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An Old Man With His Hat
There Little Robbie found him in an old yellow album
A blurred picture of a half old man with his hat
Standing in front of the coffin
He smiles shy but wide with his teeth gone making a hole like Little Robbie when he lose his baby teeth
Little Robbie doesn’t recognize him and he wonder where he is now
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his big sister
But his sister doesn’t recognize him and she wonder who he is
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his mother
But his mother doesn’t recognize him and she wonder how he was there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his father
But his father doesn’t recognize him and he wonder what he did there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his uncle
But his uncle doesn’t recognize him and he wonder when the picture taken
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks hopelessly to his grandfather
His grandfather takes a deep look to that picture and wonders why Little Robbie asks
Little Robbie says, “I want to meet him! I want to know about him! I want to play with him! ”
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
But his grandfather shakes his head, “No, he is not.”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
“He accompanied your great grandfather when he sick until his death. This picture is taken in a burial of your great grandfather.”
His grandfather stares at little Robbie
“Now, are you disappointed? ”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
Little Robbie shakes his head, “No, I am not.”
Though he is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
Though he is just an old man with his hat
“But I still want to meet him, I want to know about him, and I want to play with him! ”
And then he could be one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A psychiatrist is a fellow who asks you a lot of expensive questions your wife asks for nothing.
quote by Joey Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A psychiatrist asks a lot of expensive questions your wife asks for nothing.
quote by Joey Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The wise man asks questions of himself; the fool questions others.
Static
I got a girl in sault ste. marie
Takes a bus every weekend just to come across the miles to me
Leaves her room in the shadow of the bridge
To spend two days life blind in my dirty bed
Doesnt asks questions, never talks down
About the things I do when she isnt around
Yeah I just about live in the bars around town
I lose myself in the voice of the crowd
Each and every day I need static
I dont wanna go home alone
I know a girl just outside of lacrosse
She meets me in milwaukee when the weather gets humid and hot
She leaves her husband and retarded baby girl
Just to walk for a while unencumbered in an easier world
No questions, never asks why
I walk the floor in the middle of the night and stare
Out the window of an ugly motel
At the neon signs outside
Think about the hell I sell
To make my static
I dont wanna go home, I dont wanna go home
I dont wanna go home alone...
Got a girl in saux st. marie
Takes a bus every weekend just to come across the miles to me
Leaves her room in the shadow of the bridge
Just to spend two days life blind in my dirty bed
Doesnt asks questions, never talks down
About the life I lead when she isnt around
Yeah, I just about live in the bars around town
Lose myself in the voice of the crowd
Walk around stupid and blind and proud
Each and every day I need static
I dont wanna go home alone...
I dont wanna go home
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Many Questions Our Life Arise
Not looking at anybody doesn't mean not to see,
To do the things you like doesn't mean to be free.
To be at the very verge of life doesn't mean to die.
And standing on the ground doesn't mean not to fly.
And how much to pepper so that all could be well?
And how much to sugar to sweeten the hell?
To live a normal life doesn't mean not to dream.
But how long to wait realizing that dream?
How loudly shout to suppress a whisper?
What questions to ask to recognize a twister?
Do not forgiving offense is not to keep the evil,
A beautiful appearance can hide the devil.
Not screaming with pain, doesn't mean not to suffer.
To be deceived, does not mean to be a duffer.
How cool to be to avoid the passion?
And how sensitive to be to see the affection?
Many questions in our tough life arise.
The answers are found if you are enough wise.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who asks a question may be a fool for five minutes; he who asks no questions stays a fool forever.
One Is 16 And The Other 18
the police officer arrested them
last night while they were strolling on the park
and this is the story:
he asks for their names and they say they have none
he asks from where they come from and they say
they do not really know
he asks them where they are going and they tell him
they are still undecided
he asks them what is in their bags and they say they are just nothing
he asks them some more and they say
they have nothing to say of themselves
they come from nowhere
and they are heading nowhere
and the police handcuffed them
these vagrants
these potential terrorists of this rural place
where the people still love peace
and this afternoon the police officer brings them all to me
and he tells me about the whole story
about his questions and their answers
and i am looking at them and they look at me
straight in my eyes
with dignity and without shame
with all pride
that they are telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
that this one whose age is 16 and this other one whose age is 18
are simply talking about
themselves
and about us
and about the policeman himself
and surely, i agree
we have no names, we do not know where we come from and we do not
really know where we are going
we are all like that, in the strictest sense of the word, except
for our little pretensions
and so i ordered the policeman to release them all
and let them be
themselves
and let them go in peace and finish their journey with all ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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435
The Police Officer Arrested Them
Last Night While They Were Strolling On The Park
And This Is The Story:
He Asks For Their Names And They Say They Have None
He Asks From Where They Come From And They Say
They Do Not Really Know
He Asks Them Where They Are Going And They Tell Him
They Are Still Undecided
He Asks Them What Is In Their Bags And They Say They Are Just Nothing
He Asks Them Some More And They Say
They Have Nothing To Say Of Themselves
They Come From Nowhere
And They Are Heading Nowhere
And The Police Handcuffed Them
These Vagrants
These Potential Terrorists Of This Rural Place
Where The People Still Love Peace
And This Afternoon The Police Officer Brings Them All To Me
And He Tells Me About The Whole Story
About His Questions And Their Answers
And I Am Looking At Them And They Look At Me
Straight In My Eyes
With Dignity And Without Shame
With All Pride
That They Are Telling The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
That This One Whose Age Is 16 And This Other One Whose Age Is 18
Are Simply Talking About
Themselves And About Us
And About The Policeman Himself
And Surely, I Agree
We Have No Names, We Do Not Know Where We Come From And We Do Not
Really Know Where We Are Going
We Are All Like That, In The Strictest Sense Of The Word, Except
For Our Little Pretensions
And So I Ordered The Policeman To Release Them All
And Let Them Be Themselves
And Let Them Go In Peace And Finish Their Journey With All Ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is This Between You And Me?
When dawn arrives, sun rises,
And daylight bristles awake,
Never asks; Who leaves an ache as keepsake? ,
Grateful for each day, that he didn’t forsake.
When it rains, the cuckoo sings,
The forest echoes with his cravings,
Never asks; Whose soul-wrenching greetings the rain brings?
Tying her mute existence with what heartstrings?
When the wind moans in sweet whispers,
In ripe orchards, where the fruit anchors,
Never asks; With what sweet nothings he casts his doubts? ,
But in deeper shades she flushes.
When the moon returns on the rung of stars,
The night in obeisance crawls, like hungry jaguars,
Never asks-questions about his whereabouts, all that in the darkness chars,
But steers to him on the shoulder's of the lodestar.
When the storm hurls thunder and rain,
Enduring the earth braces open and doesn’t complain,
Never asks; What havoc in this rage she sustains?
Content to know in her hands, lie the reins to his restrain.
When the butterfly flickers mingling colors,
The blossoms throw no tempers, till their contrast blurs,
Never asks; Who steals my colors and violates the sanctity of my lair?
With open arms to his designs she willing concurs.
When the clouds lie scattered & wander,
The hills try hard to delay their departure,
Never asks; Who rides off to what strange lands with my emotions?
She knows with her heavy on his heart he returns.
Now, you have the temerity to ask me;
What is this between you and me?
x-x-x
Seema.Joglekar
5th Dec-2009
poem by Seema joglekar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Friends VS. Best Friends
A Just Friend says.. hi, ..hello, ..bye, ... and walks away...
A Best friend always stop by your side & asks how Are You doing? ?
A Just Friend has never seen you cry.
A Best friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A Just Friend thinks the friendship is over, when you have an argument.
A Best friend knows that it's not a friendship, until after you've had a fight.
A Just Friend hates it when you call, after he has gone to bed.
A Best friend asks you.... why you took so long to call.
A Just Friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A Best friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.
A Just Friend expects you to be always there for any help.
A Best friend is always there, wherever you require any help.
A Just Friend doesn't have time in his/her busy schedule,
A Best friend always have time for you in his/her busy schedules....
A Just Friend phones you whenever he/she has some work,
A Best friend calls you often just to hear your voice.....
A Just Friend doesn't have anything to talk to you on phone,
A Best friend doesn't know...what all to finish...
poem by Hanae Meloul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one is without knowledge except he who asks no questions.
He who asks questions, cannot avoid the answers
He who asks questions cannot avoid the answers.
No one is without knowledge except him who asks no questions.
He, who asks questions, cannot avoid the answers.
He who asks questions, cannot avoid the answers.