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Curses
Curses may belittle the mailing of thoughts
That are derived by the eye of intelligence.
Curses made munching a task by the wrong spider,
A slave-animal hasn’t got too many fleas.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Bp Blues
I'm feelin' rather dreary
totally blan
but no one seems to hear me
or wants to understand
I'm not that crazy
just want to be heard
just sitting here ramblin'
like an old buzzard
too young to be fat
too prideful to be pitied
too old to complain
too smart to be unfocussed
too depressed to be insane
poem by Lydia J. McFarland
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The Connaughtman Returning
There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
It blinds my eyes, mavrone, and stops my breath;
And I travel slow that once could run the swiftest,
And I fear ere I meet Mauryeen I'll meet Death.
There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
And a grey fog dogs my footsteps as they go,
And it's long and sore to tread, the road to Connaught.
Is it fault of brogues or feet I fare so slow?
There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
But the Connaught wind will blow it from my way,
And a Connaught girl will kiss it from my memory,
If the Death that walks beside me will delay.
(There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
And no wind comes to break its stillness deep;
And a Connaughtman lies on the road to Connaught,
And Mauryeen will not kiss him from his sleep-Ululu!)
poem by Nora Jane Hopper Chesson
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A Square Poem
Reading this poem vertically (the first word of each line, then the second word of each line and so on) yields the same poem as resding it in the normal way.
I often wondered when I cursed,
Often feared where I would be—
Wondered where she'd yield her love,
When I yield, so will she.
I would her will be pitied!
Cursed be love! She pitied me ...
poem by Lewis Carroll
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Two Mutes In The Press Room
The two mutes we hired
to wheel hot type
are bickering again
Their fingers
quicker than beaks of cocks
tear the air
with perfect curses
tongues never utter
ears never hear
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Letter from Devil
this battle
for heaven
and hell
how easily god
has signed you
over to me
a windfall
for a deal
sealed
from your
head to toe
for me
to get
on with
my scheme
each cell
encrypted
with a stamp
for my triumph
a cosy nest
for my device
to brighten up hell
to hear your scream,
your curses
a dungeon of desire
consumed by my fire
how easily
god has signed you
over to me
sealing you up
in a sea
of desires
trapping you
in a prison
where I hold the key
both in and out
this world and next
each of your cell
cries out to me
for fulfillment
gratification
buddha was right
so were all
the prophets
this realm
the dungeons of desires
that light up my realm
the fire, i love the fire
i love the scream
the scream of hatred, curses
how easily god
has signed you over to me
from head to toe
down to your very cell
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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He Walks Between Her Legs
between her legs
he walks through her
she is sleepy
he is bored
she is ready
he is crazy
what you cannot see
and hear later
is the pointing of his finger
to her face
she curses him
she cries
he apologizes later
and then the usual embrace
the kiss
and soft whispers
and then he goes inside her
she groans
he fits
in her open.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Descending
Have mercy baby
Im descending again
Open your eyes
This time its sink or its swim
No sermons on ascending
No verdict on deceit
No selfish memorandum
No confusion for me
Chorus:
Curses
Curses and clues
A feast for fools
Have mercy baby
And hand me downs
It was just a few years ago
Youd hand me ups and map
Right out of town
But I would let it slide
Like mercury
Silver and quick
Poisonous and deadly
So deadly
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Justice is done by Him
Crying for His benediction
Thou lost somewhere
in the crowd of
Thy filthy desires.
Thou served thy petty self-interest
Amidst curses and sins,
Now thou wish to amend
When thy flesh is leaving thy bones,
When thy light is fading,
Thou art scared of Thy palsy,
Thy ruin,
Thy never ending
pain
Thou art at the threshold of
Thy final destination.
Now thou will never get respite
From thy misfortune,
Until thou art forgiven by them
Whose curses thou invited
For justice is done by Him.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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It is better to be envied than pitied.
quote by Herodotus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Right The Wrong
An indian woman buried her grampa in the black hills
When she was young he used to tell her
That these hills belonged to her still
And even though injustice took them hills away
One day well get them back, he said
And the suns gonna shine that day
When we say, right the wrong
Before she laid him down to rest
She heard his voice in the wilderness
Sayin I got six feet of it back
And now we can right the wrong
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Before long u wont hear nothin but the crackle of flames
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Would u rather die knowing that u did or keep living in shame
Did you hear the one about the boy just 17
Three years hard time for stealing ice cream
First offence and all his dreams are gone
How long before they right the wrong?
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Before long u wont hear nothin but the crackle of flames
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Would u rather die knowing that u did or keep living in shame
Right the wrong
2, 3, uh
1, 2, 1-2, come on
(right the wrong baby)
Far be it from me to say
It seem like we could stop the flow of snow in the sky today
But I guess the weather man he likes the rain
Aint that insane
Now sing
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Before long u wont hear nothin but the crackle of flames
Right the wrong
Hear the song
Would u rather die knowing that u did or keep living in shame?
(come on, come on, come on)
Did you hear me baby?
Right the wrong
Im 6 feet in the grave
Im 6 feet in the grave
(right right, right right)
(right the wrong right the wrong)
(right the wrong right the wrong)
Right the wrong (right the wrong right the wrong)
(right the wrong right the wrong)
(right the wrong right the wrong)
(right the wrong right the wrong)
Right the wrong (right the wrong right the wrong)
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust (right the wrong right the wrong)
This young man with a talented soul (right the wrong right the wrong)
Died when he wanted 2. (right the wrong right the wrong)
The [life/light]that lives (right the wrong right the wrong)
So he shall not be pitied
Nor shall the guity be forgiven
Until they find it in their hearts to
Right the wrong
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evangeline
(robbie robertson)
She stands on the banks of the mighty mississippi
Alone in the pale moonlight
Waitin for a man, a riverboat gambler
Said that hed return tonight
They used to waltz on the banks of the mighty mississippi
Lovin the whole night through
He was a riverboat gambler off to make a killin
And bring it on back to you
Evangeline evangeline
Curses the soul of the mississippi queen
That pulled her man away
Bayou sam from south louisian
Had gamblin in his veins
Evangeline from the maritime
Was slowly goin insane
High on the top of a hickory hill
She stands in the lightning and thunder
Down on the river the boat was a sinkin
She watched that queen go under
Evangeline evangeline
Curses the soul of the mississippi queen
That pulled her man away
Evangeline evangeline
Curses the soul of the mississippi queen
That pulled her man away
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cushions
Each one has got a set of grouse
Against people, events and rules.
Natural justice is elusive.
Curses are the alternatives.
Each one would compare and compete
To end up being dejected.
His solace is assessing lapses
From those better placed than him.
Each one consoles himself feeling
That he is still good in some respects
And waits for others’ downfall
Cursing for the self denial.
Each one resigns himself to the fact
That life is not fair to all and
That existence works in a mystery.
Fate and luck are the assigned roles.
Each one is helpless about future,
Taking credit for the success
And blaming others for failures.
Regrets and curses are cushions.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How much better a thing it is to be envied than to be pitied.
Those who do not complain are never pitied.
quote by Jane Austen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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