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The biggest mistake
With the palyful gait of a chid,
i was playing with my friends,
in the rocky hill and sand,
With all might i was playing the game.
All were busy pushing, pulling, running,
I too was doing the same,
but my attention was driven away from the game,
The sight of a playful goat was alluring me away.
The sight of the shiny black goat,
made me thought to chase and play with it,
But the goat was not ready to do the same,
so i was running fast to chase.
Its unwillingness to play with me,
was making me crazy to play,
So i was running with a frenzy,
to catch it with all my might.
I didnt realise what my chase may lead to,
my mind was filled with the only thought of catching it,
and running away from my mad chase,
It met its death inside a well.
Till date and every date of my life,
I regret and will always do so,
till the end of my life for my mad chase,
My mad chase leading to an innocent death!
poem by Winnie Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Belongs To Me
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back.
Takes the dark out of the nighttime, she paints the daytime black.
You will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees.
But you will wind up peeking through a key hole, down upon your bended knees.
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.
She wears an Egyptian ring, that sparkles before she speaks.
She's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.
Bow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween but her a trumpet, and for Christmas, buy her drums.
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back.
Takes the dark out of the nighttime, you know she paints the daytime black
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holiday meals
Here's a poem that will get your goat
But my goat ate my poem.
I'll get him for that
He ate all that i wrote.
I wrote such wounderous words
And all he does is burp
It's absurd.
Now all I can do
Is not let him get my goat
The words that I wrote
Were hastey and few
The goat that I had made such a great stew.
Daytime has been successful all these years because it caters to a very real need in the audience - to see something that's not nighttime fantasy. People watch daytime because it's like their lives.
quote by Erika Slezak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An ever-relished chase
It has been a long chase
For something or the other
Over these years
As a kid it was a chase
For toys and play things
As a student it was a chase
For marks and ranks
As a youth it was a chase
After career and growth
And later it was chase
For getting the right life partner
The chase continued
For off-springs’ upbring
It was later to chase
For helping children settle
Ageing made me chase
For cure from illnesses
And other physical malfunctions
Yes,
It was a long chase for
Something or the others all these days
One understanding dawned in me
That
You will not get that
Which you have not chased
And
You will not get every thing
Which you have chased
Even if you get the object of your chase
It is not going to be in that form
In which it was when you started the chase
Unfruitful chase proves frustrating
Fruitful chase exciting
Wisdom will tell you that
The pleasure is more with the act of chase
Than getting hold of the object of chase
Holding of the object of chase
And sustaining its charm
Are essential after the end of chase
Very likely, chase for objects of
Worldly significance
Takes away your energy
And a lot of time elapses
Before you get in possession
Of your chase-objects
The duration at times is so large
That you wonder at the end of the chase
As to what for this object has been chased
The one chase which
Has the least probability
Of ending and
You hardly get hold of the
Object of chase
Is the
Chase for self-actualization
Or self-realization
This is the chase after your spirit
That kept you going all these days
And that will keep you going
Till that time when you away
Spiritual scholars assure
That this chase is really exciting
And remains so for any long
Whether or not
You come across what you are chasing
Develop a taste for such a chase
As this chase
Never makes you tired
But helps you remain balanced, cool
And unmindful of happenings
Around you
It is indeed an ever-relished chase
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goat Hill
Goat Hill
Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son
poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
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The Coolun
Come with me, under my coat,
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat,
Or wine, if it be thy will;
And we will talk until
Talk is a truble, too,
Out in the side of the hill,
And nothing is left to do,
But an eye to look into an eye
And a hand in a hand to slip,
And a sigh to answer a sigh,
And a lip to find out a lip:
What if the night be black
And the air on the mountain chill,
Where the goat lies down in her track
And all but the fern is still!
Stay with me under my coat,
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat
Out on the side of the hill.
poem by James Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goat
Lots of goat for dinner
Is all had on a skewer,
My kingdom has survived,
The lids of your eyes
Are lifted and they see
The meat of the kings
In consumption.
Force the goat to be eaten
By converting the king
To your crevice.
Food has might,
Food is the whim of our land.
We ghosts are relaxed tonight,
From the worry of the horror,
Frightened again by the double,
Load the goat into the pot and eat.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What for? If only the goat can tell.
O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body
Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy
The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What To Do?
paint the night
with your lullabye,
daytime, oh, just
sunny side up.
egg white
and coffee,
black, w/o sugar.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Day At The Bunkhouse (Fun Poem 47)
It was Christmas day at the bunkhouse
everyone had sat down for a meal
when through the door walked a goat.
He stood and looked around,
then continued to eat an artichoke.
When he finished he sat and asked for a drink,
someone got up and gave him a bowel of water.
The goat looked at the offering with disgust.
Ain’t you got anything stronger that that?
Of course, we have, came the reply.
Well pour me out some the goats said,
and put some mud in my eye.
Someone had some scotch whiskey
and took the bottle out,
then gave the goat a dram.
The goat sniffed it, and then downed it
all in one swallow.
He then asked for more
saying his legs were still hollow.
Another dram was poured
and everyone was amazed to see,
an upside down goat
drinking a bottle of scotch whiskey.
The goat drank all day
and it drank all night.
The lights went out
and the old goat went to sleep.
He dreamed of himself
floating out the door
and all the way to heaven,
but when he got there,
St Peter wouldn’t let him in.
He said God will not tolerate
any drunken old goats here,
so you had better go back
and sleep it off, Billy.
Then put up a sign on the door.
No drunken old goats allowed,
signed by you know who.
You could always try
beneath the basement floor
he’ll greet you with a smile
and a shovel,
even make you hot and warm.
The moral of this story
whether you’re a goat or a man.
Don’t drink too much;
you could end up
jumping from the frying pan
and straight into the fire,
the one that they keep burning
permanently beneath the basement floor.
poem by David Harris
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The more the billy goat stinks, the more the nanny goat loves him.
Do not try to cook the goat's young in the goat's milk.
A man and a goat can be friends but it would be foolishness for the goat to pay the first visit.
If you put a silk suit on a goat it is still a goat.
If you put a silk dress on a goat, he is a goat still.
The eye of the leopard is on the goat, and the eye of the goat is on the leaf.
If the goat says it will become a sheep, there will always be black spots on its body.
It Is Good To Chase Dreams
it is good to smile to laugh
it is good to chase dreams
there is a time to chase dreams
now is the time to chase dreams
chase a few of your dreams again
chase with energy belief passion again
time is chasing you hunting you down
chase catch noble dreams hunt time down
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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