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The great masses of the people... will more easily fall victims to a big lie than to a small one.

quote by Adolf Hitler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great masses of the people will more easily fall victims to a big lie than to a small one.

quote by Adolf Hitler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great masses of the people... will more easily fall victims to a great lie than to a small one.

quote by Adolf Hitler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In part by their apathy, in part by their passivity, and in part actively, these masses of people make possible the catastrophes under which they themselves suffer more than anybody else. To stress this guilt on the part of masses of people, to hold them solely responsible, means to take them seriously. On the other hand, to commiserate masses of people as victims, means to treat them as small, helpless children. The former is the attitude held by genuine freedom-fighters; the latter the attitude held by the power-thirsty politicians.

quote by Wilhelm Reich
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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There Are More Stars Than Poems

There are more stars than poems-
More vast silent worlds
Than small verbal ones-
Masses and masses of mass and fire
Masses and masses of darkness and death-
And against this millions and billions of words and more little words -

More stars than poems
And far too many of both
For human comprehension

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Provocation

People in the road
I just want to spark the anger
To see how stupid you are
Easily be manipulated

People in the world
I just want to send the danger
To see how afraid you are
Easily be terrorized

People in the cloth
I just want to scratch the fire
To see how well you are
Easily be controlled

People in the slot
I just want to point the liar
To see how shock you are
Easily be distracted

And you will dance in my hand
And I will be laughing behind

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Doctor for the sick

Obsessed with their church
Looking after its masses only
Masses for their church only
Who looks after the sick?

Obsessed with the glamour
No room for the poor congregation
Looks like a house of intimidation
Although a house for the sick
Looks like some people are forgotten
Although a house for everyone
Where are the ambulances?
To fetch the sick in abundance

Obsession like sand in our eyes
Trouble disease on the out break
The sick are denied medication
Why not run spirit tests for everyone?
Maybe the virus runs amongst
The doctor, the nurse, the pharmacist…

Doctor for the sick indeed
Accidents do happen unfortunately
Victims must be brought in hopefully
Weak people must be urged to eat
True word, the only immune booster.

***The Book of End of Times

poem by Young Church
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Posting Pictures

i'm going to quit writing poetry,
and start taking pictures...
pictures of the homeless,
the jobless, the hungry,
the war victims, drug victims,
crime victims, victims of oppressive
regimes, beaten, imprisoned, threatened...
starting right here!

the elderly left to die in want,
those left to live on the street,
families sleeping in cars,
parents burying their children...
smoke stacks smoking,
nuclear disasters, oil spills,
mountains being mined,
timber being cut...

lonely people walking alone!
small children crying...
lovers left in the cold...
empty churches full of people.

i'm going to post these pictures in color
for all the world to see,
post them in dead silence...
maybe then someone will hear,
hear, and offer a hand!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Developing Their Defensive Team

Why are people quick to run,
To someone with a telling...
Of what is being done to them.
As they portray themselves as victims.

Few people would ask,
What it was they've done.
And why they were chosen to become,
'Willing' victims.

I use to take sides with people who cried.
Those who confide in me with their version,
Of reality.
But most folks are just not that honest,
When developing their defensive team.
Only to eventually find themselves quarantined.
Truth has a way to reveal,
What from others is intentionally meant to go unseen.
Or heard from one who attempts to another to demean.

Why are people quick to run,
To someone with a telling...
Of what is being done to them.
As they portray themselves as victims.
Why?
Because they are bona fide liars.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Could Easily Fall In Love With You

Aum aum aum aum
Aum aum aum aum
If you should tell me that I'll always be,
The one you'll always love so true.
Then I can tell you I could easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
It wasn't long ago I saw you there.
But even then I thought I knew,
That given half a chance I'd easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
I've been too long on my ownsome now.
I've been too long by myself.
I couldn't feel more lonesome now.
If I was left on the shelf.
Don't ever change that smile you're smiling now.
And please don't let me see you blue.
Then I can tell you oh so easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
I've been too long on my ownsome now.
I've been too long by myself.
I couldn't feel more lonesome now.
If I was left on the shelf.
Don't ever change that smile you're smiling now.
And please don't let me see you blue.
Then I can tell you oh so easily,
"I could easily fall in love with you."
Aum aum aum aum
Aum aum aum aum

song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wrong Brush

From his horse he has had a vision,
A diverted interruption, we used to say.
No suffering there, their pain is rules,
Ones to explain to the masses.

Taking the wrong brush, colours fall
From the palette, so commanding,
Rousing no feeling, in every small atom,
Very close to feeling the vibration.

The very tears close and open,
To imagine a dramatic great man
Requires an artist’s touch of the pen,
Instead the art of writing is complete.

poem by Naveed Akram
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It may be easily shown, and is of no small significance, that the two great ideas of which the Anglo-Saxon is the exponent are having a fuller development in the United States than in Great Britain.

quote by Josiah Strong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victims No More

Victims No more on this Mother Earth,

No More killing of her

people, animals, mammals, fish and birds,

to them she has given birth.

Yes, victims no more,

For all of us as one,

what you do unto the innocent

with your weapons,

has devastating repercussions.

From a standpoint of victims you make us your slaves,

bringing all of us to an early grave.

No Victims of the Sea,

the sea creatures are meant to have a destiny,

and swim in an ocean that is clean.

No one is here to have their homes taken away from them,

be it through pollution of oil from which it stems.

This oil drilling has to end.

So put down your weapons.

Copyright 2010 Christina Surnise

www.purplepoems.com

poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victims No More

Victims No more on this Mother Earth,
No More killing of her

people, animals, mammals, fish and birds,
to them she has given birth.
Yes, victims no more,
For all of us as one,
what you do unto the innocent

with your weapons,

has devastating repercussions.
From a standpoint of victims you make us your slaves,
bringing all of us to an early grave.
No Victims of the Sea,
the sea creatures are meant to have a destiny,

and swim in an ocean that is clean.

No one is here to have their homes taken away from them,
be it through pollution of oil from which it stems.
This oil drilling has to end.

So put down your weapons.
Copyright 2010 Christina Surnise

poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abuse

Should people tell
when they know something is not right
should people tell
when they know it for a fact

Should they turn a blind eye
like most people do
or should they tell what is true

Is it a case of
how many secrets
how many lies
how many victims
how many die
because people turn a blind eye

Tell someone today
don't let the victims pay

poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loyalty Does Not Come Cheap

We are all victims of the circumstances around us and,
Your lips took mine in the name of love!
But, what is written is already written.

Bedtime delights and bedtime love,
Bedtime stories and bedtime acts;
And like the bold and the beautiful with,
The glory of the hearts to share with each other.

The sex of the unborn child is like,
The very name of the unborn child!
But, the eleventh rain comes to make us fall asleep;
However, in this world, people call sin enjoyment.

Loyalty does not come cheap in this world,
With money at hand to put your back to the ground!
And, you have to buy your way through at times.

No matter how great or how strong a person is,
We still have enemies around us! !
However, exotic are your moves on this love;
But, we are all victims of the circumstances in this world.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Soul

Small soul’s alone in the night
It’s small
But it’s still a soul
The tiny light
That shines in the dark

Small soul glows dim in the fight
It’s small
But it’s really a soul
Though it looks weak
It’s struggling inside

Small soul keeps attracting my heart
It’s small
But it’s a beautiful soul
It may easily disappear
But it could also grow stronger

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Town

Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joyce

The poesy inspiration to her comes easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea
Sharing with the universe her great gift of joy
She will live forever her sort never die.

In February in England the morning fields are gray
But her poems fresh and lovely as the first flowers of May
And though the flowers of Summer will be long gone by Fall
Joyce's poems will live on and verse lovers will recall

How she make many happy with her gift of song
Her verses light and breezy they just float along
Like a windblown feather in the Summer air
Floating in the heaven's free of any care.

She's one in a billion people like her rare
Joyce Hemsley from Sunderland her great gift of poetry share
With all lovers of poetry, she's known far and wide
Greatness of the lady cannot be denied.

She has written so much verse and all of her verse is good
Quite uncomplicated and easily understood
And to her inspiration comes quite easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me Why...

Why do people fight?
Why can’t they just unite?
Why is the world a mess?
Why can’t people confess?
Why are people faultily tough?
When they pretend to be friends but intend to bluff
Why is the world on a string and ready to fire up?
When you know that it’s drinking each step through every sup
Why can’t the world be single flagged?
Instead of its occupation like a being plagued
Why can’t our people assist and be kind?
Why is the call for equality amongst humans hard to find?
When people unite and hinder the fall
People can reside together, in which in every state
There is no country too great
And no nation too small.

poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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2,000 Years Of History! !

2,000 years of history!
2,000 years of history! !
2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily.
From the constitution of the Olympic Gods inot Olympic Games,
And from the mystery God of december 25th into Christmas;
But,2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily.
Oh! ! What a Babylonian Train of Constantaine to cover the truth of the Zion Train today;
For, the quest of knowledge had really blinfolded my people!
With no reward of positivity to the heaven of heavens;
For, the masses are now giving glory to 'Semiramis'! ! !
Who, through her schemes became the 'Babylonian Queen Of Heaven'.
Yes,2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily!
And, the Romans based their letters on the Greek Alphabets;
Which are still in use today,
So, learn from the truth only and come out of this deceived world and be saved.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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