Don't break your shins on your neighbors' pots.
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These Are Our Neighbors
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Knockingdownwhatcanbefoundtogetnothin gdone.
Takingoutofcontextwithawishfailurecomes!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithm orelies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindis guise.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes...
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Offered are no alternatives.
But complaints are voiced and heard.
Suggestions they have none.
But they come with venom,
On their tongues.
Exposing the teeth of wolves...
Seeking tender meat,
To consume and run!
Pickinguptheirtelephonestogossipwithmorel ies.
Hopingwhatissaidwillkeepthetruthindisguis e.
To keep deceit and defeat on the rise!
And these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
Yes these are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
And these are our neighbors...
Every one.
These are my neighbors.
These are your neighbors.
These are our neighbors...
Every one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who stumbles twice over one stone deserves to break his shins.
Grant Us Peace, Father of Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael
Grant us peace,
that we may not oppress our neighbors
Grant us justice,
that we may not enslave our neighbors
Grant us sanity,
that we may not torture our neighbors
Grant us mercy,
that we may not murder our neighbors
Grant us conscience
that we may not expel our neighbors
Grant us love,
that we may hunger for truth
Grant us discernment
that we may know what is ours, and what is not
Grant us decency
that we may return what we stole
Grant us courage
that we may admit what we’ve done
Give us strength to atone.
Ask only
that we end our silence.
Prajapati or prajapita
Can potter ever slaughter?
His own work as creator
He is called father of mankind
And go on making shapes of different kind
He is also known as clay maker
Another name given for him as "prajapita"* or creator
As almighty creates entire human race
You may find with him pots of different shapes
Not all the pots survive
As not all the children live
In this world and meet the fate
Some may come early and some may come late
You will not find single person of same appearance
Even if found it will be one in million chance
You can never find identical nose and face
Where as there is limited scope to make it from base
How can we forget our own creator?
Who has given us everything as our real mentor?
If all his creations survive successfully
Then there won't be any place left to love peacefully
Many pots break during process
Many break while finding access
Yet some of them come out to find the world
Remind us of power that has been lying in his fold
Not only he is known for his creative work
But exclaimed for exemplary show pieces work
His hand moves without any measurement
To be precise and near to precision instrument
I love to praise his ability to shape
He has no thesis or roads on the map
It is purely human instinct to perfection
The art pieces speak of excellent action
* Prajapati or prajapita…. The father of human race
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overthrow (The Working Poor)
overthrow...
the weight of the world
on the bent shoulders
of the working poor.
empty pots, and
nowhere to lay your head...
pulling bent nails
with a borrowed hammer
from a tumbling down shack!
overthrow...
if you cant change it,
break it! take it back!
break free of the cage!
though the guns are pointed,
stand up and dare!
nothing left to lose,
and everything to gain...
overthrow..
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Boy Blues
Fireflies in dogfights
Runnin hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe--so head out
My hearts in the country
My feets in the city with you
All my friends are eatin sushi
Talkin bad about you know who-who-who
My tongues talkin riddles
But I just cant seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
And jump into the saddle with you-you-you
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Cats in the alley
Rats in my snakeskin boots
All my neighbors think Im crazy
And my girl thinks Im losin my cool-cool-cool
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Dont look to jesus to change your seasons
Its the american dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Cant seem to find no peace--so head out
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The correlative to loving our neighbors as ourselves is hating ourselves as we hate our neighbors.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is through this mysterious power that we too have our being, and we therefore yield to our neighbors, even to our animal neighbors, the same right as ourselves to inhabit this vast land.
quote by Sitting Bull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even in these times, there are still neighbors that will turn their backs on neighbors.
quote by Wynton Marsalis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While the level of support we can each provide certainly varies, it is very important at this time that we all do what we can to help our neighbors - not only our immediate neighbors here in Alabama, but those further away in Mississippi and Louisiana.
Gypsy Tinker's unmask face
The old man is travelling along the road and his menders of pots and pans.
Besides money he collects meals as goodwill from the goody-goodies to his starving family.
There are leakages in his pots and pans but he neglects to mend them.
Whoever comes to his shack?
Wholeheartedly who agrees his plight?
If the Nobel prize they decided to grant for a spontaneous smile?
The priority should go to this unsophisticated soul.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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November Narcissus
Four white fingers break ground
Lime green nails hunger scratch heaven
Each set bulbous...pots silver three
Narcissus blind to looking glass delight
Gold glory comes creeping night
poem by Boink Boink
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It that lies not in your gate, breaks not your shins.
He that hes no geir to tine, hes shins to pine.
Say what you want about long dresses, but they cover a multitude of shins.
The Headlong Pursuit
we
let
the
headlong
pursuit
of
the
American
dream...
destroy
the
American
ideal....
forgetting that neighbors
need neighbors
to make a life!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You cook vegetable soup
You cook vegetable soup
and I look at you
while you cut green beans,
carrots, onions, celery, parsley
and tomatoes into two pots.
There are herbs, spices
and pepper that you are scattering
and two types of soup powder
that you throw in
and the pots steam and buzz
while I am washing the dishes
and the smell
makes me hungry
and I wonder
if the soup
are going to taste as good
as it smells.
We drink tee
and there’s medicine
that you give for flu
to me
and it’s great
to be with you
to read the look
in your beautiful eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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