Homily
I'm feeling inspired to write something new
something so wonderous it takes me so few
to venture off into the land of beautiful discourse
only to be found again by the silence known as golden
To me this makes perfect sense
but to you maybe not rightfully so
simply because this limerick isn't about you
it really is not about me
but 'tis truly about homily
poem by Jessica Sanukab
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Poets Land
When I feel I need to write my spirit takes
wings at once and begins to fly
Throughout my veins I get inspired
Somehow I get the feeling like being in paradise
Words begin flying around just I try to
catch them they arise at once up
I feel my soul rose up to air near them
I start following them and I get more inspired
Music note symbols begin chasing each
other throughout my heart veins
Sometimes a soft melody takes my soul
to legendary worlds
Sometimes the sad voice of the lute that I
adore the most
Takes my soul with it flies to heavens
I desert the world while I get inspired
Butterflies fly inside my heart
I go to another world its not the eart
Another world It's called poets land
Poets land is filled with pure emotions and delicacy of feeling
Everywhere is colored white and surrounded with wonderful roses
Angels wear baby blue veils with smiling faces
Every while and while angels cradle by
The adorable violin music makes angels cry
Ah another world its another place
Nowhere to human greed nor for haters ugly race only pure emotions will forever revive there.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Places To Inspire
There are places in this world,
that when you are there inspire
you to do things
associated with that place.
Some are artistic and others of prayer.
I have been to both
and the validity of those words I can swear.
Once I went to Knock
the most holy place in Ireland.
A place where serenity
hangs over everything.
A feeling of something beautiful
comes over you.
That you never want to leave.
Another place is Stratford,
the birthplace of the bard.
Any would be poet,
can’t help to be inspired there.
It has to be something in the air.
Words just keep forming lines in your head,
and urge you to write them down.
Therefore, you feed your compulsion
and a new poem is found.
So if you are feeling,
the need to write, but can’t.
Go to Stratford on Avon,
and change the situation around.
You will find yourself inspired,
under the eyes of the bard,
when you follow the Shakespeare way.
2 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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It makes sense
When controversy surrounds
and things blow out of proportion
remember,
that tranquility still makes sense
When tension surrounds
and mind gets exhausted
remember,
that patience still makes sense
When mystery surrounds
and logic takes a backseat
remember,
that reality still makes sense
When laughter surrounds
and the vox gets too loud
remember,
that silence still makes sense
When darkness surrounds
and the heart gets out of rhythm
remember,
that hope still makes sense
poem by Deependra Kumar Jha
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On Being Told That There Is No Rhyme For The Word “Limerick”
After I heard Harry’s limerick,
I found that my mind set to simmer. “Rick, ”
I said to myself,
“One might write it itself, ”
But I answered, “You’re chances are slimmer, Rick! ”
So I can’t find a good rhyme for Limerick.
Told myself, “ You are just a beginner, Rick
And though there’s no reason
You can’t write something decent,
I fancy your chances get grimmer, Rick! ”
He said that it might rhyme with turmeric
But I thought, “You’re not that fast a learner, Rick:
Ditch your thoughts wasting time
Finding suitable rhyme;
Let your plans, man, stand on the back burner, Rick.”
But the cogwheels had started to turn a bit
As I guessed I had started to learn a bit
And I might find a line
That rhymes Limerick fine
And might win me a prize, so I earn a bit.
But I thought, “Though there was just a glimmer, Rick.
You will think till you’re needing a zimmer, Rick,
Since the muse isn’t kind,
I am sure you’ll will find
Not a word that will rhyme fine with Limerick.”
poem by C. Richard Miles
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Perfectly
When I say it doesn't matter
It matters most of all
You're not up for conversation
So I'm blinded by it all
The further away you push me
The closer I feel to you
Every fall every crash
Everything that was never meant to be
All the perfect little things I could release
All the nights every time we were just about to leave
Now it makes no sense to me
But it seems when we fall that's when we land perfectly
Can't see what's before me
Cannot feel the ground
This place that we exist in
Is the sweetest thing I found
The further away you push me
The closer I feel to you
Every fall every crash
Everything that was never meant to be
All the perfect little things I could release
All the nights every time we were just about to leave
Now it makes no sense to me
But it seems when we fall that's when we land perfectly
The further away you push me
The closer I feel to you
Every fall every crash
Everything that was never meant to be
All the perfect little things I could release
All the nights every time we were just about to leave
Now it makes no sense to me
But it seems when we fall that's when we land perfectly
Perfectly
Perfectly
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ahane's Own Mick Mackey
In his Limerick had a name to celebrate
Ahane's own Mick Mackey was a hurling great
Assured of his place in Hurling's Hall of Fame
In death as in life his a legendary name.
So many great hurlers the way of time have gone
But the legend of Mackey destined to live on
He is proclaimed to be the best of his time
And he must have been great when he was in his prime.
Mick Mackey the hurler broad shouldered and strong
The man who was honoured in story and song
He inspired Limerick to many a marvellous victory
And very few hurlers were as great as he.
He was never found wanting when put to the test
Ahane's own Mick Mackey he was Limerick's best
One of the famed Mackeys the legendary Mick
He weaved hurling magic with his caman stick.
Of his prowess of a great scoring forward he left none in doubt
And when hurling people talk of great hurlers his name is never left out
And though from the land of the living he may be long gone
As a hurling legend his name will live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Am Inspired, Are You?
inspiration is not desired
to be inspired
it is discovered
and authored
it is rewarded
and guarded
by the power to live
the hour to give
an inspired
soul a sense to express,
so, i am inspired
now,
are you?
if so,
spread your wings
and fly
within you,
reach out your hands
and touch the sky
(and beyond)
stay motivated
and inspired...
if not, ask why not yourself?
why not you inspired from yours' sense?
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Wondrous Stories
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wondrous Stories
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderous Stories
(anderson)
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderous Stories
(anderson)
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sans Inspiration
Tonight I’m inspired
By my lack of inspiration
I’m inspired to write
And defy this Mental constipation
Tonight I’ll write…
Simply out of spite
entirely, and completely
Without inspiration
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
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Poems
Homework is always boring for me,
Im sure most of you can see.
''Can you write onomatopoeia? ''
The sadness of Ethan,
The Geek of Argintena
Is that even onamatopoeia?
''Can you do a limerick? ''
The bang of the thunder,
The creek of the stair,
The ticking of the clock,
And the squeak of the chair.
Is That even a limerick?
I DON'T KNOW! ! ! .....
poem by Azeem AbdulRahim
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Perfect World
I never could have seen this far
I never could have seen this coming
It seems like my whole world is falling apart
Why is everything so hard?
I don't think that i can deal
With the things you said
It just wont go away
In a perfect world
This could never happen
In a perfect world
You'd still be here
And it makes no sense
I can just pick up the pieces
But to you this means nothing
Nothing at all
I used to think that i was strong
Until the day it all went wrong
I think i need a miracle to make it through
I wish that i could bring you back
I wish that i could turn back time
Cuz i can't let go
I just can't find my way
Without you I just can't find my way
In a perfect world
This could never happen
In a perfect world
You'd still be here
And it makes no sense
I can just pick up the pieces
But to you this means nothing
Nothing at all
I don't know what i should do now
I don't know where i should go
I'm still here waiting for you
I'm lost when your not around
I need to hold on to you
I just can't let you go
In a perfect world
This could never happen
In a perfect world
You'd still be here
And it makes no sense
I can just pick up the pieces
But to you this means nothing
Nothing at all
You feel nothing
Nothing at all
song performed by by Simple Plan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspiration..
Inspiration comes and goes.
I write it down or I’ll forget while searching for a pen.
Inspiration comes and goes.
I get is from dreams or experiences.
Inspiration comes and goes.
But tell me, what inspires you.
I’m inspired by beauty, love and lust.
Giving me words and thought I dare to trust.
It’s inspiration that separates me from the rest.
‘Cause when inspiration comes words fall into place.
And things are beginning to make sense.
Sometimes I’m inspired by sorrow.
When I’m waiting in my bed for tomorrow.
And words start to become sentences.
I will start to write just to understand.
And to make me feel better so I can go to bed again.
Sometimes I write because of a pain that runs so deep.
I write cryptic lyrics about the secrets I keep.
I express them in other words so no one will understand.
But they feel not knowing what I’m trying to tell.
It’s a just way to clear my conscience.
Sometimes I write how the world could be.
Or I write about the girl of my fantasy.
Then I’m inspired by a fragment of my imagination.
And now I told a few ways where I get my inspiration.
So now tell me what inspires you.
poem by Rick Adriolo
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Beauty of Silence Reminds Me of You
It's silence,
I can let my thoughts free,
I can listen the flow of water, the leaves rustling, the breeze,
I can think of nice moments that we lived, you and me.
Silence is wrapping me,
I'm seeing your footprints in the sand as you go,
Washed away by the sea in its torment,
As the beautiful moments that we had and we have lost.
Silence is beautiful, makes time to stop,
Makes us relive those throbbing moments,
That we shared once,
That we'll never forget.
I adore silence,
Beauty of silence reminds me of you,
I thought of you in my silence,
Did you ever thought of me, my love?
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Anxiety
Silence is golden.
It brings sweet peace.
Noise is raucous.
It makes peace cease.
Morning is golden.
It brings sweet light.
Nighttime is darkened
for the light takes flight.
It travels for others'
eyes to see
and the peace and light
are too far from me.
But it will return
and so will peace.
And silence that's golden
will always release anxiety
poem by Edwina Reizer
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How Beautiful Is It
Pilling up the positive thoughts,
Wishing time could depart us,
How beautiful are your hands,
Fashioning a fish pond with your peers,
Holding your niece so dearly,
Awaiting to hug cousin,
How beautiful are your hands,
As beautiful as they may be,
They will never hold me
Your eyes looked beyond me,
Sensible but not even capable,
How beautiful are your eyes,
Looking at the smoke and clouds,
In desolate lands with voidness,
Where wealth is found under sand,
How far can your eyes see,
As clear and vivid your vision may be,
You may never see me in your sight
Being simple and full of humility,
How far can you act my friend,
The words are hidden and rare,
Difficult to choose and express,
Yet the feeling so easy to encounter
How beautiful are you feelings,
As beautiful and humble as they may be,
You might never feel for me
The movement of the stars and moon,
The dreams you dream my dear,
The hopes, thoughts and visions,
Being there is actually being absent,
How beautiful are your dreams,
Do you dream of me like I do,
How wonderful are you visions,
As wonderful and beautiful they may,
I might never be in them
Me and you, perfect match,
The fairytales so continous and perfect,
The feeling so strong and ever coming,
How beautiful is us,
As beautiful as we may be,
There can never be us.
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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