Falsehood, like a nettle, stings those who meddle with it.
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Falsehood is a nettle that stings those who meddle with it.
I bought the nettle, sowed the nettle, and then the nettle stung me.
The Stinging Nettle
The stinging nettle only
Will still be found to stand:
The numberless, the lonely,
The thronger of the land,
The leaf that hurts the hand.
That thrives, come sun, come showers;
Blow east, blow west, it springs;
It peoples towns, and towers
Above the courts of Kings,
And touch it and it stings.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Always seek the refuge of the truth
You can neither touch it nor feel it,
Unless you peel the cover of falsehood off,
For 'falsehood is bound to perish by nature, '
And then you will get the truth with all its might,
Howsoever dark the night is,
A glow warm ends its monopoly,
Likewise a small truth challenges
The mighty empire of falsehood,
So never rely on falsehood,
And always seek the refuge of the truth.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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She is very fragile and handle very carefully
Life provokes all the time and the man in netting
That stings when touched like nettle.
He gets a partner for his solitary pilgrimage
And she seems to be tangible or capable to rough weather.
Otherwise the whole mysterious life would be a sore.
She likes a sister to him and sometimes a lover.
She advice as a mother and please strum her soft heart string carefully
Then you hear the melody that tiptoes with you in this tiresome journey.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Incorrect Speaking
Incorrectness in your speech
Carefully avoid, my Anna;
Study well the sense of each
Sentence, lest in any manner
It misrepresent the truth;
Veracity's the charm of youth.
You will not, I know, tell lies,
If you know what you are speaking.
Truth is shy, and from us flies;
Unless diligently seeking
Into every word we pry,
Falsehood will her place supply.
Falsehood is not shy, not she,-
Ever ready to take place of
Truth, too oft we Falsehood see,
Or at least some latent trace of
Falsehood, in the incorrect
Words of those who Truth respect.
poem by Charles Lamb
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From The Very Moment That It Stings
From the very moment that it stings,
Forgiving to forget a harboring that swings...
Back and forth from that day forward,
When a heartbreak begins to be remembered...
Doesn't end to forever disappear.
From the moment that it strings,
One's heart is torn and broken.
And those tears that flow that shows one's woes,
May come to mend.
But a bitterness sits every now and then.
From the very moment that it stings,
It's difficult to pretend...
A feeling inside no longer rides.
To disguise it for something else,
With a charading faked denied on one's face.
From the very moment that it stings,
Enough is enough..
A quality once known can not be patched up!
And from the moment that it stings...
One knows a change has begun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unpleasant News
At a same time
Same place
The Opposite entities
Can't exists.
Falsehood is in reality
It is true.
And the truest of all is that
Truth can't be false.
Same time
Same place
Both can't exist.
Either truth
Changes into falsehood
Or falsehood
Changes into truth
Both are dangerous for us
And not a pleasant news.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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We are as the dew on a prairie
We are as the dew on a prairie
Flowers amongst limestone graves
Entrenched in living rock
Watered by bird song
Engulfed in nettle stings
We are but charcoal smoke rings
Fasting on a single drawn out breath
Resting on a forward moving breeze
We are a clutch of eggs
Encased in a bough of creeping ivy
Squawking franticly upwards
Up at the midnight's sun
We are the covenant…?
The rain storm afore the rainbow
Slayed by the swords of angels
We are the dewdrops on the prairie
Flowering; amidst the entire universe.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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It Nods and Curtseys and Recovers
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for love.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The man, he does not move,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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El-Wak Stadium
Making to forget my rest,
But, why should you meddle into the troubles that lead to sin? !
Of spanners, bolts and nuts;
Making to forget my sins.
Why meddle into the troubles that will cause your downfall? !
For, i am now at the 'El-Wak Stadium' with hopes and dreams.
The muse around me is like the shields of King David! !
And, each man is now with his own weapon in his hand.
I am in the royal line to your heart!
But, every woman now has her hands on her threshold.
A donkey is now sold for eighty Shekels! !
And, a dove's dung is sold for five Shekels;
And like the hope of your muse in the land of struggle,
But my mind will always write for others to learn.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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5: 28 In The Morning
ideas keep rushing like some leaves blown by the wind,
this is different, i must agree, there is no choice,
there is this bee that keeps on hovering on top of me and
then suddenly stops to settle on my hair
and stings my head
and here, here, it must have mistaken me as a flower
it stops asking for some nectar to sip
i said, i don't have any for i am a man, not this flower in your mind
and hey, look at this bee, it stings me, and i am swollen, and then it says,
o my, indeed, you're human
i am sorry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A liar begins with making falsehood appear like truth, and ends with making truth itself appear like falsehood.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fatwa
Some says Falsehood
says fear to false
fear not truth.
Fear not truth
truth reign
truth recognised.
Falsehood perished
let us go beyod fatwa
let us buried ills
to serve kith and kins.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Better to be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The honest liar
1. I have to tell you that
In the last conversation we had
All I told you were lies
And with all honesty now
I am telling you
That I am a liar.
2. When you asked me
Whether I am dying
I told you I am not
But I have only
A month to live
That is the truth
But look
I am not responsible for you
I am the one
That is dying here.
It is not you.
3. When we speak
I do not demand that
You tell me the truth
We are talking
Because we are here
What you say to me
Is none of my business
To require that you tell
Me the truth
Is in fact, an overburden
Our agreement is
Simple enough
That we just talk
It is nothing more
But a contract of presence
a conversation.
4. In fact what you say
Is the bonus
And it does not matter
Truth or falsehood
We just talk
For a while
While I am here
I am going somewhere
I am leaving
You will be left
And you still have
All the time to contrive
The choice is yours
I have none anymore
5. so that is it
Keep on talking
As I pretend I am listening
I keep on talking too
But my mind
Forgive me
Is somewhere else
You may not understand
It at first
But you will soon
Understand
This world is not simply meant
For one, for one like me.
Or for us.
6. at this stage
Truth and falsehood
Are irrelevant,
Out there
Is beyond truth and falsehood
It is our place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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