The Deviant Writer
I was born a metaphor,
Whose life is a strange poem,
Difficult and confusing.
I see things in a deep twist,
Where simple things is complex
In an easy kind of way.
I think a lot as I speak,
I imagine as I think,
And I dream imagining.
Some thinks I’m weird and crazy,
Someone who does not belong,
Someone who is different.
Many criticize my works,
Seeing only their eye’s side,
Discerning, stereotyping.
Nevertheless I don’t care,
Because I know who I am,
Unlike any other men.
I’m not a rebel you see,
I’m just a normal person
That is basically deviant.
March 13,2009
poem by James Callos Jordan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Easy and Difficult
Easy and Difficult
Easy to get a place in someone’s address book
Difficult is to get a place in someone’s heart
Easy is to judge the mistakes of others
Difficult is to recognize our own mistakes
Easy is to talk without thinking
Difficult is to control the tongue
Easy is to hurt someone who loves us
Difficult is to heal the wound
Easy is to forgive others
Difficult is to ask for forgiveness
Easy is to set rules
Difficult is to follow them
Easy is to dream every night
Difficult is to fight for a dream
Easy is to show victory
Difficult is to accommodate defeat with dignity
Easy is to admire a full moon
Difficult is to see the other side
Easy is to stumble on a stone
Difficult is to get up
Easy is to enjoy life every day
Difficult is to give its real value
Easy is to pray every night
Difficult is to find God in small things
Easy is to promise something to someone
Difficult is to fulfill the promise
Easy is to say we love
Difficult is to show it every day
Easy is to criticize others
Difficult is to improve oneself
Easy is to make mistakes
Difficult is to learn from them
Easy is to weep for lost love
Difficult is to take care of it so as not to lose it
Easy is to think about improving
Difficult is to stop thinking and putting it into action
Easy is to think bad of others
Difficult is to give them the benefit of doubt
Easy is to receive
Difficult is to give
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A Crazy Dream
Is it crazy
as a fantasy
To have you leave your job
and family
and leave it all behind
and run to me
Is it crazy
to suddenly dream
without a thought as to why
to imagine happiness
holding hands with you
as we look upon the sky
Is it crazy
to imagine buying an old inn
no matter what shape its in
Somewhere in the mountains of New England
To fix it up as neat as a pin
As a bed and breakfast and let boaders in
Is it crazy
to imagine sitting with you
to lovingly care as I brush your soft hair
To feel blessed that we are together there
in an pastoral life, without worry or care
Just to love you and have you there so we could share
It may be crazy
I don't know why I had this little crazy dream
I never had before, though unusual it may seem
maybe I can wish it on tonights moonbeams
When I dare to think upon it, it somehow gistens and gleams
Such crazy wonderful things are sometimes dreams
Maybe when you look up at the sky tonight
if you feel lonely and feel some emptiness or fright
If you wonder if you have a place you might belong
I may be thinking of you, not aware of right or wrong
From far away, sometimes your gentle care is still felt strong
Imagine being the very words to a lonely heart's love song
I guess I'm been searching in my head
Thinking of all the love poems I've written or read
And along came this crazy dream
Everything was plush and green
and you were my affectionate and loving Queen
And like the stories I read....I carried you to bed
Sometimes its crazy what we dream and think
Even moreso when we put it to ink
I hope you think it not to crazy
and greet it with a knowing wink
Because many a good thing in life that's ever come, it seems
Started first somewhere in gentle dreams
I just can't say who I'm thinking of
I'm not given to forcefulness or push and shove
It's just this; you seem somehow to fit like a calfskin glove
and it seems what we have found could grow into love
If so, we'll know greater joy and grace by God above
Perhaps one day we'll awaken to sparkling dawn by morning dove
wrapped up in the lasting beauty of true love
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Special
I been trying for so long
To get you where I stand
Feel like I been climbing all my life
Everybody told me
I'd never ever get this far
I know I can make it if I try
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
(come to you, you too, to you, do to, be do, you)
Special things come to you
There's no sense in trying to fight it
When I want something so bad
No, it's not as easy as it seems
Simple things are the hardest
Of the things we do for love
And I won't give up cause I'm not just what it means
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you
(come to you, doo doo doo, to you, doo doo doo)
Special things (doo, doo ahh, you doo)
Do do doo, on you, do do doo, to you
Do doo, ahh, do do doo, too
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. This is how the whole scheme of things works. All good things are difficult to achieve; and bad things are very easy to get.
My Mind Is Not A Complex Poem
MY MIND IS NOT A COMPLEX POEM
My mind is not a complex poem
That makes a metaphor of rhyme-
Or understands the simple beat,
Of an imperfect right offline.
My mind is old and wandering
And trusts itself to carry on.
The poem it comes to turns to stone
And weighs upon a soul unsung.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Popularity
I always say what I have to say
In a simple or paradox way...
I don't care about popularity or rate,
I say from my heart, what I have to say, anyway...
Some things are simple, some are complex,
But they are told, nevertheless...
Who care about his or her rate,
When your poem was really read....
Keep doing what your really doing, dear poet
The world is still there and really matters
True feelings are not easy to come by
To those creeps, say goodbye...
Your true feelings will always surface,
They are funny people who have not face,
Reality is only one for all
Now, you can see, popularity or rate,
Do not matter at all....
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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That's Just Who I Am
i'm a person that like things my way,
i never like to admit when i'm wrong,
i always think i can handle things,
people seem to like me,
because i keep it real,
i love to be stubborn,
but, show you care,
there will be another side you never see,
i don't be the follower,
because i'm the one who leads,
i'm unique and smart and crazy,
but, that's all okay,
that's just who i am.
i'm a person who learns the hard way,
i not ever going to be perfect,
so it's okay to have problems,
most of the times i have my weakness,
deep inside theirs a human bing,
just have to be nice,
and maybe you'll get in,
i don't trust easily,
because of everything i've been through,
but, that's just who i am.
5-3-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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Piet Mondrian
The lines produce
the simple things
the world
Its lines are not
delineating anything
known out
of the world
simple things
as if they had
not been before
the complex metaphor
for the encounters: trees,
houses, fields
connections, that have never
had a name.
poem by João Tomaz Parreira
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Do What I Like
Key:- r:- ray
A:- anita
R: come let me enter in your brain
You know how it goes no pain, no gain
Im a rough young brother, I care about another
I thank my life to my dad and my mother
Searching like a hunter, always into something
You wanna be down? first stop fronting
Please dont speak, pass me the mic
Cause no matter what you say Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
R: rumours and lies start from the mouth
People hear little things and they start to shout
You see me on t.v. or a magazine cover
Lose our bonus, move under cover
Living that kind of effect, Im in demanded
I do my thing when I on demanded
You dont even know how I live my life
Dont point your finger cause Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
Do do what you like
R: yeah!
Dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: come on!
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
This is my life! oh!
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Don't Belong Down Here
Sky rise so haunting on the other side of the street
Two thin white lines between where you are and where you should be
I know sometimes when you fly you think you're larger than life
But then you come crashing down and you're asleep on the ground
A king without his crown
Chorus:
You don't belong down here
You don't belong down here
You don't belong down here
Anymore, not ever
This park is an island in a sea of despair
In the heart of the city of angels who aren't even there
I see you praying for hope while you keep worshipping dope
The devil right by your side and i see death in your eyes
Will you live or do you have the will to die
Chorus
Doo, doo, doo, doo
I want to do things before they become
The things i should have done in my life
Chorus
We don't belong down here
You don't belong down here
You don't belong and we don't belong
We don't belong down here
We don't belong down here
We don't belong
No one belongs down here anymore
Not ever
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Land Of Make Believe
Relaxing back, we dream of things
imagining they could happen some way,
a meeting taking place
in a romantic rendezvous,
falling in love with the most wonderful person of all.
Going where our imagination takes us
in our world of make believe.
Journeying away from reality,
lying on a sandy beach
where the palm trees sway,
watching the blue sparkling waters
roll lazily to the shore.
Feeling the finer things in life given to us in one go.
Some call it a pipe dream
but in reality it is our imagination set free and let go
in our world of make believe.
In reality, our lives are tied
by invisible strings that bind us.
In our imagination we are set free
from any restraints to come and go as we please,
to make ourselves that perfect world,
our heaven on earth
in our land of make believe.
28 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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That crazy Russian
I heard the words that crazy Russian
Used together so many times
There is a chance they will stick together
In some foreign language, in a strange parlance
Like the bittersweet is not sweet or bitter
A strange tasting mix that is hard to describe
That crazy Russian is a complex expression
Where rules of language are hard to abide
Defying the norms, despite expectations
That crazy Russian is the last to stand
When money and power are driving forces
That is hard to imagine and understand
You made him a slave… So, slaves are in fashion
One likes it better, when one is on top
But, please, don’t blame that crazy Russian
The higher you climb, the harder the drop
***
December 20,2009
poem by Slava Olchevski
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The Poem Is A Metaphor
THE POEM IS A METAPHOR
The Poem is a Metaphor
It means ‘the world’
It means ‘all that there is’
It means ‘the soul’
It means ‘our deepest feeling’.
The Poem is a Metaphor
It is more than what it just appears to be
It takes on a life of its own
It says more than it can define itself as
The Poem is a Metaphor
And it itself does not understand
Where it began and how it will end
And whether or not
It should always be rewritten.
The Poem is a Metaphor
And we too are metaphors
That will vanish one day
When all the real Poems
Pretend to still be here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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0027 Dreaming truth
Imagine yourself -
yourself, to imagine –
this dream; dream
this imaging:
the water’s so far, far below
it’s beyond this dark imagining, this dream;
all your attention is required
by this rope bridge,
swayed by nature to some immediate, vibrating laws
of this way, that way, more complex
than steel or concrete bear in mind –
five lines of rope, that’s all,
bound from time to time
but only every few and fearful steps
so that they do not part
unless you tread without remembering
all five of them; toe, heel, as you place your foot…
and now it seems, in the illogical
precision of this dream – which is in
league with some dark inner truth
and so, it must be walked – now,
it’s not five ropes, any more,
but five strings of some instrument
vibrating, low and high; while tense, taut mind
looks for firm frets to tune each step;
or can you trust their tuning?
is the tuning now the fingers of your feet?
each fallible or faulty foothold
will send its string’s own warning of uncertainty:
this bass string, booming failure between the valley’s two high cliffs;
this treble string, nerve-searing scream of pain;
ahead, this firm support that holds the strings, now
drops away; the hollow soundbox that’s all space,
all sound, all air, all touch and light and flow of sound;
the sound of judgment’s stern and justly-tempered final chord –
now you awake: relieved, yet with a question,
born of night, to be resolved by day;
what does the dream tell to the waking thought?
what does the waking thought tell of the dream?
some metaphor for life inhabited your dream;
some knowledge passed, wrapped in a metaphor;
you only know, that it was watched – by whom?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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What I am
I'm not normal
I'm not prissy
I'm not beautiful
I'm not amazing
I'm not organized
I'm not hilarious
I'm not intellegent
I'm not the best in the world
I'm not the worst in the world
I'm not these things because they just aren't me
I hate myself
I hate life
I hate jerks
I am weird
I am crazy
I am pretty
I am unique
I am neat
I am funny
I am smart
I am kind
I am tough
I am sensative
I am all of these things because they're me
I love the people around me
I love death
I love nature
poem by Emily Tyrrell
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There Is No Such A Thing As A Truly Evil Person
There is no such a thing as a truly evil person though some in their life's journey have gone wrong
The worst of criminals do have some good in them not everyone can be mentally pure and mentally strong
Some morally damaged from their tough upbringing life's circumstance condemns them to a life of crime
They spent their teenage years on poverty street homeless and behind prison bars they spend their prime,
Not everyone are born to good parents in life they never did have a fair chance
Inlucky enough never to have a fair go the victims of the cruelest circumstance
'Tis easy for some for to be judgemental some seem to enjoy putting others down
But these people can count themselves lucky that they were not born on the poor side of the town
Where it is near impossible to become a success and where the majority are destined for to lose
Reminds me of a Native American saying never judge one until you walk in their shoes
'Tis easy so easy to call one evil as words are so easy to say
But hear no evil speak no evil a saying I recall from a very long bygone day
There is no such a thing as a truly evil person all children they are born free of sin
But human life is not unlike a horse race many must lose for one to have a win.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Twist Of Fate
They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones
'twas then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight
And watched out for a simple twist of fate.
They walked along by the old canal
A little confused, I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burning bright
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate.
A saxophone someplace far off played
As she was walking by the arcade
As the light bust through the beat-up shade where he was wakin up
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate
And forgot about a simple twist of fate.
He woke up, the room was bare
He didn't see her anywhere.
He told himself he didn't care, pushed the window open wide
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate
Brought on by a simple twist of fate.
He hears the ticking of the clocks
And walks along with a parrot that talks.
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in.
Maybe she'll pick him out again, how long must he wait
Once more for a simple twist of fate.
People tell me it's a sin
to know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring
She was born in spring, but I was born too late
Blame it on a simple twist of fate.
poem by Rat de kwl
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I Couldn't Write The Poem I Wanted To Write
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
I do not know why exactly
Some days it works
And some nights it works
And some times it just does not work at all-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
There have been so many things in my life
I have wanted to do
And not been able to-
As I grow older
I fear there will be more and more simple things
I will not be able to do.
So much of what we are
Is in these failures-
I sometimes think how sad it is
That I have failed in so many things-
All my life I have known failures
And it will not end until I do-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write,
And this is not it, either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Views On Life
life becomes harder as we grow,
love becomes confusing,
family get difficult to work with,
and life gets in the way of living,
but, letting it hold you back,
shouldn't be the excuse you give,
for getting what you want,
the guy you love,
will only stand by you,
if it was meant to happen,
you can't change fate,
family will only seem to grow,
when everybody understands each other,
and see them as the person they were ment to be,
life only gets in the way of living,
when you drift along,
watching only from the side lines,
rather than living life head on,
life path change,
but, seeing life as difficult,
will not change a thing,
just your views on life.
Copyright © 2009
11-28-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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Simple Kind Of Life
For a long time I was in love
Not only in love, I was obsessed
With a friendship that no one else could touch
It didnt work out, Im covered in shells
And all I wanted was a simple thing
A simple kind of life
And all I needed was a simple man
So I could be a wife
Im so ashamed, Ive been so mean
I dont know how it got to this point
Ooh I always was the one with all the love
But you came along, Im hunting you down
Like a sick domestic abuser lookin for a fight
And all I wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life
Oh if we met tomorrow for the very first time
Would it start all over again?
Would I try to make you mine?
I always thought Id be a mom
Sometimes I wish for a mistake
The longer that I wait the more selfish that I get
You seem like youd be a good dad
Now all the simple things are simply too complicated for my life
Howd I get so faithful to my freedom? a selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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