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Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.

quote by T.S. Eliot
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It's a Feeling Deeper

There is a certain meaning to it.
For people who are born to do this.
It's not on the surface to depict.
With an easy category to assign to it.

It's a feeling deeper.

There is a certain meaning to it.
For people who are born to do this.
It's just not what it appears to exist.
This 'thing' is deeper.
Below a surface reached for 'it'.

It's a feeling deeper.
That's deep.

Deeper,
And from below a surface that must be exposed.
This 'thing' gets deeper,
And those knowing it want it shown not kept unknown.

It's a feeling deeper that's deep.
Deeper that's deep.
It's a feeling deeper.
It's not on the surface to depict.
With an easy category to assign to it.

It's a feeling deeper that's deep.
Deeper that's deep.
It's just not what it appears to exist.
This 'thing' is deeper.
Below a surface reached for 'it'.
It's a feeling deeper that's deep.
Deeper that's deep.

It's a feeling deeper.
That's deep.
Deeper that's deep.
Deeper.
Deeper.

It's a feeling deeper.
That's deep.
Deeper that's deep.
Much deeper.

How can anyone connect it.
Deeper.
How can anyone connect it.
Deeper!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deeper

I cant even look at this skin tonight
Knowing that our time here is on a while
Hold me in your arms and breathe me through
Like I know that you can only do
In your horizon, no, nothing truly dies
Never tremble with fear
Youre just married to the sun
And every second only makes it deeper
Flower pushes through the dune (? ) and blooms
It doesnt have the faintest(? ) that it is due
A virginity is making loss an open wound
In your horizon, no, nothing truly dies
Never tremble with fear
Youre just married to the sun
And every second only makes it deeper
Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper
I was alone in my room
And all I can hear
And all I can hear
Was the sound of my heart beating away
But I will follow you
Deep into the light
Beyond the death of love
Love
In your horizon, no, you will be together
Faith(? ) from this hell
Ill be married to the sun
And every second
Will only make it deeper
Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper
Deeper, deeper
Deeper, deeper
There is a light
Deeper, light
Its deeper than the difference of light
Deeper, light
There is a light
Deeper, light
Its deeper than (..) light
Deeper, light
And I will follow you
Deeper than the death of love
Deeper than the (..) seen(? ) to the light
Its deeper than this flesh and blood
I will follow you
I will follow you
Deeper

song performed by Live
Added by Lucian Velea
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One Day

The deeper and deeper I fall, deeper and deeper I seek,
Deeper and deeper I try and deeper and deeper I need
Forgive me
4x
And all I see is your face
2x
The deeper and deeper I fall, deeper and deeper I seek
Deeper and deeper I try, the deeper and deeper I need
The deeper and deeper I fail, deeper and deeper I read
Deeper and deeper I cry, the deeper and deeper I feed
Caught up in this game of life, me against you
Not doing what I should, just the things that I want to
So wrapped up, terrified of what I become
Outside Im laughing, inside Im numb
I cant see the light because it blinds me
Try to forget but my past always remidns me
Exposed, looked on by eyes of grace
Im so ashamed, dont look at my face
All I see is your face
4x
Get up by your strength, I rise up to thee
But Ill stay on my face if you will of me
Shape and mold me til your though
Humble myself, life laid down before you
I need your wisdom, so the truth I keep on living
And your love will always be a part of me
Cant do a thing, if I aint living for the kind
So dont ever leave or take your eyes off me
Its not who you are its who youre living for
Trials and tribulations will come

song performed by P.O.D.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lara

LARA. [1]

CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, [2]
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord —
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.

II.

The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself; — that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest! —
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.

III.

And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Lara. A Tale

The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain,
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord--
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.

II.
The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself;--that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest!--
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.

III.
And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
'Yet doth he live!' exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy grace
The Laras' last and longest dwelling-place;
But one is absent from the mouldering file,
That now were welcome to that Gothic pile.

IV.
He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
And whence they know not, why they need not guess;

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Goal Of Poetry

it is simply to reach
out to people
with our verbal hands
these mental arms
and make them
look

deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
d eeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeperdeeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper

too, within
themselves

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Deeper Side

Ive found a reason to dig deep down.
Theres a part of you that I aint found thats in your deeper side.
Instead of wondering what I should do,
I tried to learn a couple things about you from your deeper side.
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
That I would give most anything to see.
Theres a lot of things that I would know
If you would let me climb into your soul and see your deeper side.
Everybody always seems so pure,
Then they show you what their heart stands for in their deeper side.
Show me your, yeah. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
I would give most anything to see.
You think the world has got your number now.
You cry about it but you know somehow its your deeper side.
I heard you wishing you were someone else
But all thats stopping you from being yourself is your deeper side.
So, show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Please, show me your deeper side. (show me your deeper side)
Oh, show me your deeper side. (its a mystery)
I would give most anything, and, I would give most anything.
You would give most anything to see.
Show me your deeper side.

song performed by Hootie & The Blowfish
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poetry: What Is Poetry?

Poetry pleases my ears
that words sound in harmony,
but not to a foreign tongue.

Poetry draws a picture
to invite my eyes,
but still puzzles my mind.

Poetry blows with wind,
in water He flows,
shouts in thunders,
and bounces as rock in roll.

Poetry preserves His truth,
in secret codes, simple words,
only reveals to the worthy.

Poetry sings in my ears,
dances in front my eyes,
kisses my lips,
brings fragrance,
that fills my mind
and imprints my soul.

Poetry does not like as I like
as whenever I use as like wrongly,
and it is unfair He uses
correctly all times He does,
but I make Him to like
as I do like anyway.

Poetry tells stories
to company my journey,
writes jokes
to convert my tragedy
into a comedy,
and builds a rainbow bridge
where my dream
and reality meet.

Poetry blinded Homer
with Helen and war,
afflicted Catullus
with his love and hate,
taught Beowulf
how to fight!

Poetry made Li Bai drunk
in magical words,
brought sorrows to Du Fu,

[...] Read more

poem by Laijon Liu
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Retirement

Hackney'd in business, wearied at that oar,
Which thousands, once fast chain'd to, quit no more,
But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low,
All wish, or seem to wish, they could forego;
The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade,
Pants for the refuge of some rural shade,
Where, all his long anxieties forgot
Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot,
Or recollected only to gild o'er
And add a smile to what was sweet before,
He may possess the joys he thinks he sees,
Lay his old age upon the lap of ease,
Improve the remnant of his wasted span,
And, having lived a trifler, die a man.
Thus conscience pleads her cause within the breast,
Though long rebell'd against, not yet suppress'd,
And calls a creature form'd for God alone,
For Heaven's high purposes, and not his own,
Calls him away from selfish ends and aims,
From what debilitates and what inflames,
From cities humming with a restless crowd,
Sordid as active, ignorant as loud,
Whose highest praise is that they live in vain,
The dupes of pleasure, or the slaves of gain,
Where works of man are cluster'd close around,
And works of God are hardly to be found,
To regions where, in spite of sin and woe,
Traces of Eden are still seen below,
Where mountain, river, forest, field, and grove,
Remind him of his Maker’s power and love.
'Tis well, if look’d for at so late a day,
In the last scene of such a senseless play,
True wisdom will attend his feeble call,
And grace his action ere the curtain fall.
Souls, that have long despised their heavenly birth,
Their wishes all impregnated with earth,
For threescore years employ’d with ceaseless care,
In catching smoke, and feeding upon air,
Conversant only with the ways of men,
Rarely redeem the short remaining ten.
Inveterate habits choke the unfruitful heart,
Their fibres penetrate its tenderest part,
And, draining its nutritious power to feed
Their noxious growth, starve every better seed.
Happy, if full of days—but happier far,
If, ere we yet discern life’s evening star,
Sick of the service of a world that feeds
Its patient drudges with dry chaff and weeds,
We can escape from custom’s idiot sway,
To serve the sovereign we were born to obey.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Something that pours from the heart

Poetry is something as mystical as the mountains;
shimmering majestically on the rivers in diffused
beams of brilliant sunshine,

Poetry is something as astonishing as the glittering
gold biscuits entrenched deep beneath earth; emanating
a profound glow that blended poignantly with the
atmosphere,

Poetry is something as ingratiating as the hissing
serpent; deluging the morbid ambience around with
overwhelming exhilaration,

Poetry is something as ravishing as the blossoming
petals of rubicund rose; wafting its essence
ubiquitously through all continents of this colossal
Universe,

Poetry is something as grandiloquent as the
incredulously embellished castle; offering an abode to
anyone afflicted by inexplicable distress,

Poetry is something as vivacious as the magnificently
swirling ocean; with each of its tangy waves
fulminating into a blanket of pungent froth,

Poetry is something as magnanimous as the clouds;
which bless the parched soil and ground with
torrential showers of mesmerizing rain,

Poetry is something as resplendent as the fathomless
rainbow; dissipating into vibrant shades of
magnificently animated color,

Poetry is something as exuberant as the cheekily
dancing peacock; incarcerating millions in its
stupendously enamoring swirl,

Poetry is something as innocuous as the new born
infant; touching the hearts of even the most
diabolical with irrefutable ardor,

Poetry is something as soft as voluptuously woven pure
silk; exquisitely binding every religion prevalent on
this planet,

Poetry is something as ingenious as the bubbling buds
of mushroom; evolving into celestial sprouts of
wonderful white,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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No No No (Can't Come Back)

Last night woke in bed
In a cold cold sweat so sweaty so funky
Dreamin of bad things to be or not to be
Haunting things like homelessness all the lonely people
Without a job car or food to eat
Leaves you a little bit paranoid well well
Can you spare a dime
But it reminds me how easily
We let our fears affect who we are
No no no cant come back
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no cant come back
No ill feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No ego trippin no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no cant come back
Had a friend in desperate need
Of a little attention compassion you see
Did I mention that friend was me nope
Whod just broken up from a love affair well well well well
I must admit I was truly hurt
And I couldnt change the facts and thats a fact
He loves her more than he loves me
And its truly just as simple as that
No no no cant come back
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no cant come back
No ill feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No ego trippin no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no cant come back
Dont care what other people say
Dont listen to them anyway
Cant let the evil get its way
Dont let bad feelings make you pay
Dont care what other people say
Dont listen to them anyway
Cant let the evil get its way
Dont let bad feelings make you pay
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no

[...] Read more

song performed by En Vogue
Added by Lucian Velea
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No, No, No,

Last night woke in bed
In a cold cold sweat so sweaty so funky
Dreamin' of bad things to be or not to be
Haunting things like homelessness all the lonely people
Without a job car or food to eat
Leaves you a little bit paranoid well well
Can you spare a dime
But it reminds me how easily
We let our fears affect who we are
No no no can't come back
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no can't come back
No ill feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No ego trippin' no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no can't come back
Had a friend in desperate need
Of a little attention compassion you see
Did i mention that friend was me nope
Who'd just broken up from a love affair well well well well
I must admit i was truly hurt
And i couldn't change the facts and that's a fact
He loves her more than he loves me
And it's truly just as simple as that
No no no can't come back
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no can't come back
No ill feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no
No ego trippin' no no no
No insecure feelings
No no no can't come back
Don't care what other people say
Don't listen to them anyway
Can't let the evil get it's way
Don't let bad feelings make you pay
Don't care what other people say
Don't listen to them anyway
Can't let the evil get it's way
Don't let bad feelings make you pay
No bad feelings no no no
No sad feelings no no no
No jealous feelings no no no

[...] Read more

song performed by En Vogue
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song of the Artesian Water

Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought;
But we're sick of prayers and Providence -- we're going to do without;
With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below,
We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go.
Sinking down, deeper down,
Oh, we'll sink it deeper down:
As the drill is plugging downward at a thousand feet of level,
If the Lord won't send us water, oh, we'll get it from the devil;
Yes, we'll get it from the devil deeper down.
Now, our engine's built in Glasgow by a very canny Scot,
And he marked it twenty horse-power, but he don't know what is what:
When Canadian Bill is firing with the sun-dried gidgee logs,
She can equal thirty horses and a score or so of dogs.
Sinking down, deeper down,
Oh, we're going deeper down:
If we fail to get the water, then it's ruin to the squatter,
For the drought is on the station and the weather's growing hotter,
But we're bound to get the water deeper down.

But the shaft has started caving and the sinking's very slow,
And the yellow rods are bending in the water down below,
And the tubes are always jamming, and they can't be made to shift
Till we nearly burst the engine with a forty horse-power lift.
Sinking down, deeper down,
Oh, we're going deeper down:
Though the shaft is always caving, and the tubes are always jamming,
Yet we'll fight our way to water while the stubborn drill is ramming --
While the stubborn drill is ramming deeper down.

But there's no artesian water, though we've passed three thousand feet,
And the contract price is growing, and the boss is nearly beat.
But it must be down beneath us, and it's down we've got to go,
Though she's bumping on the solid rock four thousand feet below.
Sinking down, deeper down,
Oh, we're going deeper down:
And it's time they heard us knocking on the roof of Satan's dwellin';
But we'll get artesian water if we cave the roof of hell in --
Oh! we'll get artesian water deeper down.

But it's hark! the whistle's blowing with a wild, exultant blast,
And the boys are madly cheering, for they've struck the flow at last;
And it's rushing up the tubing from four thousand feet below,
Till it spouts above the casing in a million-gallon flow.
And it's down, deeper down --
Oh, it comes from deeper down;
It is flowing, ever flowing, in a free, unstinted measure
From the silent hidden places where the old earth hides her treasure --
Where the old earth hides her treasures deeper down.

And it's clear away the timber, and it's let the water run:

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Added by Poetry Lover
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Deep Water

Is it a crime for me to be feeling this way
I'm going out of my mind and there's
no change from a runaway love
Is it a dream (is it a dream)
That I'm throwing in the wishing well
I'm losing control my body and soul
(body and soul)Standing here waiting
for a train that may never come
I saw the signs I read the books
I should of had a second look
ut you caught me dreaming
nd there were times you'd come around a
we'd agreed to just be friends tell
me who it's fooling oooo
Deep water I'm drowning
Deep water I'm slowly drowning in deeper
Deep water I'm drowning
Deep water I'm slowly drowning in deeper
what do I say(what can I say)
where words have failed me before
what do i do when i'm feeling so blue
and there's no place for me to run and hide
I saw the sun inside your smile and wished
for then just awhile cause boy you caught
me dreaming a giant step into the dark
and we through caution to the wind tell
me who we're fooling oooo
Deep water I'm drowning
deep water i'm slowly drowning in deeper
Deep water i'm drowning
deep water i'm slowly drowning deeper
i'm drowning
deeper deeper i'm drowning in deeper
oh i saw the signs i read the book
i should have had a second look
cause boy you caught me dreaming
and there are times youd come around
and we'd agreed to just be friends tell me who it's fooling
Deep water i'm drowning
deep water i'm slowly drowning in deeper
deep water i'm drowning
deep water i'm slowly drowning in deeper
deeper deeper deeper
i'm drowning in deeper
(drowning in drowning in drowning in)
deeper deeper deeper
so deep is the water
(drowning in drowning in drowning in)
fade out

song performed by Incognito
Added by Lucian Velea
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Z. Comments

CRYSTAL GLOW

Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!

Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.

Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.

FRAGRANT JASMINE

Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.

I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU

Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell

Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.

I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU

Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.

Margaret Alice Comment:

'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'

Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!

IN CELESTIAL WINGS

Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.

Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.

'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'

Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.

RAGING FIRE

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poem by Praveen Kumar
Added by Poetry Lover
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