The one who understands does not speak, the one who speaks does not understand.
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The Invisible Man
Everywhere he goes
Everything he does
Everything proves to him
That he dont exist for them
Cos they dont understand what
The invisible man understands
Everyday he tries
Every night he dies
Looking for someone like him
Someone who dont walk by him
Someone who knows what
The invisible man understands
He doesnt sell cars
He doesnt sell clothes
Never famous
And know one knows
Stick and stone aint hurt him
You can dance on his grave when hes gone
But the invisible man will still touch your hand
Until you understand what he wants
Do you think you know him
Do you think that you know him
The lies and deceit you give
The curses and cries you give
Do you understand what the invisible man understands
Invisible man do you understand
Maybe it is you?
Invisible man do you understand
Maybe it is you?
Maybe it is you?
Maybe it is you?
Maybe it is you?
Maybe it is you?
Do you think you understand
Do you think you understand
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Know The Word of the Spirit Original 01 16 2011
TO KNOW THE WORD
OF THE SPIRIT:
Original 01 16 2011
To know the word as motive
Know that God speaks the nous
Between his will and knowledge
Prerogatives of vision and reason
To know the word as verbal
Know that God speaks transcendent
Nous -to know the word as noun
Know God speaks the tone of you
To know the word as poem read
To know the word as pronoun
Know that god does not speak
Of you god speaks to you
To know the word as adverb
Know that God does not speak
About you God speaks through you
To know the word as adjective
Know that God speaks by you
To know the word as preposition
Know God speaks from the heart
To know the word as poem write
To know the word is off the table
Know that God knows who sops
And all that was [was] forgiven
To know word as free verse
To know the word as parable
Know that God speaks nous
To know that God has spoken
Know pain and pleasure in spirit.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permissions.
poem by Lee B. Mack
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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311
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
he is sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cat And The Dog In The House Of Their Master
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speaks!
clouds speak...
with ancient cathedral voices,
but only to those who listen!
babies speak...
with first cry at light,
only mothers' ears hear!
bombs speak...
but never of freedom,
oppression's lies, loud and brash!
hunger speaks...
distinct human faces,
lost to the indifferent roar!
lonliness speaks...
lost in self losing color,
black and white emptiness!
God speaks...
but no one listens;
lost in those clouds,
slowly drifting away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Understood
Never understood
Always judge
no one to understand me
why do I put up
with this I hate
life and everyone in it
looking for someone
to finally understand me
It seems like no one
dose people say they do
but they really don't
then someone called me
right before suicide
right at the perfect moment
She asked what I was doing
I said suicide
She says if you do it
at least tell me why
Because no one understands me
Ok I see I always thought
you were the only one that understands
me so if you die I will
die inside like you did
a horrible feeling
to feel empty inside
Why don't you help me
out of it then
poem by Live To Die
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Not Bothered
when you understand and really
understand understanding
you do not speak
you only listen
as the other speaks to you
you anticipate when and where and what
you are no longer bothered with the
why.
as others in the corner still scream
crying, this is unfair, this is foul, this is heinous
to understand and really understand understanding
you put your hands inside the pocket of your pants
walk five steps farther
stop on the sixth and find a place for yourself
where you can take your deep breath
and sigh
because you are no longer bothered with the
why.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first kind is excellent, the second good, and the third kind useless.
quote by Niccolo Machiavelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Understood
Now that I'm a woman
I'm always dreaming of romance
I'm always dreaming about the perfect man
Who'd take me in his arms and understand, understand me
My name is Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands me?
He picked me up at midnight (Oh)
When all the town was fast asleep
We danced 4 the man in the moon above
Understanding's cheap when U fall in love, fall in love
Just call me Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands me?
I want a lover that can satisfy the hunger of my lonely heart
Gotta have a lover with a PhD in undercover art
Now that I'm a woman
I'm always looking 4 romance (Romance)
I'm always looking 4 the perfect man
Who'd take me in his arms and understand, understand me
Just call me Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands...
Miss Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
Isn't there a man who understands...
Miss (Miss, Miss) Understood
I'm just a girl who wants true love like anyone would
I'm Miss Understood
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are my escape.
I cannot write a song,
or say a word,
that would do you justice,
you do not require,
Justice.
You see,
i watch the sunset every night,
and stare at the stars still within sight,
i've seen the way the people stare,
and i see them everywhere.
i often question why i am,
is my existence purposeful,
but then i think about you're wonders and i cry because,
you're the most of anything anyone could ever have,
and in this world,
I'm humbled by your calmness here, .
you lift the pressures of the world,
and i can give it all to you,
all to you,
that's what I'll do,
my father.
You are amazing and you're perfect in your silent ways,
you've shown me how to say nothing at all,
but say everything,
within your silent grace.
And i understand what i never have,
and i understand what you've done,
who you are,
why you are,
without any explanation at all.
I breathe for you,
i speak in your language,
My tongue twists and speaks words i do not know,
but it is our speak,
our peaceful way of escape,
you are my escape,
you are my escape.
poem by Sandra jacks
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Women speak because they wish to speak, whereas a man speaks only when driven to speak by something outside himself like, for instance, he can't find any clean socks.
When he to whom one speaks does not understand, and he who speaks himself does not understand, that is metaphysics.
whatever language or dialect
man speaks or writes
God understands
quote by by John Celes
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Universe Speaks To Us
At times the universe speaks to us very clearly in our encounters. It always speaks to us, but we must give a effort to understand.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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The God speaks
Macbeth speaks; Hamlet speaks.
We say Shakespeare speaks.
Krishna speaks to Arjuna.
We don’t say Vyasar speaks.
21.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Great art speaks a language which every intelligent person can understand. The people who call themselves modernists today speak a different language.
quote by Marshall McLuhan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Baby Understands
Whenever my baby loves me
whenever my baby needs me
and he often does
Well I'm attracted by desire ooh
cause he's the master of the fire
and he teases just to tease me
and he pleases just to please me
My baby understands
my baby understands
my baby understands
my baby understands
Whenever my baby loves me
love me like he should
whenever my baby leaves me
leaves me feeling good
he loves me
needs me
wants me
oh yes my baby does
Whenever my baby leaves me
whenever my baby goes away for a while
like he does
No I never need to worry ooh
cause my baby loves me only
Well I'm capture by desire
cause he's the master of the fire
my baby understands
my baby understands
my baby understands
Yes my baby understands
song performed by by Donna Summer from Bad Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painful Memories
He is so lonely.
Feeling like he in a dead place.
Like a cemetery without no grass.
And tombstones of people that he knew from the past.
In the past hisfriend got shot in a drive by in a car that was shattered in broken glass.
But he has a girl that he loves all his life
The love never last.
He was driving in traffic.
And almost ended up in a crash.
Life can hit you hard when you lose somebody close.
And it hurts the most.
Love and hate is what surrounds us in this world and also fate.
He wish he could have his friend back and his girlfriend back.
But only thing is, he have to be strong and move on.
He thinks if he could paint a picture of his feelings.
It would be beautiful art.
The pain he feels is like a ocean.
He looks up in the sky and he saw a raindropp came down watching god cry.
He understands that the lord can feel our pain too.
He understands of being alive and being a man to understand life.
He understands being true.
He understand we can't cry out snow.
Because it would make it a cold world.
He understand he would struggle in life like being hit by hail.
He knows If he cries.
He hopes to sail.
All the pain he has inside.
He cry and flood a field.
But love always kills.
Because the pain is what the heart feels.
So he knows he will have to heal.
And be strong still.
poem by Anteaus Berryhill
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The ironist is not bitter, he does not seek to undercut everything that seems worthy or serious, he scorns the cheap scoring-off of the wisecracker. He stands, so to speak, somewhat at one side, observes and speaks with a moderation which is occasionally embellished with a flash of controlled exaggeration. He speaks from a certain depth, and thus he is not of the same nature as the wit, who so often speaks from the tongue and no deeper. The wit's desire is to be funny; the ironist is only funny as a secondary achievement.
quote by Robertson Davies
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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will you believe me if I speak of love?
If I speak of love, it is because love speaks
To me, like we are having this conversation
About love itself, and I ask love that if I speak
Of love, will love believe me?
And love sighed, and finds this question
Too self-serving for itself, for love could
Be biased too, telling me that if I speak
Of her, she will believe me, oh, that would
Be too unnecessary of love, to speak about itself,
For love to believe in love from love itself
Who is asking about love,
About me and telling me, she will believe me,
In fact, this would be too confusing, too confusing,
But I speak of her today, and I speak of myself
Too, believing about this love of mine,
And so confused we see each other eye to eye,
The eye of love to my eye of true love,
Talking heart to a true heart,
The heart of love talking to the heart of true love,
and finally, though confused, and still taking breaths,
love, she finally,
Said, yes, love believes me, love believes my love,
love speaks of love, love believes in love,
In my love, and there is no other. Love begets love.
That is what human history had always told to itself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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