Citatepedia^®.com

Toeless Fear

The name calls the name
spraying the moon with red colour.
It touches a nerve, when there is
standoff on the lake.

A blueish eye invades an iron space
between near solids of docks.
The gap was widening and
the thoughts had a dead punctuation.

The fake and madeup story sit
on my breast. I go for the nakedness
of real thing. A mediocre cool burns
the skill of swans. Waves collapse.

That body was not mine. I lived
in many souls. Invisible floats
my grief in embryo of the
unborn child.

poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Gyroscope

This admirable gadget, when it is
Wound on a string and spun with steady force,
Maintains its balance on most any smooth
Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes.
It is whirled not on a constant course, but still
Stands in unshivering integrity
For quite some time, meaning nothing perhaps
But being something agreeable to watch,
A silver nearly silence gleaning a still-
ness out of speed, composing unity
From spin, so that its hollow spaces seem
Solids of light, until it wobbles and
Begins to whine, and then with an odd lunge
Eccentric and reckless, it skids away
And drops dead into its own skeleton.

poem by Howard Nemerov
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Defending The Lady

Defence prolongs indifference aloud,
It tastes the worth, it makes one cry too fast,
I work on those despairing in the crowd,
Then wonders cease, the worlds shall be amassed.
On clouds we speak, on lines we dab and cry
The luck of gases and the solids here,
Defence is understanding my ally,
The wails and small acts may now appear.
Choose ways that know and concentrate above,
Here ways are certain and they are fixed now,
Their honesty shall blame them with a shove,
One lady creeps behind the face’s brow.
One hears and sees the face of splendour there,
Like modesty it shimmers faster care.

poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Faraway and So Near

Don't know how you're receiving this;
I not writing it down.
You see, I'm dead.
Killed slung as a tree stamped me out,40 miles per hour;

Solids are aglow,
And my haze is a timeless rhyme.

Usually I walk through walls, and even appear to a few sensitive folks;
Some days are foggier than the rest,
And I cannot concentrate:
For some reason I'm still in full ski gear (cumbersome) ,
But no longer is the snow cold, at all.

I stumble into an unfamiliar room; it is you I feel;
You don't have the means to turn and look at me:
It's the back of your neck I see...
And lightly begin to touch it.

poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Globalized Chocolates!

Extracted from the seeds of tropical climate,
Unearthed the remnants of sweet beverage,
The drink of Natives for many thousand years,
Imported to the Europe as cocoa seeds and solids,
When the dark cocoa solid and cocoa butter,
Emulsified with white milk, the recipe found,
In the continent of Europe, but in South America,
Natives were slaughtered, their notes burned,
Their temples, culture and identity ruined,
Their women were separated and raped,
The chocolate was born in the continent of white,
where white, dark and mixed chocolates are sold,
recipe exported to every nook and corner of the world,
the globalization of a commodity before the chips.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Grant You Ample Leave

"I grant you ample leave
To use the hoary formula 'I am'
Naming the emptiness where thought is not;
But fill the void with definition, 'I'
Will be no more a datum than the words
You link false inference with, the 'Since' & 'so'
That, true or not, make up the atom-whirl.
Resolve your 'Ego', it is all one web
With vibrant ether clotted into worlds:
Your subject, self, or self-assertive 'I'
Turns nought but object, melts to molecules,
Is stripped from naked Being with the rest
Of those rag-garments named the Universe.
Or if, in strife to keep your 'Ego' strong
You make it weaver of the etherial light,
Space, motion, solids & the dream of Time --
Why, still 'tis Being looking from the dark,
The core, the centre of your consciousness,
That notes your bubble-world: sense, pleasure, pain,
What are they but a shifting otherness,

[...] Read more

poem by George Eliot
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Angry Mother!

Spiking is cruel, when I come to your home,
I have observed the wicked smile in every Rome,
Over the years I have gone feeble, but look strong,
my numbing nerves send the signals wrong.

Mixed with solvent not to get detected quicker,
Solids can be added to add some more flavor,
Served in the beautiful cups to get distracted,
Spiking becomes everyday occurrence yet to be noted.

Bees never spiked me to build their hives to save honey,
Birds may dip their beaks; but never break the rules of nature,
The greens obedience must be emulated, the treacherous,
Are the human, who have spiked me for momentous pleasures.

They call me mother to nourish my emotion to cheat me further.
They call me lonely to make me depressed to play with my treasures.
They call me generous, as I still have precious 20km high breathing air,
Whatever they flatter, my anger can't be contained in the earthen Jar.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Do I Consider Me A Senior? 2nd Version

What construes a senior, that we are no more leaner?
What construes a senior, our skin begins to look saggy?
What construes a senior, we wear clothes that are baggy?
What construes a senior, our hair has changed to grey?
What construes a senior, we go to church, we pray?
What construes a senior, we walk with bended stoop?
What construes a senior, we can't control our poop?
What construes a senior, we live in a nursing home?
What construes a senior, we don't need a comb?
What construes a senior, we have all but one tooth?
What construes a senior, medication is like a loot?
What construes a senior, feeding the pidgeons is a hoot?
What construes a senior, no solids only liquid food?
What construes a senior, the time seems to fly?
What construes a senior, we shrivel and slowly die?
What construes a senior, we learn how to survive.
What construes a senior, we do our best with our remaining life.
I am now crossover fifty,
but I am still very nifty!

poem by Philo Yan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Do I consider me a senior?

I am now fifty but I am still nifty.

What construes a senior, that we are no more leaner?
What construes a senior, our skin begins to look saggy?
What construes a senior, we wear clothes that are baggy?
What construes a senior, our hair has changed to grey?
What construes a senior, we go to church, we pray?
What construes a senior, we walk with bended stoop?
What construes a senior, we can't control our poop?
What construes a senior, we live in a nursing home?
What construes a senior, we don't need a comb?
What construes a senior, we have all but one tooth?
What construes a senior, medication is like a loot?
What construes a senior, feeding the pidgeons is a hoot?
What construes a senior, no solids only liquid food?
What construes a senior, the time seems to fly?
What construes a senior, we shrivel and slowly die?
What construes a senior, we learn how to survive
What construes a senior, we do our best with our remaining life.

[...] Read more

poem by Philo Yan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Thermometrical Ballade

There’s a wind up that licks like a flame,
And the sun is a porthole of hell.
Now evanish prim notions of shame,
And the craving to look rather well –
In pyjamas you’re never a swell,
And you’ve chosen some roomily made.
Oh! for ices these pangs to dispel –
It’s one hundred and nine in the shade!

We have limped in from tennis. That game ! –
I’d as soon with the damned where they dwell
Stoke a furnace and bathe in the same!
There’s no drink human craving to quell,
Not thin chablis nor sweet muscatel.
Never more shall we see, I’m afraid,
The cool shallows, the pale asphodel.
It’s one hundred and nine in the shade.

You recline an invertebrate frame
In the moisture your atoms expel,

[...] Read more

poem by Edward George Dyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!