Quotes about tweet, page 5
Meme
a lamp that kept in the darkness of the past, live
in the shadow of death, may this parody of life be
not the greatest ensemble of what is reality the
world believe
lampooned made of sharp dagger hole in the
deepest chamber of our society lambasted the
essence of what is truth have come to dug in the
outmost paragon of the heart
shaken and rattles, the icon of genuine hope out
tune the hymn that praise the hilarious orchestra
of sacredness of belief; where the sleeping pure
heart smashes the epitome of what is salvation in
human form
dare the pumping palpitation of the pulse the siren
of life wake the turmoil of sadness of time, hinted
to peep the endless fire of hell, where gnashing of
eye and teeth shower the splendid bubble of agony
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poem by Antonio Liao
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What Of The Person Remains?
WHAT OF THE PERSON REMAINS?
What of the person remains?
For tens of thousands of years
Not even a bone.
For a few thousand
For a few a name and a story,
And for most, dust and nothingness.
But then
Portrait and family history
Photographs and then films
Clips of a life.
And now more and more detail
Everyman immortalized in each tweet and twitter
Eternity in an electronic file.
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Cat's Cry
In the place I knew and visited
So often and even rested
I wondered why I heard a cat's cry
As if trying to say some 'Hi'
I looked left and right
But could not see a slight
No cat or whatever to see
Only imagined by me?
Yet I was sure as hell
And could swear or tell
That I had heard that sweet
Short like a bird's tweet
Ah! There it is once more
This time I am very sure
It's quite loud and plain
And coming again and again
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poem by Dr Avinash Dal
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I Had A Talk With A Woman Just A While Ago
I had a talk with a woman just a while ago
Well, she is not just a woman,
She is that woman
The other woman,
That he always brags about,
Witty, witty, tweedy, tweet,
& shitty
To me, forgive me, but she is
Witty too, wait,
I wish him dead and for weeks I will be wearing black
Custom,
Tradition they say,
It will be my color of good riddance
Of this bastard of that woman
Sleeping in bed squeezing some drops of life
To lengthen that sense of agony,
Waiting on a chair
In a hospital room as though I am a passenger
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Beautiful Game
As you step on to the muddy field,
You feel the joy rise inside you,
The crowd roars as the players take up there positions;
And your team gets ready to kick off.
As the game commence all nervousness is lost,
Replaced by a sudden adrenaline rush,
The play goes back and forth, forth and back;
But you run on still,
nothing else concerns you but the ball.
It goes on as such for many minutes,
Until your rivals get a chance,
Your goalie tries but to your despair the ball finds the back of the net;
The crowd boos in anger and frustration.
The very next play the ball comes to you,
You run up the wing blasting by defender after defender,
You see an opening in the keeper’s defences;
You wind up to shoot and…
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poem by Joseph Conlan
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Instant karma
You want conversations per detoxications
Intellyjelly fish to glide
Right to your side to be satisfied
You want crowns and clowns
And kings to sing
Queens to declaim fools to disdain
Pages to feed you messengers to speed you
You want pills to refill
Your cures obscure
In ill cups and taps
Hats and caps
You want plumbers to leek
Down the tubes and a freak
Your flaws to mend
Some life to recommend
Some booze to choose
A sip to amuse
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Lonely Bird and I
my little bird
is still in its cage
for years
i never hear it tweet
a happy song
i know it has kept
that song for years
but i never ask
it to sing it for me
i like to set it free
but it has learned
to love its solitude
in the cage
birds from the fields
on early mornings
seduce it to come out
and fly with them
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Breach Of Innocence-the Road Kill
One sunny noon, while chasing butterflies you &me,
Tried to unravel the mystery of the birds &the bees,
We stopped at some broken wings, lying on the ground, splattered,
Blackish red. To divert your attention I said,
“See! , There goes a butterfly in your favorite color,
Pink petals above your head hover.”
But you didn’t move &stood there
Watching, the first sight of destruction &its dark face.
Asked me where the bird went if it lay at your feet
Tattered like your ragged doll, with no tweet,
Its feathers spread, its face vacant, so still, awake.
You asked me, “If it still lay there within”
“Why it lay there so dirty, muddied.”
“Why doesn’t God clean it up? It’s a poor small bird.”
Questions I have searched answers for an entire life,
Your innocence springs open the Pandora’s Box.
In detail we inspect & see the ants have a galore,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Smile! :) ?
Smile...whenever you are free
Just have a walk somewhere near sea..
A smile for u to kip calm and in ease
This smile, that makes u feel like a cool breeze..
A smile when there`s no place to accommodate
Give A smile even when there`s no time to celebrate..
Smile when your wardrobe is has nothing new
Wear something differently from that existing hue..
A smile..to impress
U should have for you to dress..
Smile when your friends turn lazy
That's the time when u start acting crazy..
The smile when u rise up in d crowd
Is the one which makes u feel proud..
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poem by Darshil Sanghvi
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~ Ma Mama Ma Mama Ma Maaaa! ~
~ Ma Mama Ma Mama Ma Maaaa! ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
23 November 2010
Into ~ After reading several comments I humbly give backdropp of this poem.
In poetry much experimentation are going on and critiques are categorizing in various ways like Realism Surrealism Modernism Romanticism etc.
To be honest no poetry can be canopied under one canvas and there will be pits where other flavors fill up.
Here I’ve used Satire Rasa [please Google for meaning] in anxious canvas ~ niv
Is Poetry
Frame n’ fill
Or
Fill n’ frame
Or both or none
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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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