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I gotta run...
Craving for the blue moon
Glued on to the sky and I,
Run for fun and sing to sink
I gotta run…
I gotta sing…
Elicit elite out my way for you
Glued on to the mind and I,
Run for fun and its fun to sink
I gotta run…
I gotta sink…
So deep and I get hold of thy art,
Glued on to these pebbles and I,
Run for fun and sing to sink
I gotta run…
I gotta rise…
All the way holding on to you…
Glued on to you and I rise…
A long way to reach the shore…
I gotta run…
I gotta sing…
I gotta rise…
I gotta…
poem by Nithin Jacob
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dr. Donohue
If you can't believe Dr. Donohue
in his syndicated column
when he addresses matters medical,
then 'whom, ' as my mother
would have said, 'can you believe? '
Fair enough, I thought.
And so when recently the doctor told
a reader not to worry
even though her 'stools float, '
I took comfort.
Apparently, she had read
that floating stools are symptomatic
of a strange condition often dangerous.
I hope Dr. Donohue is right
because if not, I've got a problem.
Not all my stools float, but the lunkers do.
And what if on a given day a lunker leaps
like a dolphin capering in a Florida bay
and crashes against my bathroom ceiling?
What do I do then, Doc, duck?
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is Not All
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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A Sinking Soul
sink
sink
sink
sink
my
soul
to
sleep
at
the
bottom
of
the
dream
find
your
self
know
your
self
sink
sink
sink
m y
soul
why
are
you
so
silen t?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On An Ill-Managed House
LET me thy properties explain:
A rotten cabin dropping rain:
Chimneys, with scorn rejecting smoke;
Stools, tables, chairs, and bedsteads broke.
Here elements have lost their uses,
Air ripens not, nor earth produces:
In vain we make poor Sheelah toil,
Fire will not roast, nor water boil.
Through all the valleys, hills, and plains,
The Goddess Want, in triumph reigns:
And her chief officers of state,
Sloth, Dirt, and Theft, around her wait.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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To Quilca, A Country-House in no very good Repair
Let me thy Properties explain,
A rotten Cabin, dropping Rain;
Chimnies with Scorn rejecting Smoak;
Stools, Tables, Chairs, and Bed-steds broke:
Here Elements have lost their Vses,
Air ripens not, nor Earth produces:
In vain we make poor Sheelah toil,
Fire will not roast, nor Water boil.
Thro' all the Vallies, Hills, and Plains,
The Goddess Want in Triumph reigns;
And her chief Officers of State,
Sloth, Dirt, and Theft around her wait.
poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Acts And Arts
A message to the Adonetenhene,
A message to the Nkantahene,
A message to the Nkosohene,
A message to the Akoforehene,
A message to the Atimpimhene,
A message to the Akyempimhene,
To exercise decorum on your stools;
Because the tidal waves of the sea is like,
The messages from your stools!
A message to the Tepahene,
A message to the Omanhene,
Like a woman who is at the threshing floor;
So, try to redeeem the land and this woman too.
I know what i am writing and saying,
Because i am a woman too;
And o spread out your hands ín prayer is what i know,
Like the firstling of a donkey which shall bwe redeeemed with a lamb.
To you i do write oh Rulers of this land,
For Yahweh want it so and so shall it be;
But, there is no one like Yahweh!
Of the secret acts and arts in your traditional areas,
Of the power of your works that we do see as well;
But the first of the moon of the year is Abib,
And it is the moon of green Ears of Barley.
Do your best oh Rulers of this land and,
Let us enjoy the fruits of your Kingdoms;
And to exercise the decorum on your stools matters to me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rise, Rise to the Occasion
Rise, rise to the occasion
Rise, rise to the invitations of life
Oh rise, rise to the music of joy
Uh rise, rise to the victory over strife!
This is the time for you to march forward
Oh son of the Mighty! Valor is the key
This is the urgency to show courage abundant
Oh daughter of Energy! Courage is the key
Rise, rise to the tide and rise to the low
Defeat lethargy and defeat fear
Mind the goal and attain it
The guts are here and the glory is here
Face the challenge, embrace it
Cross the puddles and the furrows
Calm the heart and fight the battle
Celebration’s for you – not the sorrows
Rise, rise then, rise O bright!
Rise, rise then to the right
Tire not, rise till the end of the path
Rise, rise then to all the might!
poem by Bhaswat Chakraborty
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Ill Sink Manhattan
Ill sink manhattan
Right under the sea
Ill find the sweetest spot to watch
As it goes away
You were so happy
With the things that you said
Like, hes my lower half, you laughed
But youre going to cry
A river of tiny tears flow from your crocodile eyes
Too late to apologize, I say, as flood waters rise
Ill sink manhattan
Ill sacrifice friends
I think theyd understand my plan
Ill never be sure
Ive got a message
So before I get through
Ill find your answering machine
And Ill sink it first
Burn your forget-me-nots
Admit that true love can die
No, I wont apologize, my love, just kiss me goodbye
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fight It Back
On them white horses
We come marching through the fields
We think were kings
When we come across the field of deeds
But we should know
That the trophy that we carry is the head
Of mi brother that has paid with his life
And now he is dead
We got a typhoon on the rise
Typhoon on the rise
We got a typhoon on the rise
Typhoon on the rise
We gotta fight it back
We gotta get it on the run
We gotta fight it back
Here comes the future
The fire thats burning as bright as the sun
Fight it back
How come we cant realize
That what we do in this is wrong
We got to get of this ship of fools
It will sink before long
We cant accept that
The man of wetbones is still on the streets
We have to get our act together
And get up on the feet
We got a typhoon on the rise
Typhoon on the rise
We got a typhoon on the rise
Typhoon on the rise
We gotta fight it back
We gotta get it on the run
We gotta fight it back
Here comes the future
The fire thats burning as bright as the sun
Fight it back
song performed by by E-type
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rise Up
rise up and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
we've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Everybody's come a long long way
such a long way ,to be here today
we're going hard ,giving it all
we've been knocking on wood with our backs to the walls
we've been working every day and night
waiting for the chance for the day to arrive
and now we've all got something to prove
win or lose, there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Inside the sweat, inside the heat
in each and every heart there's a pounding beat
to do it wrong, to do it right
each of us has put up, one hell of a fight
and as we face the final test
all that we can do is to do our best
and as we're making time stand still
to get to the top you've got to give all you've got
You've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up
Shine a light and let them see
everything you want to be
Shine a light and let them know
you are never letting go
Rise up... win or lose there's only one thing to do
We've got to rise up
and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up
Rise, and fly like eagles
rise up through the sky
you've got to rise up
over higher mountains
rise up, rise up, rise up, rise up,
over higher mountains, rise,
We've got to rise up.
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Shall Rise
(traditional/emmylou harris)
In that resurrection morning
When the trumpet of God shall sound
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
Then the saints will come rejoicing and
No tears will eer be found
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise (amen)
We shall rise, (hallelujah)
In that resurrection morning
When these prison bars are broken
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In that resurrection morning
When the shades of life has fled
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In the day of glory dawning when the sea
Gives up his dead
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
I shall see my blessed savior
Who so freely died for me
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
And our fathers and our mothers and our
Loved ones we shall see
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down
THERE is always hope
when things go down when you sink and shrink
like a coin flip flopping to the depths
of the storm
as one little boy watches yourself
with pity
and perhaps awe
because there is hope
for those that go down the only
tendency
is always to go up
for those that sink
the only hope is to rise
for those that shrink
they grow again on the interstices
of little spaces beneath
and within
and for those that flip flop
the only thing that you see
is the beauty of that
dance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walking Tables
How do tables walk as one?
And why do chairs seem to run?
How my rest is desired, and how
Do I kick in the air for relaxation?
My chimney is found with the soot
Of a black utterance, as seemly as light;
The light travels up and down the world,
With smoke, crime is committed, like walking
Chairs and turning tables, this world is one.
With this house may I live alone,
Where wolves like criminals detest you.
Anyone walked a long distance, anyway,
Justice must be allowed, and searched
By the home and heaven.
How do tables and chairs move?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Time~
Time waits for no one
Tick tocking itself along
Even measured seconds
Morphing into minutes
Minutes into hours
Into days, months
And, yes years;
Where did it all?
Down the drain?
Much like the water
Draining in the sink...
This sink that we call life
This sink that once held it all...
The sink, my sink, once full now empty
Down the drain
Kind of like my life;
By, Theodora Onken
November 15,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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The King Of The Chairs
no matter how qualified
and competent is the king of the chairs
to the mind of the table
the king of the chairs
will always remain as only one
of its serving knights.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Library
Drowsing on the chair at six in the evening,
I sat in the library.
Attendant came to put the lights on.
Some chairs after days work were lucky to be empty,
While some were occupied.
I felt the chair feel uneasy.
Uneasiness passed on to the scholars
They moved here and there.
The chair cried in pain.
No one could hear, but I could feel
White dove the chairs messanger came
It shouted, "Let them rest".
Because what they were pursuing was not wisdom but knowledge
There dull minds were unaware
The dove went, I went too, but the chairs suffered there.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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