Call on these Words,
Call on these Words,
Call on these Words,
Not Either Violating my Instincts,
But the Flow's of Fowls will Emerge,
When my Movement is like Tiger's Medicine, ,
Hitting these Words that are from Tiger's Movement,
Creating a New Man from a Glimpse of Heaven's Touch and the Spiritual Significance hast no Mean's like Felonies.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
My Movement,
My Movement,
My Movement is like a Tiger,
It hast no spirit of crime and Felonies,
I never create spirits from my Movement.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beauty of my Instincts,
Beauty of my Instincts,
Beauty of my Instincts is like a Movement of a Tiger,
That we are on the Trodding of Great Growth from Tribulations,
Every plan that God hast for the Fourth Creature is more than a Kingdom.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tiger, Tiger
Tiger one to tiger two
Tiger one says I love you
Tiger two does not reply
So tiger one, he starts to cry
Tiger two says why you cry?
Tiger one says 'you did not reply'
Tiger two says I need not to
Tiger one says why?
Tiger two says i love you
Tiger one says i love you too
Tiger one says why oh why?
Why didnt you reply?
Tiger two says I love you
I don't have to say it
You know its true
Now you know the reason why
Tiger two did not reply
Tiger one realises why
Tiger two did not reply
So tiger one he starts to smile
And says tiger two is very fine
For tiger two is my dearest babe
Whome I think of everyday
And tiger two I cannot wait
To see your pretty face again
Tiger
Tiger with coat of dissimilar stripes,
When he’s angry, tiger swipes,
Tiger cautious, guarding his lair,
Danger lurking, tiger aware.
Tiger hungry so he hunts,
Facing quarry, tiger confronts.
Tiger waiting, being sly,
Undercover, no tiger espy.
Tiger detects, now he purrs,
Hunger pangs, tiger stirs.
Tiger quick, must now surprise,
Here we have one tiger, wise.
Tiger from his throat he roars,
Stretching out those tiger claws.
Tiger moving, stealthy pelt,
Expiration, by tiger dealt.
Tiger now with belly filled,
Anger passed, one tiger stilled.
Tiger sleeping, with the Pride,
Craving gone, tiger satisfied.
Tiger such a majestic sight,
Near extinction, tiger fight.
Tiger beautiful and fine,
You’re such a leonine feline.
Tiger we must have respect, ,
For your great tiger intellect.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Of Tigers And Rivers
you speak of tigers
and you define it not of its colors or shape or form
but of its shadow
this tiger that lies soundlessly between the
wedges of words
inside the indolence of some syllables
at first i am confused
that this tiger may come to form with sharp
razor teeth and then with new feet jump before me
to devour me
but you assured me, diligently in all the books of your
library, filled with dusts and silence, that this will never happen,
i waited for quite long,
there is this sound of a burst of a gun,
some drops of blood dripping from the ceiling,
i am looking for the scene, the Act, and the characters,
of the play that you have not finished writing,
there is the endless space spreading before me
the rivers flow
from my mouth, and i am carried away, to your glimpse
of eternity.
i am afraid, that your tiger is dead.
i suspect, that the rivers too dried.
i hope for more words, i am tired
the same thing happens in the history of men
promises are made to be broken
tigers are shadowy beasts that exist only in the minds
and rivers seemingly flow like all tomorrows
eternal, they never stop
they never end. Like air.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tiger in the wood
There is a tiger in the woods
With such an attitude
There is a tiger in the woods
Do not stay out there in the nude
There is a tiger in the woods
Alternating between humble and rude
There is a tiger in the woods
Looking for its prey, so pray
Soon will be injurious what was once good
Ready and steady he sets about to slay
The brave who protrude along his way
There is a tiger in the wood
Thinking about you as food
A known serial killer
Seeking a bestial thriller
There is a tiger in the wood
Whose beautiful stripes, I conclude
Put you off guard. Understood?
Such display, I call the tiger’s interlude.
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Huntress
Oh the tantalizing tiger
You make me feel on fire
Why must you be so pretty and aloof
The huntress is just a big goof
The tiger is caught by another
Another, better suited I presume
To capture the tiger and keep as her own
And yet the huntress feels the tiger’s groan
How can it still be, that in the wild there could be
An attraction, to shoot down the prey
In mid-stride, the tiger taunts the huntress
The huntress stares yet shows not the emotion
The want, the craving of the tiger’s gaze
To catch a vibe would be all she would need
Yet, the huntress knows there will be defeat
The tigress triumphs and trumps them all
The heart of her tiger is stronger than the fall
It’s not for one to know nor assume
Yet obsession seems to loom
Like the freak, the huntress merely stumbles.
Falling and hitting hard she’s now humbled.
poem by Jessica Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mankind to justice,
Mankind to justice,
Mankind to justice will prevail,
The last man that hops will seek that little to the best,
Like this little earth hast no morals,
What is man's happiness?
Not that which we desire,
But that movement that will never lie and bring justice,
There is no good or evil,
There is the Heavenly Realm that will make man realise this beauty,
Thinking of my own picture there is that manna from Heaven,
I feel that I need this time that is my sign,
There is taste that is Beauty than morals could imagine,
Mankind that hast no felonies,
This is the Right Justice that will save Humanity from lies,
In all that is to be done under the sun,
No more barbarism in what we call intelligent,
Since LOVE is greater than Half missing,
We are on that journey called Blessed,
And there are those that worked efficiently to see that good prevailed on earth,
What is genius?
It is the idea that will save HUMAN HEARTS,
It is not a realism on crime and felonies.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
IT's THE GOLF BALL OR ME
TIGER TIGER IN THE WOODS
Hit the ball as U should
Ere the Golf Stick skidded
And U in the Woods ended
Tiger Tiger your fame spread far and wide
Many a wallop in joy you with your family cried
Alas your 'misses' your family dread
And many a tear dropp you dead
Tiger Tiger in the Woods the time has come
When Your Wife has given you ultimatum
It's either me or GOLF you choose
And mend your ways or both your loose
'On my terms' if U want the kids and me
Coz I love you so much honey
I am not to touch the GOLF BALL
NOT for LOVE or for MONEY....
TIGER TIGER IN THE WOODS.
poem by Intensive KS1
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tiger By The Tail
What a shock it was so surprising
You looked so small and frail
I didnt know what to do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
People said that you must be joking
You let emotions run away with you
I realized a little too late
I bit off more than I could chew
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
At times life can be so enlightening
But it can turn on you
Lately it gets so complicated i
I dont know what the tiger will do
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
Sometimes you grip it right
And sometimes you fail
I grabbed the tiger by the tail
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
That's It With That
I am not pretending anymore,
I do not care she pretends...
I am not there.
I'm not there to pretend anymore.
Nor do I care,
If she is or is not aware.
And in a pretension,
That is conspicuously ostentatious.
I am through with that kind of neglect,
Of my time...
Thrown away in a haste that's wasted.
'What do they call that?
When something said means the same thing?
You know...
Like two different words having similar meanings? '
Huh, what?
'Doesn't 'conspicuous' and 'ostentatious'
Mean the same thing?
Like 'vainglorious'? '
Look,
Either way...
I call it good riddance!
A 'c-ya' without looking back.
Regardless of what 'they' may call it.
When I'm done with it that's it with that!
I'm not seeking to reference my movement,
To definition.
I'm glad you are paying attention.
But from you,
Right now...
I am in need of some 'em-pa-thy'.
'How am I suppose to know that?
You're the one using all these big words.
Break it down.
Give me some 'com-u-nee-k-shun'
DIG? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dragon and the Tiger
Elusive and spiritual
the Dragon's dance a ritual
Strong and firm
the Tiger waits his turn
Both are majestic
in precence and style
One breath's fire
the other's wild
The Tiger leaps
while the Dragon sways
The Tiger claws
while the Dragon slays
But when fighting together
their energy flows
The colors, the magic
like a rainbow, they glow.
(Charlie Vergara/06.27.2009/1764)
poem by White Tiger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sudden Movement
The tiger's eye was on it fast!
A sudden movement seen!
Now on his feet, he stood at last,
His mind alert and keen...
His body leapt ten feet ahead
And landed with a crunch!
Of course, the reason that he sped
Was what he hoped was lunch!
The creature that he tracked was close,
Somewhere within the snow...
That's why he sniffed with downward nose
As low as he could go...
The creature stopped, no sound was heard...
A silence met his ears.
Then all at once, the creature stirred
And dashed to join his peers...
The tiger's eye was left and right
And saw the creature run
And all at once, the bird took flight...
And nothing could be done!
The tiger's sigh was long and drawn...
No lunch for him today!
When he laid down, he paused to yawn...
And there he chose to stay...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sudden Movement'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eye of the Tiger
Tiger, Tiger burning bright
hunts his prey by neon light
Real or bleached, you know the kind
big up front with a sweet behind..
Tiger, tiger, none too bright
Left his cell phone in plain sight
When Elin saw his contact list
She grabbed his driver in her fist.
Four hundred yards straight off the tee
Tiger drives that easily
But when his little wife went clubbing
His face and lawn both took a drubbing
Tiger Tiger burning bright
Doesn’t like the bright spotlight
Yet on his off days he’d resort
To pros who play a different sport
Tiger Tiger made a tape
of Tiger 'eagaling' his date
It came into the hands of 'Vivid'
If they release it he'll be Livid
Tiger, tiger lost Gillette
And Gatorade sent their regrets
Now he’s hawking Trojan’s Wares
and lady Clairol for Blonde hair.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A real poem
What is real poem?
Is it flow of words or natural theme?
Does it echo sound of water?
Does it have capacity to alter?
To reduce the agony and pain?
To give honest call to rain
Words to flow in the direction of sea
Mix with the splendid music of tree
No words of differing
No more suffering
Helping hand with some offering
Music to their help in altering
The complete scene in harmony
Bees to sit at once place with more honey
Peace and calm with flow of words
Is it not the message of lords?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It does not matter what men say in words, so long as their activities are controlled by settled instincts. The words may ultimately destroy the instincts. But until this has occurred, words do not count. - from Science and the Modern World
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cub to Rug
Ragging cub,
rugged tiger.
Tiger raging,
tiger ageing, -
trigger gauging.
Tiger rug,
Ragged rug.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Khrushchev reminds me of the tiger hunter who has picked a place on the wall to hang the tiger's skin long before he has caught the tiger. This tiger has other ideas.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Indian Sanctuary
The tiger rested in the sun
Without a single care...
Without the need to hunt or run,
This sense of peace was rare.
The tiger wasted none of this,
It just went with the flow...
Partaking of its share of bliss
And in its afterglow.
The afternoon was on its way,
No danger and no qualm.
No enemies to keep at bay,
No reason for alarm.
The tiger didn't understand
This sudden change of pace,
This Shangri-La, this Wonderland,
This blessing or this grace.
Why question what seemed meant to be?
Why fret when all goes well?
Be thankful for serenity,
Enjoy it for a spell.
The tiger's heart was tranquil, too.
Its rhythm matched the mood.
As if in safety in a zoo
Where Man provides the food.
You could call this a sanctuary,
A dream within a dream...
A pleasant place that's fancy free
Where nothing is extreme...
The tiger thought it Paradise
It knew it couldn't keep...
And so it simply closed its eyes,
Thanked God and went to sleep...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Sanctuary'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!