Even though the peel of the palm nut has no pulpy substance in it, it is stripped off all the same.
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Like the Sound of Bells
To touch you 'there'
Would mean so much.
To lift your feet,
From thick restrictions haunting.
Your tears keep you cloaked
With unwanted burdens on your shoulders.
I 'see' this with my heart that feels.
I'd like to remove...
Whatever is there,
Peel by peel!
Wanting to hear your laughter ring...
Like the sound of bells to all with appeal!
To touch you 'there'
Would mean so much!
You have substance.
You have beauty.
With a voice that sparkles...
And this 'has' to be revealed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Skin
This is someone elses story
Someone that I never knew
This is someone elses body
Am I getting through to you
If you peel away the armor is something underneath
If you look below for hidden treasure underneath another layer
Are you hiding underneath the skin
Chorus
If you peel away the skin is there anybody there
If you peel away the skin is there anybody there
If you peel away the armor is it too late to begin
Is there anybody hiding if you peel away the skin
Now a spark has passed between us now
A momentary recognition
Something lost and something gained
And something shared that feels strange
Something cold that will not go away
Theres a heart as cold as ice
In a vault thats made of stone
Over years the walls got higher
Over years the walls have grown
Is there anybody in there in this self inflicted tomb
If you peel away the layers is there someone in this room
If you peel away the skin, if you peel away the skin
This is someone elses story
Someone that I never knew
This is someone elses body
Am I getting through to you
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Layers Of My Existence
peel me, not like an onion where you shall cry for every
layer, no, i do not require tears here, at most, you may need
only to smile, and then be so patient, as you peel me
layer by layer, as i watch, and as you carefully peel me
with your bare hands, i will allow it, all for you and your
curiousity,
you discover the erotic layer
and in there exists the desire
for an adventure, the disregarding
of sin, and then peel me further
move on,
find the layer of my
intellect, you shall find what i have
told you all about, my nerves and
common sense, my strivings to go
deeper towards my self, and then
peel me further, you see the bone
of my contentions, my hardened
principles and uncompromises
then peel me further, find the
marrow that makes all the blood
of my life, my sorrows and pains,
my exhilarations and bliss and
joys and happiness, and you will
say there is nothing more to find.
you are wrong. There is this last
peel that you cannot see. It is like
air, and it floats and it gets in,
it always finds an empty space,
and you cannot find it there anymore,
it is now inside you and you cannot
get that out of your system
you must accept this:
i have become
an essential part of you, and there is
nothing now that you can do.
you see, in peeling me, you find
no exit anymore. Whether you
you will be happy or sad, it is
already beyond my control.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stripped Away
Fuel - Stripped Away
I must have left my soul cracked open
like a door. . .
in the night. . .
Seizing the opportunity
while i lay there sleeping
all the beggars and thieves walked in
and they stole
all i stored inside
I woke to find
a shell of a man
and all i had once believed . . .
Stripped away . . .
Stripped away
Well i sat at Satan's table
and I drank the wine
in a feast of revelry
Till my eyes were red and swollen
and my soul was so held with stains
that just won't come clean
and i tell myself
that i am in youth
What all i could achieve
Stripped away . . .
Stripped away
Well i stared at my own reflection
But i know that those eyes can't be me
My sprit floats in desperation
on dreams like I've never seen
So i reach for you
and draw you near
and pray that you won't be. . .
Stripped away
Stripped away
song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Agreement Called Forever
Cave in and try to take away
All that I have, all I betray...
So much damage I've done
Well this I know, that I just fail
Turn me on me
Turn me on me
'Cause this is everything I've stripped away
I've stripped away
This is me, well this I know
This is me, well is it?
Well the youth has certainly gone away
and at times I'd like to erase...
Please don't see that I can't have loyalty
'Cause I just fail.
Turn me on me
Turn me on me
'Cause this is everything I've stripped away
I've stripped away
And I have tried to sit you down and take the fall
look you in the eye and tell you it all
And I have tried to sit you down and take the fall
To look you in the eye and tell you it all..I fail.
'Cause this is everything I've stripped away
I've stripped away
This is me, well this I know
This is me.
I fail...
'Cause this is everything I've stripped away
I've stripped away.
song performed by by 36 Crazyfists
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always define whatever it is we perceive—to trace its outline—so we can see what it really is: its substance. Stripped bare. As a whole. Unmodified. And to call it by its name—the thing itself and its components, to which it will eventually return.
quote by Marcus Aurelius
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Pleasures
I like to find
what's not found
at once, but lies
within something of another nature,
in repose, distinct.
Gull feathers of glass, hidden
in white pulp: the bones of squid
which I pull out and lay
blade by blade on the draining board--
tapered as if for swiftness, to pierce
the heart, but fragile, substance
belying design. Or a fruit, mamey,
cased in rough brown peel, the flesh
rose-amber, and the seed:
the seed a stone of wood, carved and
polished, walnut-colored, formed
like a brazilnut, but large,
large enough to fill
the hungry palm of a hand.
I like the juicy stem of grass that grows
within the coarser leaf folded round,
and the butteryellow glow
in the narrow flute from which the morning-glory
opens blue and cool on a hot morning.
poem by Denise Levertov
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You Just Haven't Discovered That Yet
'Mommie?
What is substance and quality?
We've been given an assigment,
To describe what it is in an essay.'
Substance is something one wishes to have,
When a missing of a quality has been overpriced.
'I see.
So...
In other words,
You're telling me...
You have no clue either.'
What did your father say about it?
'He said,
Substance is something sacrificed...
When the quality of it has been diminished,
To the getting of it only lasting for two minutes.'
Go tell your father,
He need not worry about the quality of the substance,
Any longer.
'Why is it,
When I ask you two a question...
The answers have nothing to do,
With my assignment.'
They do.
And they will.
You just haven't discovered that yet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Empty As The Air
A life of substance, is always one that is desired.
But what of the substance you speak of?
How do you define it?
For ones man's junk is another man's treasure.
Substance is what we make of it.
Leading an interesting life in the gallows, could be considered a life of substance if that is what he desires.
Are you trying say he is saying pity me I have not lived an interesting life, one full of life changing, learning, and ever different experiences?
Do go on, as we investigate the brain.
Put it under some light.
What is really their?
Hmm, I can only wonder.
Maybe it is something empty as the air.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Stripped
Come with me
Into the trees
We'll lay on the grass
And let the hours pass
Take my hand
Come back to the land
Let's get away
Just for one day
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Metropolis
Has nothing on this
You're breathing in fumes
I taste when we kiss
Take my hand
Come back to the land
Where everything's ours
For a few hours
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Let me hear you make decisions,without your television
Let me hear you speaking just for me
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Let me hear you speaking just for me
Let me see you stripped down to the bone
Let me hear you crying just for me
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change the world with turning the palm
Change the world with turning the palm
Turning upside
Turning downside
Changing the world is not as hard as you think
Turning outside
Turning inside
Changing the world could be as easy as turning palm
Palm is opened
Palm is closed
Clap! Clap! Clap! The astonishing sound heard
Palm is hailed
Palm is hugged
When all people do it together
Yes, we can make a different
Change the world with turning the palm
Hide away smile
Erase away tears
Changing the world with a slight change of mind
The fate is cast
The fate unknown
Changing the world by turning others opinion
Palm is embracing
Palm is praying
Crack! Crack! Crack! A flicker of hope seen
Palm is waved
Palm is offered
When all people do it sincerely
Yes, we can change the world
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Maddened By Them
Hit the men of maddening, gaseous calm,
The real monsters of absolute palm,
Dead are people of books who read
And pave the way for humanity to lead.
Hit munching men only twice,
Ten times comes the peace of spice.
I have to mean justice in this hour,
The one substance mattering to a shower.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Palm-Tree
Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm,
On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm?
Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm?
A ship whose keel is of palm beneath,
Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bark sheath,
And a rudder of palm it steereth with.
Branches of palm are its spars and rails,
Fibres of palm are its woven sails,
And the rope is of palm that idly trails!
What does the good ship bear so well?
The cocoa-nut with its stony shell,
And the milky sap of its inner cell.
What are its jars, so smooth and fine,
But hollowed nuts, filled with oil and wine,
And the cabbage that ripens under the Line?
Who smokes his nargileh, cool and calm?
The master, whose cunning and skill could charm
Cargo and ship from the bounteous palm.
In the cabin he sits on a palm-mat soft,
From a beaker of palm his drink is quaffed,
And a palm-thatch shields from the sun aloft!
His dress is woven of palmy strands,
And he holds a palm-leaf scroll in his hands,
Traced with the Prophet's wise commands!
The turban folded about his head
Was daintily wrought of the palm-leaf braid,
And the fan that cools him of palm was made.
Of threads of palm was the carpet spun
Whereon he kneels when the day is done,
And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one!
To him the palm is a gift divine,
Wherein all uses of man combine,--
House, and raiment, and food, and wine!
And, in the hour of his great release,
His need of the palm shall only cease
With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace.
'Allah il Allah!' he sings his psalm,
On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm;
'Thanks to Allah who gives the palm!'
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Evil has no substance of its own, but is only the defect, excess, perversion, or corruption of that which has substance.
quote by John Henry Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papulation Control- A Cinquian Form
Rubber
substance with some substance
no thorough fare for liquids
clean slate makes some sense
eraser
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Villane-lie
He died upon the cross tonight,
As God reclaimed his mortal son
The world around was stripped of light.
To rid each soul of sinful blight
In His pure name the deed was done:
We murder’d on the cross tonight.
The darkness robs us of our sight
(The exit of the knowing Sun) :
The sky above was stripped of light.
In faith rev’rance of his might
We mourn the man we once did shun;
We murder’d on the cross tonight.
The wings of change take holy flight,
The work of man is now undone:
The sky above was stripped of light.
And thus these words we must recite,
A solemn and repeating run:
He died upon the cross tonight,
The world around was stripped of light.
poem by Daniel Brady
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Palm trees
There’s palm trees that grows in a row
down Nelson Mandela drive
and I wonder how they survive
and are full of life and vibrance,
while the one or other pest
destroys the rest of the palm trees
and eats them from the inside
and my neighbour’s palm
is yellow brown and dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In The Palm Of Your Hand
In the palm of your hand
you hold my heart.
Cradle it gently, my love
so it will never fall apart.
In the palm of your hand
you hold my love.
Carress it tenderly forever
and always place it above
everything that you touch.
Hold my hand
in the palm of your hand
so that I may always feel
that the sifting grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
will never be able to steal
these precious moments away.
Let them be able to stay
always in the palm of your hand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A palm wine taper does not stop tapping palm wine because he once fell from the top of a palm wine tree.