originality (Cinquain)
Mind fruits
Flow with sweet juice
No plastic copy matched-
Ripe ideas will ink the pen
With truth.
................... ................................................. ..................
'Originality is the mother of creativity.'
July 7,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Born On Earth
How many have you given birth,
Mother earth, Mother earth?
Bore them here to drink your rain,
bore them here to feel your pain?
You cannot count them though you try,
not until you feel them die.
One by one they came to you
and one by one they left your view.
They plowed your fields and reaped your seed
and ate of you to fill their need.
Some were kind and pure of heart,
some foolhardy from the start.
How many came and breathed your air
and offered thanks and gave you prayer?
Did you keep a record of each brave soul
or just use yourself to cover the hole
that waits and observes their destiny
and accepts their bodies with sympathy?
How many more will you give birth
to stake their claim upon your earth?
Too many, too many I'm afraid
and for most a terrible price will be paid.
How many have you given birth
Mother earth, Mother earth?
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look In The Mirror
I look in the mirror
And what do I see
A reflection of someone else
Staring out at me
I see someone I used to know
Someone who used to be me
As I look in the mirror
That’s what I see
One drink led to another
A drunkard I became
Now my poor family
Are looked on with shame
Empty bottles fill every corner
Money I have none
My wife and children go hungry
As I crawl around the floor
As the days grew longer
The worse I became
Bottle followed bottle
Perfecting my shame
I yelled and I shouted
Strange things did I see
But none were more stranger
Than a reflection of me
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dimensions Blending
Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.
Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.
And witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Dimensions blending.
With an ending of those limits,
Once defended.
Now seen suspended.
Limits departing.
Limits departing...
As dimensions once unmentioned,
Drop those chins!
And witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
Limits departing...
As dimensions once unmentioned,
Drop those chins!
Dimensions blending.
With a mind bending intending,
New beginnings.
And witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Limits departing.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Dimensions blending.
And,
Witnessed are dimensions blending in!
Dimensions blending!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life And Those Who Live It
What you tell others you do for me,
And how you regard my presence in your life...
Are just mere words you use to entertain their attention.
What you say to others is not what I've witnessed.
I've witnessed you using my abilities to call them your own.
I've witnessed you lieing to defend your inappropriate activities,
Because you lack backbone to stand on your own two feet.
And I've been victimized by you several times,
And this I have condoned but to you it has gone unknown.
The only fool you have taken me for and believe I am,
Is the fool who acknowledges...
The you I should have left alone,
A long time ago!
The only thing you can accuse me of doing,
Is being overly patient...
With someone who has manage to take,
Life and those who live it...
Totally for granted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Face With No Future
I look in the mirror,
and what do I see?
A face with no future,
stares out at me.
On the table, a glass and a bottle,
of my favourite poison.
When I was young,
I drank to be alive.
Now all I do,
is drink to survive.
My eyes bloodshot,
filled with vacant stare.
My face goes unshaven,
but what do I care?
My bottle is now empty,
quickly replace with one full.
Soon it will be empty,
just like this fool.
Family and friends fled.
My eyes were blind.
All they could see,
was another drink,
in front of me.
My legs get unsteady.
I stagger instead of walk.
A bottle wrapped in paper,
gripped tightly by my hand.
My clothes grow dirty,
as days and nights combine.
A smile is frozen,
on this face of mine.
My arm flex out,
when I stumble to the ground.
Faces look down at me,
expressions display my waste.
I just hold my smile,
as I lay there in their midst.
At least my bottle,
didn’t break,
on my fall from grace.
Time for another drink,
raise bottle to my lips.
Liquid trickles down my throat,
and still my smile remains,
as silly as it can be.
The faces disappear.
Everyone has gone now.
Like family and friends,
they all desert.
I lay there on my own.
For no one wants to take,
a drunk home.
25 Jan 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be true to yourself
Keep doing good things
Even if it is not witnessed.
Avoid doing bad things
Because it is not witnessed.
You must be true to yourself.
Rather than to be to others.
07.01.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drown My Sorrows
I’m sitting alone in the Blue Parrot Bar,
my world has fallen apart.
The woman I love has said goodbye
there’s no love for me in her heart.
We once said we were made for each other
and I believed it with all of my heart.
I’m taking my first drink from this bottle;
after a few the forgetting should start.
We used to get on so well together,
we shared every minute of the day.
I’ll take another drink from this bottle
now that she’s cast my love away.
I just can’t stop thinking about her,
nothing will ever be the same.
I’ll take another drink from this bottle,
maybe it’ll help to numb the pain.
When I reach the bottom of this bottle
her memory should have gone,
so I’ll finish what’s left in the bottle.
My mistake, it’s going to take more than one.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thank, She Isn't There
My mother should have lived, I wished
She’d have witnessed my son’s wedding
And his three children in their growth
Thanks God, she’s not there to see my wife’s tragedy
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirror Mirror
Mirror mirror
You tell lies
Who put crows feet
Round my eyes?
Mirror mirror
Hanging there
Who put that grey
In my hair?
Mirror mirror
Is that me
Is that really
Me I see?
Mirror Mirror
Stop your fun
That's not me
That is my mum
Mirror mirror
Don't stare back
For it's bad luck
If you should crack
Mirror mirror
On days like these
When what I see
Doesn't please
Mirror mirror
My mood this day
Will ask you turn
The other way!
poem by Stevie Taite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Marriage
Pessimistic views: :
Marriage is a gamble!
Marriage is a punishment;
Marriage is an evil that
Most can’t but accept.
Optimistic views:
Marriage is a gift of God;
Marriage is a blessing;
Marriage is an enjoyment,
We make the best of it.
Truths:
Marriage is so wonderful;
Marriage is so fulfilling;
Marriage is so wholesome;
Marriage is an endless love,
More priceless than all wealth!
Marriage is a way of life;
Marriage is so natural;
Marriage is the better way,
For two, to reach Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-7-2006
poem by John Celes
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A Bitter Coffee... A Sweet Coffee
The age is running and I am still drinking my bitter coffee,
To when the story of this coffee belongs? !
Coffee and chocolate are so deferent in their tastes
But in several times
It happens that they have the same color.
It seems that the similarity of them is the same of features of the fortune reader.
When she gazes the cup of the coffee
But I am not so familiar with chocolate
Even I am not familiar with the talisman countenances of the hex.
I remember that once I asked him to give me a bitter coffee
Yet he has made a permanent bitter one
Each time he brings me the same coffee in the same cup
A question c0mes to my mind and I ask it to myself:
If we do not like the coffee, why we do drink it?
Do you think it is our destiny as my birth story?
I was born without my desire
Thus with each sip of the coffee
The destiny stops me not to tear the chocolate cover
to sweeten my coffee.
poem by Chnar Namq
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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