A golden plate is worth nothing to me when my blood is spilled on it.
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The Breakfast
Look, the golden plate is ready set
On the round table for breakfast.
Glitters reflecting tinges of my blood
In tune with the table of mud
With the green medow streaking to fret.
Listen, worshiping Aurora at dawwn daily
Comes to me that golden plate by priority.
The green paddy rooted in deep water
Fans soothingly with its ricy flavour.
Feel, it makes golden plate more catchy.
I cook the rice to petalsoft
Adding ghee and jaggery enough to taste.
I resolve with my prayers in bundle
To offer the made rice i.e 'pongal'
To the above deity of splendid light.
On the muddy table, over the glisten
Placed a plantain leaf, served on
The pongal.I then whisper'my sun,
Enlightened by the plate of your glisten'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Have We Become...
do we fill the empty plate
with spent shells?
the empty cup with spilled blood?
do we sing of freedom
at the funerals of the children?
scratch 'equality' on their headstones?
do we sacrifice murder on the altar,
while praying to gods made of stone....
do we write infinity with an oily brush?
just what the hell have we become?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Every Penny Fed Car
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you want to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you very far at all
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't even barely leave your home
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you need to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you anywhere at all
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Penny Fed 'ar
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you want to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you very far at all
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't even barely leave your home
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you need to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you anywhere at all
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Song
She was his girl, he was her boyfriend
Shed be his wife, and make him her husband.
A surprise on the way any day any day
One healthy little giggling, dribbling baby boy
The wisemen came, three made their way
To shower him with love while he lay in the hay
Shower him with love, love, love
Love,love,love
Love,love was all around.
Not very much of his childhood was known
Kept his mother mary worried always out on his own
He met another mary, who for a reasonable fee,
Less than reputable was known to be
His heart was full of love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
When jesus christ nailed to his tree
Said oh daddy-o, I can see how it all soon will be
I came to shed a little light on this darkening sea
Instead I fear Ive spilled the blood of my children all around
The blood of my children all around
The blood of my childrens all around.
So Im told, so the story goes
The people he knew were less than golden-hearted
Gamblers and robbers,
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Like you and me, like you and me
Rumors insisted that he soon would be
For his deveations taken into custody
By the authorities, less informed than he
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Searching for love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
Preparations were made for a celebration day
He said eat this bread but think of it as me
Drink this wine and dream it will be the blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love is all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, fill me love, love, yeah
Love, love, love
Love, love, and the blood of our children all around.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't need power at the cost of spilled blood.
quote by Viktor Yanukovych
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A myth about the origin of evil
And satan said:
‘Let there be a lie! ’
And there was a lie.
It hid in the stones
Sliding from above.
And satan said:
‘Let there be hypocrisy! ’
And there was hypocrisy.
It hid in the words
Waiting to speak up.
It covered itself with cobwebs
Spiders to feed.
It hid itself from itself.
And satan said:
‘Let there be poison! ’
And there was poison.
The devils waving their swords
Spilled it from a stormy breath.
It layered on the earth
To run with its currents.
It hid within the blood.
And satan said:
‘Let there be hatred! ’
And there was hatred.
It spilled all around
Like blood that cannot clot.
It walked in tigers’ paws
And hid itself in the end
Under the cold mossy north.
And satan said:
‘Let there be a human! ’
And there was a human.
He hid in the hypocrisy and lie
The poison of hatred fed him like milk.
A pirate wrapped in his sails.
And there was a human
In beasts he hid.
And satan said:
‘Let him think I am not! ’
But it was not the way he said.
There was a lie in the beginning of his word.
Written in 1989 reconstructed in 2012.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Why should you ask blood be spilled for a cause that is not in the interest of the American people?
quote by Wally Herger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who spilled the sky /Ko je prosuo nebo
There's a frightening symmetry
In the phases of the Moon stuck
In Luna's face-the remnants of a pale mask
Red and blue blood
Running down the neck
Who spilled the sky
Who spilled black and white cartridge
On the clouds that used to play with it
Ko je prosuo nebo
Postoji zastrašujuca simetrija
U fazama Mjeseca zaglavljenog
Na Luninom lice-ostacima blijede maske
Dok joj crvena i plava krv
Teku niz vrat
Ko je prosuo nebo
Ko je poprskao plavim i crvenim punjenjem
Oblake što su se nekad
Igrali sa njim
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I am an optimist because I want to change things for the better and I know that blood has to be spilled and disharmony and cruelty are necessary to do that.
quote by Henry Rollins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Saintly Sin
There was a man dressed shabbily
in church in the same old pew.
He sat there piously and pretended to pray
but knew what he would do.
He waited patiently for the collection plate
to pass him in the pew.
He made the effort to stop the plate
and this is what he'd do.
He'd place a penny in the plate
and take two quarters out.
And as he left he'd smiled a lot
and you would hear him shout
Hallelujah Lord.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Two Hundred.
Another killed,
More blood spilled.
Yet another dead,
Now two hundred.
Tragic milestone,
Accustomed we've 'grown'.
15/08/09
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Peace, above all things, is to be desired, but blood must sometimes be spilled to obtain it on equable and lasting terms.
quote by Andrew Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is War
Bullets Fly
Good Men Die
Don't You Cry
I Will Try
Blood Is Spilled
Our King's Been Killed
I Watch You Flee
Please Don't Leave Me
You Don't Care
Life's Not Fair
You Go
My Blood Will Flow
Ever-Clear
I'll Be Here
Forever
And Ever And Ever
I Love You
That Is True
Love Is War
You Travel Far
Just To Get Away
Today Is The Day
Please Say I Don't
He Won't
Love You Like I Have
This Means War
He Won't Win
He Has Sin
Goodbye
I Won't Lie
I'll Be Back
I Don't Slack
See You Soon
At Noon.
By The Way Jade
I Won't Fade
War Kills
Love Is War.
poem by Ivy Strife
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The Man who Broke up the Dinner Party Answers
It made me feel small, like a husband,
and I never married, never owned
a table worth turning over, china
worth shattering, linen worth blood
from the cut hand I sucked and cursed
and wrapped in a torn shirt, in a pocket.
Can't they make it new again, those bees,
those communist women at their weaving?
It was only the long lines, the slow,
enforced pace, solemnity, cold white glitter;
I was only too proud to eat cold history,
to stand in the breadlines at the tomb;
I only declined the feast in the mausoleum
as Yesenin did, who wrote his regrets in blood.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Druid Revival
Maligned, tortured, killed
An ancient Shamanic Cult
Oppressed, blood spilled
'Druid revival' shall result
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Reconciliation
Minds like that...
Have been poisoned for so long.
And for all the wrong reasons,
They would rather keep their sights...
Away from light.
Defending themselves in darkness.
To continue the spread of blight.
A condemnation of others,
Has kept them in constant fights.
And a reconciliation,
Brewing to heal a bitterness...
They have intentionally inflicted.
Comes to appease.
As the Sun begins to spread,
To remove an evilness they have long fed!
But instead they choose to make excuses,
To oppose any rainbows appearing on the horizon.
Insisting that death in valor...
Is worth to maintain,
A diminishing isolation...
Hopelessly maintained,
They will defeat the odds...
And someday regain!
And still all efforts God has shown,
How they are insignificant...
And what Mother Nature does...
Has no affect.
This goes ignored...
As they infest with their insecurities,
Built upon souls of emptiness.
Although brazen and bold.
They wish to believe...
Their deceit and greed,
Somehow will succeed!
No matter how much blood is spilled.
And no matter whose blood they bleed!
As the messengers with their messages,
Go ignored.
And yet they can not see...
That these,
Are their last days to surrender their ways!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Nightingale and the Rose
The song, it echoed sweetly
This melody of purity so fine
To cause this bud to life
To cause this rose to form
The price to pay… the thorn
This precious price to pay with life
Pressed against the heart of purity
So pure this gentle heart
For in the name of love was formed
This rose so red, so rare
And with this blood so red
This sad song so sweet this night so long.
Until the thorn so sharp did pierce
This gentle feathered heart
And spilled the blood to form
This red rose, so rare.
And as her song of love grew faint
And as her life it spilled unto the rose
The dawn approached to quicken this endeavour
Lest this rose of love be less than perfect formed
As wilder grew her song so sweet of love
As bitter grew the pain as life it ebbed
So slowly born this death that does not die
So one heart grew the other passed away.
Borne on the wind this melody of song
This song so sweet to cause to life
This rose of blood, of love, of pain and tears
And yet so easily cast into a gutter.
poem by Mike Shanahan
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At A Reunion Party....
to keep the distance
we shy away from saying anything
deep within
we have so many things to say
but we are afraid
when we gather
just like last night
we were too careful
all the words seem right
the way they were used and spoken
nothing seems broken
not the sound of the plate that
fell on the floor
or the glass that spilled water on
the table
how the mantel got wet
and how each tried to clean the mess
but the fact is that
everyone is suspicious
someone is going to be destroyed
at the next moment
we hold our glasses
ready with our toasts
for good health
somehow our eyes are looking at
a different direction
vigilant and
always ready
someone is going to be destroyed tonight
and everyone sees to it that it should be the other.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Neighbours Watch
Riding the back of a sensual saint
a white tiger
was turning the human genome
into ashes.
The moon was climbing up.
Snips were becoming tainted.
Decoding the helix has brought down the god
into a module.
I am encircling the basic truth.
Sky is turning dark.
Saffron bull has broken the golden gate.
Blood is spilled on the sidewalk
lined with marigolds.
I am standing alone on a pathless beach.
Sea has sent back the harvest of grief.
From the periphery agitation starts.
Center has no choice. Absolutely
self-ending-in-self. Each breath comes discreetly
deep in the ravines of soul.
Neighbours were watching.
poem by Satish Verma
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