Stimulate
(an acrostic)
Sanity awaits those minds that
travel to regions uncharted vast
imagining images inking pages
mysterious and mystical all
until visions release their reason
like books with words finally there
All’s needed is a dreamers mind
to taste the hidden worlds and
enjoy the sanity feast. Welcome
Related quotes
O Sanity
Mm, dum, doo, dum,
Mm, dum, doo, da-da, dum.
Its only sane to be insane,
Psychotic builds a castle and neurotic lives in it.
I dont know what to do with my sanity
When the worlds at a verge of calamity.
O sanity, o sanity,
What am I to do with you?
Drink up, shoot up, anything you please
But shes always standing behind me like a devil in hell.
O sanity, o sanity,
Why dont you let me go?
Let go, let go,
Cut it out!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
O Sanity
Its only sane to be insane
Psychotic builds a castle
And neurotic lives in it
I dont know what to do with my sanity
When the worlds at the verge of calamity
O sanity, o sanity
What am I to do with you
Drink up, shoot up, anything you please
But youre always standing behind me like a devil in hell
O sanity, o sanity
Why dont you let me go
Let go, let go, cut it out!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
O Sanity
Mm, dum, doo, dum,
Mm, dum, doo, da-da, dum.
Its only sane to be insane,
Psychotic builds a castle and neurotic lives in it.
I dont know what to do with my sanity
When the worlds at a verge of calamity.
O sanity, o sanity,
What am I to do with you?
Drink up, shoot up, anything you please
But shes always standing behind me like a devil in hell.
O sanity, o sanity,
Why dont you let me go?
Let go, let go,
Cut it out!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sanity Oh Sanity!
Sanity oh sanity at times you hide so well.
Without your ever presence it’s a living hell.
Each day each I meet poses a painful crisis.
Without you they’re left to their own devises.
I try to trust only myself so I can’t be hurt.
With watchful eye I attempt to always be alert.
Health, wealth and youth have all taken leave.
I need you now more than I could ever believe.
Sanity oh sanity you’re my driving force…
Without you at my side I have no recourse.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Temporary Sanity
I had such great expectations
Of the worlds benevolence
Of benevolence
But I prefer hallucinations
cause they tend to make more sense
Than experience
cause it was just another sneak attack
Of temporary sanity
It was a pleasant stay, but now Im back
From temporary sanity
My temporary sanity
I began to grow dependent
On a thing called common sense
It was common sense
But my world grew so resplendent
That the strain was too intense
Without self-defense
cause it was just another sneak attack
Of temporary sanity
It was a pleasant stay, but now Im back
From temporary sanity
My temporary sanity
The pool spreads across the pavement
Where the sniper made him lie
And he looks just like my youngest
And Im watching him die
I must remind myself Ive seen this
Its all ancient history
One long trail of twisted bodies
As the strong crush the weak
We must be crazy
We are crazy
This is our natural state
As our children die around us
We just sit here and wait
For a little temporary sanity
Some temporary sanity
Theres a chance that we would still get the picture
If reality just came up and bit ya
But the news team would never report it
Because theres too much evidence to support it
If we were stupider, the problem would vanish
But our brains are much more than we can manage
We say we want something so bad we can taste it
But once we get it, then we turn round and waste it
We got a twisted fixation with marketplace
And every suffering soul is just another face
We think were being manipulated from outer space
Its the collective guilty conscience of the human race
We get joyful when we look upon a lesser man
A specimen that we can be sure that we are better than
There is no shortage of supply of pride and vanity
There is no other explanation but insanity
Youre listening to prozac
While the message goes unheard
Its the final word
We must be crazy
We must be crazy
Theres no explanation
So we must be crazy
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If You Say I Am Imagining What I See
If you say I am imagining what I see,
In 'my' world.
Why is it your eyes fill with tears...
And not with stars,
Complimenting the warmth of your smile.
If you say I am imagining what I see!
And I wonder...
Could such images of you,
Standing in my view in clouded darkness...
Ever become more,
Than recurring visions of storms!
Where is the light,
That should be shining on this!
What is that which blocks my view?
What is that which smothers the beauty?
If you say I am imagining what I see...
I can tell you right now,
Which 'image' I wish and which one you are not!
If that doesn't increase your anger.
Since I have no problem removing my 'visions'.
And leaving you with all of your reality!
You wouldn't get a raised eyebrow from me,
On that one at all.
Go ahead!
You provide the clarity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Diary Of a Madman
What could it mean.
Living beyond shame and fear of the unknown.
Insanity is incredible
And sanity is unstable
The diary of the insane is history.
And memory is long lost in the desert
Of the heart.
To an insane,
Sanity is insanity
And insanity is sanity.
The soul of an insane has gone far beyond earth.
But the sane is oblivious
Of the fate of his own soul
After the final call.
Above all,
Is sanity sane?
No. For bad temperament is
Madness in itself.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Distinct Work
Never be hard at distinct work,
For you delve into the nightmares;
Open the work of the words you write,
Closing the pages as you send letters.
The better writer forces his mind
To act in a strange way, almighty at last.
The work carries on working like words,
Worlds of pictures design our images so late.
May the weight of the pages abhor the life
To come. It defines us as we write on the shelf.
Opening words of slaughter is like being drunk,
Heavy business is about, with clarity.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vanity
Some call it vanity
I call it complete sanity
I belong to a different league
A goddess with a cocktail of different wigs
Far too intelligent for any audience
To mass entertain will be an utter nuisance
I'm too intelligent to respond
It’s only with a certain class that I bond
For I am far too glamorous
To be anything but humorous
I belong to a group called animosity
A simple case of personal philosophy
Where I outclass modernity
My body built to perfection
I know it is the universal intention
Some call it vanity
I call it complete sanity
I am so artistically brainy
That my thoughts are far from grainy
I belong to a different breed
I simply will not spoon-feed
If you are born empty inside
I’m afraid I can’t take you for a ride
They refer to my vanity as a beast
I stare at my vanity with sanity as a feast
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fake Makers
There are some of us who have a right to be outrageous!
And completely crazed by lives lived chasing materialistic dreams.
Trying to express a happiness by the acquisition of things...
Brings heartbreak and remorse.
And of course...
A dose of suffering.
Then someone comes along whistling and singing a happy song.
Someone who could have been suppressed but isn't!
Someone who tells the truth and isn't fazed at all by the telling of it.
Someone whose eyes dance and sparkle with sanity.
'SANITY? '
Yep!
And no one has ever seen anyone like him before.
No one ever dreamed or could expect.
'Just words!
And the use of them,
Can eliminate your burdens...
And stop them from riding on your back again!
'Just words' he says.'
Pumping the idea of change into our heads.
Raising minds to a higher consciousness instead.
Beyond racist divisions and those committed to deceit!
Those who kept us with beliefs...
We need to remain,
Living lives self destructing on urban streets!
'Just words', He says. 'Just words! ', He repeats.
And what an economic mistake that has been!
Not to mention the stress on a mindset oppressed...
By the fake makers who say they protect the American Dream.
With 'words' it seems.
While poisoning all the slices of grandma's apple pie.
And exposing fresh schemes to keep everyone optimistic.
And with each piece of decadence served...
There are those first tempted to taste to ease the tease.
Believing this they deserve.
However...
It is recommended one 'sees' it for what it is!
But it is suggested one is better off,
If what is seen is left alone for something genuine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pages Of My Mind
Faces from my past flicker
through the pages of my mind
along with shadowy figures
I wish I had left behind.
Old loves and new loves
smile and say hello as they pass
through the pages of my mind.
They come in quiet moments
when I am at peace with the world.
Reflecting images of times left behind.
There are no future images,
as those pages haven’t been written yet,
only ones from a distant past.
They stroll across with happy moments
written on the pages of my mind.
11 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Book
It was late in the autumn of 2210
The shuttle had gone off to Mars,
The highways of Asia were solidly blocked
With a billion Chinese cars,
I'd wandered around the Museum of Trees,
The Fruit Section opened my eyes,
The bitterness taste of electronic apples
So cleverly changed, and disguised.
I seemed to be wandering round on my own,
Museums were on their way out,
The Virtual Channels were simple to screen
And more easy to access, no doubt.
The ancient attendant had followed me round,
He warily started to say:
‘I have something hidden, way out in the back
If you're interested, come out this way! '
He led to a room that was dingy and dark,
Went over and pulled up the blind,
The place was so dirty, with cobwebs and dust,
‘Not used much; I hope you don't mind! '
And there on the table he pointed it out,
A thick slab of something - I looked,
‘You'll not see another of these in your life,
‘What is it? ' I said. ‘It's a book! '
He lifted the thick leather cover for me,
To show what he called was a page,
‘The government banned them in '73,
They said they caused people to rage.
We're not used to words on a scale such as this…'
There were words and more words, like a plague,
They dazzled my vision, I staggered a bit
Like a man who is struck with an ague.
He turned other pages, a hundred of them,
A thousand, I just couldn't count,
And every one teeming with words on each page
So the figures continued to mount.
‘We're used to see just fifteen words in a line,
We twitter and tweet all the time,
How could a person sit down with a book
With all that! - without blowing his mind? '
‘It's called ‘General Knowledge', the old man replied,
‘Not something you hear every day,
And fabulous stories and verses in rhyme,
And the glory of history's sway.
There once was a time, there were millions of these,
Each home had a shelf full of books,
But once our technology grabbed at our minds
We were lost, we were pretty well hooked! '
‘The government knew it was dumbing us down,
You can't fight what you'll never know,
By banning the books and the Libraries
Our minds were beginning to slow.'
I left there quite thoughtful, I needed to write
How misled we had been, and were blind,
I started with paper, a pen and some ink
And believe it! - I wrote it in rhyme!
poem by David Lewis Paget (3 September 2012)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just When The Rain Stops
just when the rain stops
something within you stops too
the misery of being
confined in the small prison of
your thoughts
you find a window
and this wide door and you grope
for the key
to open something closed
days ago
you breathe the sea breeze
and take some salt of
life and you
release your sighs like
an earned ire
you take freedom finally
letting go your fingers and hands
your feet dance
go, go, go
your books on the table make the
cheering squad
out there
nature wants to be read
the books close finally
their pages like tongues
hide behind the thick glossy
hardbound cover
you are not a fool finally
touching the maps drawn
by the falling rain
welcome to the world
the trees tell you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Second Hand Books
Books! Books! Books! There are so many different designs.
There are some which, by the author, are personally signed.
Some books have pages with gilt edges, which look all posh.
Some have nice pictures on their covers, which are embossed.
Some books have hard covers, while some have soft.
Some are all dusty, where they’ve been kept in the loft.
Some books have fancy covers; some just have plain.
Some have suffered mishaps, and are now all stained.
Some books are all dog-eared at the corners of their pages.
Some have gone yellow, where they’ve been around ages.
Inside some books, there can be seen a pencilled name;
Someone, who once, on this particular book, had a claim.
Some are obviously well read; their spines are all creased.
From out of a book, amazing adventures can be unleashed.
Some books have pages which are spoiled or a bit torn.
Some have covers which are grubby and look well worn.
Some just have text, while others also include illustrations.
Some are former prize winners; once the toast of the nation.
There are books by famous authors, as well as the lesser known.
Some are former library books which, to the public, were loaned.
There are romances, poetry, classics, sci-fi, humour, and histories;
Gardening, cookery, travel, thrillers, manga, and murder mysteries.
In wooden bookcases, the books are categorised, and are neatly lined.
In a second hand bookshop, you just never know what you may find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Are you so unobservant that you do not yet realize that sanity and hapiness are an impossible combination?
Mark Twain in The Mysterious Stranger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Birthday Letter for Lucinda
Let this, your eighteenth birthday, offer you
Unique joy, and understanding’s light,
Cha[lle) nging uncertainties you might
In future face tomorrow with steps true.
New horizons open up, and through
Determination, courage, sage insight, -
All needed if you wish to win the fight
Life weighs against us joy may come. Thus to
Unknown regions venture. Much to do.
Completion still awaits, true wings for flight.
In life stay true to tenets you feel right,
Never betraying principles, virtue.
Decide to use your mind and you will find
A new world welcome, - work up from behind...
© Jonathan Robin – acrostic sonnet robi3_0593_robi3_0000 LUCINDA written 5 August 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Those' Images Made
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made.
People love to treasure those images made.
The ones flowered to sugar without a bitter taste.
Those images glammed up to spotlight,
On a public stage.
But behind the scenes indignities can be mean.
Yet...
People love to treasure those images made.
And their minds are affixed to them to defend...
Every blemish that is openly seen.
Since people who love their images made...
Have not been conditioned on reality to feast.
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made,
With an excusing of detrimental flaws and pain shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
These Roads
Walking thru these streets
meeting crossroads of hope and some of loss
will i take the right road
will i venture into the curves and bumps carved into the foundation formed from years of repetitive travel
I am not the only one who travels these roads
passing by with tears in their eyes are ones who travel with hope in their hearts to find that glimpse of happiness and sanity in for which they look
I must indure my sentance of weary travel
my friend we shall not travel this road alone
take my hand for we shall walk this road together till we reach the end.
poem by Amanda Testino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!