(V – 2010) Laiku 228
(5) Poetry:
From the deserts of despair and despondency
The coolness of nights singing with passion madly
Related quotes
An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is All In One!
Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(W – 2011) Random Musings – 007
Passion breeds poetry
Poetry feeds passion
But mine is dispassionate passion
And passionate dispassion
So I breed nothing
I feed nothing
I remain
Passion, dispassion and poetry
All rolled into one.
But Don't Despair
Despair, if you must –
But how's it going to pull you through?
Despair, when you trust
Naught since then there's naught to do.
Despair, should you thrust
Aside your pride, your self-esteem.
And so despair, if it's dust,
The only substance that you deem.
Despair, when a gust
Of slightly breeze can break your stance.
And do despair, when lust
Is your interpretation of romance.
But don't despair, if you can care
About the plight of any other being.
And you can focus on the help,
Support, and altruistic further actions
For the seeing. Be believing,
As despair will start receding
All around – simply since you found
A way to steer you clear
From this: the very cause of your despair!
So give to others; give them all a helping lift:
Despair, you'll find will disappear –
And that has got to be a well-deserved
And saintly gift!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Rain of despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Poetry...
when poetry stings
there's someone who smiles
from the cadences of infused passion
to the rhythm of a gyrating emotion
when poetry rings
there's someone who sings
from the rhyme that often burst forth
to the brilliant lights that soulful thought
when poetry peals
there's someone who flutes
the words that hangs on a harp
there's someone playing the music
of the soul...
if poetry be your passion play on
please don't stop
if poetry be your fire
please burn on in desire
if poetry be your height
please rise on go on higher...
poem by Beibee Beibee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Want To Look At It
The dawn confined to the break of words
Please do carry beyond the blue eyes and the ashes of light
Here - go and say it it's time
Though I know the first word will break the lips into pieces
The hair will split the horizons into two halves
Divide the light from darkness again and again
That's what we do with ourselves
Given the freedom of being right and wrong
The mothers of fragile sighs
Will move the deserts one more step
The fathers will slip away
The daughters will spread their arms
The sons will carry the handfuls of their own hearts
Singing sorrow singing sorrow and darkness
They will all say please drink please eat again and again
The breakfast of your life
Eventually nothing will move
Neither the sound nor the breeze
Just a plunge singing the dogs
Just the dogs singing the plunge
Barking madly biting their own tails
Playing a cruel game
Of everybody's pain and terror
Don't want to look at it
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nights Of Passion
Night of passion, the day of feelings,
you see my smile, you see my joy
you Filled my dreams, you fill my empty sadness,
my night with you, my day with to you
Your passion, my sweet passion,
You wish my eternal wish, i wish your eternal wish,
Nights to love, those are nights of passion.
poem by Juan Duarte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Despair Of The Early Morning
DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING
Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.
Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.
Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.
The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passion
A passion found, is a passion to keep
A passion felt, is a passion to be kept
Poetry from the heart, poetry from the soul,
Poetry I have always felt,
There are many passions in
this world but none like this one, which you can
always return too when you feel lost or
feel you have something to say
I love thee yet, I love thee more
but with words I can express thee hence more
Sometimes life feels too complex to find the one with the same passion as you share,
Someone that understands you for you, not only the external you, but the inner you,
Someone that understands your thoughts and passions in life; pleasure is one thing but
Once that desire for pleasure with that person has been diminished,
what is there, nothing, a desire gone and lost,
yet to say I yearn, and can't wait till I find the one that shares the same passion and desires as I do
poem by Coker George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Two Loves
My passion is shared by my poetry and by you
And for each, it's growing ever stronger
That I'm in love with you both is undeniably true
And I'll love you forever, and even longer
With my poetry you'll never have to compete
Or ever have a reason to be jealous
My poetry is inspired by your love so sweet
But sometimes I get a bit overzealous
You and I share a love as a woman and a man
Satisfying each other's deepest desires
You make me feel like poetry never can
Our love ignites passion's fires
But the way I feel when a poem's taking shape
Is like nothing I've ever felt before
My creativity at last, has found an escape
Cascading over me like waves on the shore
Of my two loves, you are first in my heart
and I promise you always will be
Because of you, my poetry got it's start
Now you both are the best part of me
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Screams Of Passion
Performed by the family
{from the family (1985)}
Woah, no. woah, yeah.
Woah, no, woah no, yeah, yeah
Theres a gentle autumn breeze
That blows whenever we be lyin
Lyin in my bed
The moon appears and disappears
U look at me, my clothes I quickly
I quickly shed
The curtains dance a minuet
Autumn plays the music baby
Come on hold my hand
Leaves are fallin velvet splash
Only u and I can under
Only u can understand
The sunlight draws a picture
Through the silky lace that hangs above your
Hangs above your door
A picture that is waving
That is seems to be with every thrust
U make me beg for more
A robin sings a masterpiece
That lives and dies unheard
For screams of passion
A sound produced by two in love (oh, two in love)
Curtains dance and autumn plays on (and on and on)
The screams of passion
All I hear in my [head/hair]
Echoing like a volcano baby
The screams of passion
Back and forth the raging seas of lust
I want u madly
Cant u tell, cant u tell
Cant u tell, cant u tell, ow!
Take me in your arms, oh baby
The crime is done
Id rather die here in your
Screams of passion (woah, hold me now, baby)
Tell me that u [want/love] me (tell me that u [want/love] me)
Is it sunday or is it passion?
The screams of passion (the screams of passion, yeah)
The screams of... the screams of...
The screams of passion (passion)
Yeah! (shhh, not so loud, baby)
Yeah! (shhh, shhh)
The screams of passion
The screams of passion
The screams of passion
The screams of... the screams of...
The screams of passion
The screams of passion
Back and forth the raging seas of lust
Raging, raging (the screams of passion)
U know I want u madly, baby
Why cant u tell?
Is it sunday?
I thought I heard a churchbell (or was it passion? )
Passion (yeah, yeah)
Passion
The screams of passion
Whatd u say baby?
Excuse me but is that your passion?
Do u want my passion?
Do u want my passion?
If u want my love
If u want my body baby
Let me hear u... let me hear u... let...
Let me hear u scream
I want some passion
U know what Im talkin about baby?
I want some passion
U got that baby?
I want some passion
Passion
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.
quote by George Eliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetic Instuition
Poetry is an innate expression,
a candid personal passion.
Poetry is an intrinsic inspiration,
literally excites a stimulastion.
Poetry lit up condition
of sentimental emotion.
Poetry enthuses varied notions
that raise dramatic explanations.
Poetry magnifies innate imaginations
and stimulates artistic reactions.
Indeed, poetry is all in one intuition,
a picturesque creation of human interactions!
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Riddle 3
THE air is bright with hues of light
And rich with laughter and with singing:
Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,
And banners wave, and bells are ringing:
But silence falls with fading day,
And there's an end to mirth and play.
Ah, well-a-day
Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!
The kettle sings, the firelight dances.
Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught
That fills the soul with golden fancies!
For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,
And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
Ah, well-a-day!
O fair cold face! O form of grace,
For human passion madly yearning!
O weary air of dumb despair,
From marble won, to marble turning!
"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
"We cannot let thee pass away!"
Ah, well-a-day!
poem by Lewis Carroll from Four Riddles
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Shit Poetry
I would much rather stare at a blank page
Than read the shit poetry I write. Everything is
Lost in translation, coagulated
And dry, I write this. A formulaic
Thought is forgotten and skewed, I can't
Explain this. Head in my hands, anger through
My veins, despair and aggravation, this
Is what my shit poetry creates for me?
Or is this despair and aggravation why
I write this shit poetry of mine?
poem by Ryan Sanders
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Poetry
1
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp
2
in poetry there are no
clichés in thought and phrase;
and what is left there is
the resplendent and the living
3
poetry leaves one
rich inside
and ordinary outside
4
the fool defines poetry
and poetry defies all definitions
5
poetry entertains, inspires;
poetry tickles, distracts, and shapes and frees -
but its true intent, no one knows
6
many lines, and countless lines
many pages, and thick volumes
don’t make poetry
7
if one had no coins
one cannot buy bread;
but not all the world’s wealth
can bring you poetry
8
Oh no!
Not another love poem!
Oh no!
Not another poem about oneself!
9
rhyme, technique and meter
and tricks of prosody
don’t make poetry: passion does
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Despair Is Darkness
DESPAIR IS DARKNESS
Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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