Living My Dreams With The Poets
I am living my dreams
With the poets of the city
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
In The City Of Poets,12/26/09
in the city
of poets
all men
are equals
and stride about
congratulating
one another
on their genius.
in the city
of poets
the statistics
of attentive readers
exceed
all expectations
and the bookstores
burst
like fat silos
with their harvest
of rhyme.
in the city
of poets
passports
to immortality
are issued
with abandon,
frontiers
evaporate,
and customs gates
are thrown open
by exuberant
and trusting
guards.
The city of poets
is a classless
society
where no one
dares admit
the existence
of aristocrats
or kings
and everyone
shamelessly
lays claim
to successful
expression.
In the city of poets
bad verse
drives out good
or rather
drowns it
in a sea
of mediocrity,
a conspiracy
of equality,
a brotherhood
of banality,
and every man
is his own
best
bard.
poem by Percy Dovetonsils
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World Of Promises
They come from a land were the sun don't shine
running away from the cold
They travel so far in the name of love
hoping the dreams will come true
Walking the way through endless fields
trying to make it together
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And they will give anything
just to be free from the pain
and they won't surrender
Living in a world of promises
Living in a world of dreams and hopes
Living in a world of promises
Lost in the city wondering why
no one will open the door
It's more to the truth than meets the eye
something they all felt before
And they will give anything
just to stand tall once again
and they won't surrender
Living in a world of promises
Living in a world of dreams and hopes
Living in a world of promises
In the tan of the nigh can hear them crying
out for a life to hol on to
Somebody knows were the answers lying
wait for your trails and don't let go
Living in a world of promises
Living in a world of dreams and hopes
Living in a world of promises
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(V – 2010) The Poet’s Nature
Reflecting Nature’s various hues
Poets write colourfully.
Echoing Nature’s innate songs
Poets write musically.
Learning from Nature’s righteous laws
Poets write more sensibly.
Drawing from Nature’s spotless love
Poets write more humanely.
Living with Nature’s poetic life
Poets write living poetry.
We As Poets
We as poets must command a sacred accent over a language of our choice,
We as poets must gift the minds of a failing generation,
We as poets must demand a clear explanation and a fair occupation,
We as poets must dissolve into particles and dust if we have not known enough,
We as poets must destroy the living standards of low quality,
We are to be the poetry of utmost perception and suffering.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Somewhere In The City
Out on the ocean where the gold dusk turns to blue
I let go of my heart and all my dreams of you
I drown all the memories of crazy days and nights
Clinging to the shoreline holding on with all my might
I swore I wouldn't envy all the lovers who've got a hand to hold
And I'll stand with all the others now
The dreams are bought and sold
Where are you now as this day comes to an end?
Are you somewhere in the city?
Can I find you there again?
Where the sidewalk's hard and pretty and the neon plays all night
And the junkman sings his pity and the poets love the fight
Somewhere in the city
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.
quote by James Broughton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Planet Of Dreams
Nothing on smoke today
Nothing dies on the wing
Wings been losing time
An anarchy born in pain
Pain that comes and goes
It goes against all you see
You see I got gables eyes
And eisenhower blames the poor
The poor huddled on the curb
Gotta get back in shape
Were backing up a major plan
Were treading on ? ? ? ? lights
Were walking under golden sun
Were living in a planet of dreams
Were living in a planet of dreams
Were living in a planet of dreams
Were living in a planet of dreams
Were living in a planet of dreams
Were living in a planet
(5 more times)
Do do do do
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London city you claims your right
London city you claims your right
The moving city, days and nights.
it seem no one can sit still
but some do settles
Shifting and moving one place to another
Amazingly there not many Londoner,
Living in London
Widely proclaims by foreign
from every corner earth
We not invading city,
cos this the only city in the world
You can claims your right
Whom you are
Living city of the United Nation
London
poem by See Fee Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tale of Three Cities
New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.
Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .
V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.
Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.
Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living For The City
(stevie wonder)
Producers for bonnie: david mackay, ronnie scott, steve wolfe
A boy is born in hardtime mississippi
Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong, movin in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the city, yeah
His father works some days for fourteen hours
And you can bet he barely makes a dollar
His mother goes to scrub the floors for many
And youd best believe she hardly gets a penny
Living just enough, just enough for the city
His sisters black, but she is sho nuff pretty
Her skirt is short, but lord her legs are sturdy
To walk to school, shes got to get up early
Her clothes are old, but never are they dirty
Living just enough, just enough for the city
Her brothers smart, hes got more sense than many
His patiences long, but soon he wont have any
To find a job is like a haystack needle, cause
Where he lives, they dont use coloured people
Living just enough, just enough for the city
Living just enough for the city
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living Bad Dreams
I'm hypnotised
and helpless
Beneath the pale
full moon
My body is your sacrifice
You spirit's coming soon
I stare up at a
squalid night
It's been so cold
and smooth
Turns tender kisses
into bites
As you begin to move
You look so weak
and fragile
You seem to drip
and sway
But you swept me up into
your arms
And carried me away
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
You led me to temptation
Delivered me to pain
I walked upon you
hallowed ground
My soul is yours to gain
Your passion drains
my energy
Fear starts running deep
I'm falling in
slow motion
Into eternal sleep
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
[Lead Break]
Your passion drains
my energy
Fear starts running deep
I'm falling in
slow motion
Into eternal sleep
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
I'm living bad dreams
ohh ohh
I don't want bad dreams
Living bad dreams
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poets
O ye dead Poets, who are living still
Immortal in your verse, though life be fled,
And ye, O living Poets, who are dead
Though ye are living, if neglect can kill,
Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill,
With drops of anguish falling fast and red
From the sharp crown of thorns upon your head
Ye were not glad your errand to fulfill?
Yes; for the gift and ministry of Song
Have something in them so divinely sweet,
It can assuage the bitterness of wrong;
Not in the clamour of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poets
O ye dead Poets, who are living still
Immortal in your verse, though life be fled,
And ye, O living Poets, who are dead
Though ye are living, if neglect can kill,
Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill,
With drops of anguish falling fast and red
From the sharp crown of thorns upon your head
Ye were not glad your errand to fulfill?
Yes; for the gift and ministry of Song
Have something in them so divinely sweet,
It can assuage the bitterness of wrong;
Not in the clamour of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living For The City
A boy is born in hard time mississippi
Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong moving in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the city...ee ha!
His father works some days for fourteen hours
And you can bet he barely makes a dollar
His mother goes to scrub the floors for many
And youd best believe she hardly gets a penny
Living just enough, just enough for the city... yeah!
His sisters black but she is shonuff pretty
Her skirt is short but lord her legs are sturdy
To walk to school shes got to get up early
Her clothes are old but never are they dirty
Living just enough, just enough for the city...um hum
Her brothers smart hes got more sense than many
His patiences long but soon he wont have any
To find a job is like a haystack needle
Cause where he lives they dont use colored people
Living just enough, just enough for the city...
Living just enough...
For the city... ooh, ooh
(repeat several times)
His hair is long, his feet are hard and gritty
He spends his life walking the streets of new york city
Hes almost dead from breathing in air pollution
He tried to vote but to him theres no solution
Living just enough, just enough for the city...
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
I hope you hear inside my voice of sorrow
And that it motivates you to make a better tomorrow
This place is cruel no where could be much colder
If we dont change the world will soon be over
Living just enough, stop giving just enough for the city!!!!
La, la, la, la, la, la,
Da ba da da da da da da
Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da da da da
(repeat to end)
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poets Expresion
People are for ever correcting
A poet's right to express
Those of us who use English
As a second language
At times do make mistakes
But a Poets Expression
Stamps a mark on your mind
To imagine and dream
About worlds of the unknown
You delve in their minds
And stir the images of life
And implant them your expressions
Your expressions on life
Poets are many with their
Own impressions on life
Give up to the poet's
And clap them with praise
So from this poet who dreams?
To be just like them
Wise and experienced
In sharing my dreams
Fare thee well good poets
Encore and good night
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fade Away
When I was young
I thought I had my own key
I knew exactly what I wanted to be
Now I'm sure
You've boarded up every door
Lived in a bubble
Days were never ending
Was not concerned
About what life was sending
Fantasy was real
Now I know much
About the way I feel
I'll paint you the picture
'Cause I don't think you live round here no more
I've never even seen
The key to the door
We only get what we will settle for
While we're living
The dreams we have as children
Fade away
While we're living
The dreams we have as children
Fade away
While we're living
The dreams we have as children
Fade away
While we're living
The dreams we have as children
Fade away
song performed by by Oasis from The Masterplan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.
quote by T.S. Eliot (1920)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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