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I think humor is a very serious thing. I use it as a way of weakening the reader's defenses so that I can more easily take him to something more.

quote by William Collins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Diminishing Defenses

Let's remove the platitudes.
And rid the phony subtleties,
To dropp to be who we are...
To let that be seen,
Moving forward to do more progressive things.

You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.

Let's remove the platitudes.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
And let's do it to prove,
It done,
To do.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.

You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.

Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.

Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.

Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Morning Humor

Slippery jack, no more turning back,
All around, morning humor
I am a waiter and I am a server
Ill run to your needs with strength and fervor
In times when you are wasted I will walk in
Through the door, pick you from the floor
Then watch you grow into a man
With a big burly beard
And a mustache to match
Ill watch you love the world
And all that it has...
With that morning humor,
Morning humor
The kind that wakes you up
The kind thats in my blood
Morning humor, morning humor, yeah...
I am on top again, soon to be low again
Oh will this ever end?
Im sorry I dont mean to sound like a whale
Trapped in the ice, but aint it nice to say exactly
What I please...
With a big toney voice or a
Soft mellow voice or the
Loud boisterous voice of an opera, opera lady!
With that morning humor,
Morning humor
The kind that wakes you up.
The kind thats in my blood
Morning humor, morning humor, yeah...
But the joke that kills
Is just a joke to you
You need some...
Slippery jack, no more turning back,
All around, morning humor
The kind that wakes you up
The kind thats in my blood...
Morning humor...

song performed by Live
Added by Lucian Velea
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Please, O God of Humor

Please, O God of Humor, give me the gift of being funny
naturally funny
so I can produce poetry and verse that tickles
and makes readers laugh so much their coins roll out of their wallets;
and let the children roll on the floor when my poems are recited;
for indeed my humor is the worst online by any standard
(or lack of standard)
for when I publish poems meant to be funny
my readers never understand me
and what I thought funny, they think tragic
and what I thought was tickle-tickle material
they find pathetic and practically laughable;
I am lectured to or consoled by readers
when I attempt humor;
I am sent e-mails and spam of advice
and words of caution when I attempt to be witty;
and my 113th poem
on the funny side of social networking
brought sympathy and pity for my lack of friends
but no appreciation for what I thought was funny;
and my 213th poem on old ladies at banks
brought outrage at me for hanging out at banks to ogle at wealthy, old ladies;
my 3131th poem on religion, the Divine
and its Power-packed representatives on Planet Earth
provoked no laughter but the ire and wrath of the other God
(you know, not you the Laughing God,
but the Other One, the Only One, the Angry Jealous God)

really neither man nor beast
nor the Highest Being in heaven
truly
nobody laughs at my verse
and nobody finds my offbeat humor at all funny;
Oh please,
God of Humor,
please make my humor a little like that of
Mr Bean or Jim Carrie
so I can have a universal audience
that will laugh at anything I write
(and perhaps incidentally, I’ll make some money)
and then they’ll all say:
See what the God of Humor and Laughter has done
for that simpleton Raj who never knew what humor in poetry is…
Please God of Humor, won't you humor me?

poem by Raj Arumugam
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My Defenses Are Down

FRANK BUTLER:
I've had my way with so many girls
An' was lots of fun.
My scheme was to know many girls
To keep me safe from one
I find it can be done.
My defenses are down
She's broken my resistance
And I don't know where I am
I went into the fight like a lion
But I came out like a lamb.
My defenses are down
She's got me where she wants me
And I can't escape no how
I could speak to my heart when it wakened
But my heart won't listen now.
Like a toothless, clawless tiger,
Like an organ-grinder's bear,
Like a knight without his armor,
Like Samson without his hair.
My defenses are down
I might as well surrender
For the battle can't be won.
But I must confess that I like it,
So there's nothing to be done.
Yes, I must confess that I like it
Being miserable's gonna be fun
MALE CHORUS:
His defenses are down
She's broken my resistance
And he's in an awful jam.
FRANK BUTLER:
I went into the fight like a lion
MALE CHORUS:
But you came out like a lamb.
FRANK BUTLER:
My defenses are down
MALE CHORUS:
She's got you where she wants you
And you can't escape no how
FRANK BUTLER:
I could speak to my heart when it wakened
MALE CHORUS:
But my heart won't listen now.
FRANK BUTLER:
Like a toothless, clawless tiger,
Like an organ-grinder's bear,
MALE CHORUS:
Like a knight without his armor,
FRANK BUTLER:

[...] Read more

song performed by Irving Berlin
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bagman's Dog, : Mr. Peters's Story

Stant littore Puppies!-- Virgil.

It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.

The Bagman taught him many a trick;
He would carry and fetch, and run after a stick,
Could well understand
The word of command,
And appear to doze
With a crust on his nose,
Till the Bagman permissively waved his hand:
Then to throw up and catch it he never would fail,
As he sat up on end, on his little cock-tail.
Never was puppy so bien instruit,
Or possess'd of such natural talent as he;
And as he grew older,
Every beholder
Agreed he grew handsomer, sleeker, and bolder.--

Time, however, his wheels we may clog,
Wends steadily still with onward jog,
And the cock-tail'd puppy's a curly-tail'd dog!
When just at the time,
He was reaching his prime,
And all thought he'd be turning out something sublime,
One unlucky day,
How, no one could say,
Whether some soft liaison induced him to stray,
Or some kidnapping vagabond coax'd him away,
He was lost to the view
Like the morning dew;
He had been, and was not -- that's all that they knew;
And the Bagman storm'd, and the Bagman swore,
As never a Bagman had sworn before;
But storming or swearing but little avails,
To recover lost dogs with great curly tails.--

In a large paved court, close by Billiter Square,
Stands a mansion old, but in thorough repair,
The only strange thing, from the general air
Of its size and appearance, is, how it got there;
In front is a short semicircular stair
Of stone steps,-- some half score,--
Then you reach the ground floor,
With a shell-pattern'd architrave over the door.

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Harris Barham
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Art of Humor

The parody, the comic
The irony, the slapstick 
The comedy, the joke
There are many names of humor

A little flirt, a bit sway
A random bait, a strike catch
A prick of crack, a needed pain
So far we go just for humor 

Because it is fun, because it is crazy
Because it is refreshing, because it brings laugh
Lightening the mood, building emotion
Always use humor in a good way

The situation, the mimic
The trap, the surprise 
The movement, the style
Only human could understand humor 

The witty question, the innocence answer
The spontaneous expression, the awaited performance 
The dilemma, the mistake
Everything could turn into humor 

To tease, to distract
To criticize, to attract 
To break the ice, to open the gag
Don't take humor too serious 

In critical condition, in awkward moment
In relaxing time, in happy hour 
In strange fact, in life experience
Do you know that God also has a sense of humor?

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Let Me Help You Mend

Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.

Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.

Unlock your hold on troubles,
You keep deep...
To repeat.

Release them from yourself,
And you'll be free...
To visit me.

Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.

Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.

Let me,
Help you mend...
And now!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Came To My Senses

I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
Ive got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
Oh, I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...

song performed by Chicago
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Come To My Senses

I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
I've got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
Oh, i have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...

song performed by Chicago
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nada Mas (only the poem)

Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
unless you speak it.
Reader, there is no sound
you must find what it has to say.
Reader, seek the thought
rising from your soul.
Reader, look all about you, up and down
no one else has come this way.
Reader, there is no other poem
only you among the words of the word; and
nothing more.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dont Rush Me

(alexandra forbes, jeff franzel)
Red roses, temptation,
You make the most of a ify situation.
Im weighing my decision
Whos to say if its love,or if it isnt?
Only time will tell
Just how well Ill get to know you.
Dont mean to lead you on,
But I want to take it slowly, slowly.
Dont rush me
Ive made that mistake before, ah.
Dont rush me.
This love could be so much more
Its well worth the waiting for
Desire can mean danger,
I wanna lover, not another stranger
Im saving all my passion,
Whos to say if its love, or just attraction?
Only time will tell
Just how well Ill get to know you.
Dont mean to lead you on, but I want to take it slowly, slowly.
And my resistance is weakening,weakening everytime we touch.
Baby, you get everything, everything that Ive been dreamin of.
Dont rush me.
Ive made that mistake before, oh yeah.
Dont rush me. this love could be so much more,
Its well worth the waiting for, yeah.
My resistance is weakening
Every time we touch,
Cause baby youve got everything,
Everything that Ive been dreaming of.
[guitar solo]
Dont rush me. Ive made that mistake before,
Oh yeah. dont rush me. this love could be so much more,
Its well worth the waiting for.
Dont rush me. Ive made that mistake before,
Oh yeah. dont rush me. this love could be so much more,
Its well worth the waiting for, yeah.

song performed by Taylor Dayne
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Could Easily Fall In Love With You

Aum aum aum aum
Aum aum aum aum
If you should tell me that I'll always be,
The one you'll always love so true.
Then I can tell you I could easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
It wasn't long ago I saw you there.
But even then I thought I knew,
That given half a chance I'd easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
I've been too long on my ownsome now.
I've been too long by myself.
I couldn't feel more lonesome now.
If I was left on the shelf.
Don't ever change that smile you're smiling now.
And please don't let me see you blue.
Then I can tell you oh so easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
I've been too long on my ownsome now.
I've been too long by myself.
I couldn't feel more lonesome now.
If I was left on the shelf.
Don't ever change that smile you're smiling now.
And please don't let me see you blue.
Then I can tell you oh so easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
Aum aum aum aum
Aum aum aum aum

song performed by Cliff Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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The Perfect Poem

Fledgling poets often make a wide variety of mistakes,
And it’s nice to have these brought to your attention.
People enjoy writing poetry, as at the end of the day,
They end up, with a product of their own invention.

If you’re writing a poem to enter into a competition,
Don’t be tempted to use coloured ink or fancy fonts;
Along with the use of images, they detract from the poem,
And this is not what any reader, especially a judge, wants.

The title of your masterpiece is very important indeed;
It needs to really grab the reader’s eye and attention.
People don’t always realise how important a catchy title is,
But, it is a valid point which really is worth a mention.

The body of text, needs to be broken into bite size verses,
So as it’s attractive to the reader’s roving and selective eye.
If a poem looks forbidding, and uninviting on the printed page,
Many a reader is likely to just gloss over it, and pass it on by.

The wording of a poem should sound as natural as can be:
Phrases shouldn’t be inverted in order to satisfy a rhyme.
The use of inversion is not considered to be skilful writing,
But, it is used by many writers of poetry, time after time.

The lines of a poem, especially those ones which rhyme,
Give or take a syllable, should be roughly of equal length.
If a poem has a really good strong, rhythmic pulse to it,
It really does give it so much more balance and strength.

Readers are much less likely to choose to read a poem,
If it is really confusing, or if it is just weirdly obscure.
Too many ideas and themes packed into one piece alone,
Is another problem which readers hate to have to endure.

You shouldn’t tell the reader too much or too little –
It needs to be just the right amount of information.
They need the chance to find their own way into a poem,
Leaving room for their own imagination, and interpretation.

Certain subjects are covered time and time again,
And so there’s not really anything very new to say;
If you do choose to write about a popular subject,
You need to present it in a totally fresh and new way.

If you follow the above useful advice and guidelines,
Your chances of winning a competition should increase.
Correct any spelling and grammatical errors you may have,
Then, you should end up with pretty much the perfect piece.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Ballade Of The Average Reader

I try to touch the public taste,
For thus I earn my daily bread.
I try to write what folks will paste
In scrap books after I am dead.
By Public Craving I am led.
(I' sooth, a most despotic leader)
Yet, though I write for Tom and Ned,
I've never seen an average reader.

The Editor is good and chaste,
But says: (Above the public's head;
This is _too_ good; 'twill go to waste.
Write something commonplacer-
Ed.)
Write for the average reader, fed
By pre-digested near-food's feeder,
But though my high ideals have fled,
I've never _seen_ an average reader.

How many lines have been erased!
How many fancies have been shed!
How many failures might be traced
To this-this average-reader dread!
I've seen an average single bed;
I've seen an average garden-weeder;
I've seen an average cotton thread-
I've _never_ seen an average _reader_.

L'ENVOI

Most read of readers, if you've read
The works of any old succeeder,
You know that he, too, must have said:
'I've never seen an Average Reader.'

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Praveen Kumar
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The Politics of Narrative: Why I Am A Poet

Jill's a good kid who's had some tough luck. But that's
another story. It's a day when the smell of fish from Tib's hash
house is so strong you could build a garage on it. We are sit-
ting in Izzy's where Carl has just built us a couple of solid
highballs. He's okay, Carl is, if you don't count his Roamin'
Hands and Rushin' Fingers. Then again, that should be the
only trouble we have in this life. Anyway, Jill says, "Why
don't you tell about it? Nobody ever gets the poet's point of
view." I don't know, maybe she's right. Jill's just a kid, but
she's been around; she knows what's what.
So, I tell Jill, we are at Izzy's just like now when he
comes in. And the first thing I notice is his hair, which has
been Vitalis-ed into submission. But, honey, it won't work,
and it gives him a kind of rumpled your-boudoir-or-mine look.
I don't know why I noticed that before I noticed his face.
Maybe it was just the highballs doing the looking. Anyway,
then I see his face, and I'm telling you--I'm telling Jill--this is
a masterpiece of a face.
But--and this is the god's own truth--I'm tired of
beauty. Really. I know, given all that happened, this must
sound kind of funny, but it made me tired just to look at him.
That's how beautiful he was, and how much he spelled T-R-
O-U-B-L-E. So I threw him back. I mean, I didn't say it, I say
to Jill, with my mouth. But I said it with my eyes and my
shoulders. I said it with my heart. I said, Honey, I'm throwing
you back. And looking back, that was the worst, I mean, the
worst thing--bar none--that I could have done, because it
drew him like horseshit draws flies. I mean, he didn't walk
over and say, "Hello, girls; hey, you with the dark hair, your
indifference draws me like horseshit draws flies."
But he said it with his eyes. And then he smiled. And
that smile was a gas station on a dark night. And as wearying
as all the rest of it. I am many things, but dumb isn't one of
them. And here is where I say to Jill, "I just can't go on." I
mean, how we get from the smile into the bedroom, how it all
happens, and what all happens, just bores me. I am a concep-
tual storyteller. In fact, I'm a conceptual liver. I prefer the
cookbook to the actual meal. Feeling bores me. That's why I
write poetry. In poetry you just give the instructions to the
reader and say, "Reader, you go on from here." And what I like
about poetry is its readers, because those are giving people. I
mean, those are people you can trust to get the job done. They
pull their own weight. If I had to have someone at my back in
a dark alley, I'd want it to be a poetry reader. They're not like
some people, who maybe do it right if you tell them, "Put this
foot down, and now put that one in front of the other, button
your coat, wipe your nose."
So, really, I do it for the readers who work hard and, I
feel, deserve something better than they're used to getting. I
do it for the working stiff. And I write for people, like myself,

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poem by Lynn Emanuel
Added by Poetry Lover
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Sense Of Humor

You will like my sense of humor
You will be addicted to my smile
Laughing all the while
And I will end each conversation
I will leave the room with upper hand
And you will understand
You will find my scent attractive
You will like my real, engaging eyes
And playful, childlike smile
You will find my style appealing
I will overpower you with wits
And I will be a hit
If only you'd run to me
If only you'd come to me
If only you'd relax upon your rules
And dare to be love's fool
If only you'd come for me
If only you'd run to me
If only you'd relax upon those rules
And dare to be love's fool
Waking up from a coma (tossing, turning)
Sweat has covered my body (my mouth felt dry)
My life flashing before me (nothing much to say)
Still it was so boring (did you hear me sing?)
Only I could adore you (the wind through the trees)
Silently barking orders (rushing up to me)
This is only beginning (don't anger the sea)
Oh, the wave's crashing higher and higher on me
Crash, crash, crash, crash
If only you'd relax upon your rules
And dare to be love's fool
If only you'd run to me
All the blinking lights, noise of eternity (if only you'd come to me)
All the sentences swirling inside of me (you will like my sense of humor)
Inside of me (and dare to be love's fool)
(If only you'd come to me)
I have censored my eyes, I get drawn through my ears (if only you'd run to me)
Redirected desire now
It comes out as tears (you will like my sense of humor)
You know, it comes out as tears (and dare to be love's fool)
You will like my sense of humor
You will like my sense of humor

song performed by Darren Hayes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thats What Love Is For

Michael omartian/mark muller/amy grant
Copyright 1991 all nations music (ascap)/moomaison (ascap)/mca music, a div. of mca, inc. (ascap)/age to age music, inc. (ascap), adm. by reunion music group, inc.
Sometimes we make it harder than it is
Well take a perfect night
And fill it up with words we dont mean
Dark sides best unseen
And we wonder why were feeling this way.
Sometimes I wonder if we really feel the same
Why we can be unkind
Questioning the strongest of hearts
Thats when we must start
Believing in the one thing that has gotten us this far.
Thats what love is for
To help us through it
Thats what love if for
Nothing else can do it.
Melt our defenses
Bring us back to our senses
Give us strength to try once more
Baby, thats what love is for.
Sometimes I see you
And you dont know I am there
And Im washed away by emotions
I hold deep down inside
Getting stronger with time
Its living through the fire
And holding on we find
Thats what love is for
To help us through it
Thats what love if for
Nothing else can do it.
Melt our defenses
Bring us back to our senses
Give us strength to try once more
Baby, thats what love is for.
Believing in the one thing
That has gotten us this far
Thats what love is for
To help us through it
Thats what love if for
Nothing else can do it.
Round off the edges
Talk us down from the ledges
Give us strength to try once more
Baby, thats what love is for
Thats what love if for.
Thats what love if for
Melt our defenses
Bring us back to our senses
Give us strength to try once more

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song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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