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Must Repeat
It is change of cycle and must repeat
One comes in world and departs for light to lit
He is required there as place is vacant
The soul is taken away to deliver the important
The fate is same for all
It is certainly divine call
Some one departs at early stage
Some one goes in the old age
It is worthwhile to respect the birth
As no one is allowed to live here after death
Relatives may miss and lay a wreath
But is it certain way and defined as path
Stay here as animal or human being
But role will be defined in the circus ring
You may go for noble roles and acclaim
Rest may die soon without and legitimate claim
No one may raise any statue
If so, then it will be naturally due
They may pay it as mark of respect
A tribute to your service and graceful act
Human memory is very short
Not all ships anchor safely at port
You may be lost from memory very soon
Life has to come down like balloon
It is nothing but short stay
Can make it meaningful if found good way
If not then it is drifted away
Pushed in darkness for the want of shining ray
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Glory Is Not The Glory of God
MY GLORY IS NOT THE GLORY OF G-D
My glory is not the glory of G-d
I do not know what the glory of God is-
I do not know my own glory.
Glory glory glory
What’s glory?
We are small lost souls in a space and time so far beyond us
It is difficult to imagine
Even God knows how to deal with it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Come As You Are (LP Version)
Come As You Are"
Come, as you are. As you were.
As I want you to be. As a friend.
As a friend. As an old enemy. Take your time.
Hurry up. The choice is yours. Don't be late.
Take a rest. As a friend. As a old memory, memory, memory, memory.
Come. Dowsed in mud. Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be. As a trend. As a friend.
As an old memory, memory, memory, memory.
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
Memory, memory, memory, memory (don't have a gun).
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun. Memory, memory...
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody Touched Me
(first release, live version portsmouth, england, september 24, 2000traditional, arranged by bob dylan)
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!
Would you please welcome columbia recording artist bob dylan.
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Must have been the hand of the lord.
While I was praying, somebody touched me,
While I was praying, somebody touched me,
While I was praying, somebody touched me,
Must have been the hand of the lord.
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Must have been the hand of the lord.
Well, it was on a sunday, somebody touched me,
It was on a sunday, somebody touched me,
It was on a sunday, somebody touched me,
Must have been the hand of the lord.
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Glory, glory, glory, somebody touched me,
Must have been the hand of the lord.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thy memory
In the desert of my unending gloom,
I feel thy hand on my visage,
The intensity of my pain retreats,
The frangrance of thy being
Lights up, in me,
The spirit of vivacity,
My days are luminious,
My nights are colourful.
I feel the moisture of thy hair
As the rain comes,
I feel thy touch
As the wind blows,
I experience spring
In the autumn of my life,
The flowers of thy memory
Bloom everywhere.
But Ah!
As soon as thy memory departs,
The world becomes dark to me
And my spirit.
I am lost in my business again,
The business of memorizing thee.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory, glory to, glory to,
The new born King...
Glory, glory, glory, glory, glory...
Glory to the new born King
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born King
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled
Joyful all ye nations rise, join the triumph of the skies
With angelic host proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born King
Glory, glory, glory, (oh yeah) glory, glory
Glory to the new born King
Glory (glory) glory, (yeah) glory, glory...
Glory...
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory... Glory...
Hail! the heaven-born Prince of Peace; Hail the son of Righteousness
Light and life to all He brings, risen with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by, born that man, no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born...
[Ad Libs]
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son can be a rival/.
I taught my son lessons on singing
And made him with my sweats a great singer.
Sons’ glory is fathers’ glory.
His glory is my glory.
His wings spread and mine shrunk.
People thronged around him and spared me.
They didn’t say he was the great;
They said I was no where near him.
His glory is not my glory;
Sons’ glory is not fathers’ glory.
Can there be two heroes in a play?
Should he outlive me in the posterity?
He is my rival, no more a son.
11.02.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be Not Indignant
Be not indignant, at the suns descent,
The golden moon is heaven sent.
Don't show displeasure when he sun departs,
The moon is made for youthful hearts.
Don't let your displeasure, overpower you,
The full moon comes and it is blue.
Don't let your resentment pique your ire,
Let the full moon stoke your fire.
When the sun departs, do not be miffed,
Just let the moon your spirits lift.
The sun and the moon, both have their place,
If you let their love, shine on your face.
4/19/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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American Trilogy
Oh I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old things they are not forgotten
Look away, look away, look away Dixieland
Oh I wish I was in Dixie, away, away
In Dixieland I take my stand to live and die in Dixie
Cause Dixieland, that's where I was born
Early Lord one frosty morning
Look away, look away, look away Dixieland
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
His truth is marching on
So hush little baby
Don't you cry
You know your daddy's bound to die
But all my trials, Lord will soon be over
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
His truth is marching on
His truth is marching on
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A song of sorrow
I write and remove thy name,
In this way I punish my heart,
Thy love was nothing but a game,
And I was defeated by thy ways smart.
I am still alive leading a life of curse,
My vivacity departs, my light is fading,
No one is here to find me a nurse,
And yet my peace thy memory is invading,
O soul, o life, be ready for something worst,
Something thy would never have seen,
My death will soon quench thy thirst,
Thou may get what I mean.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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I live and will die by you
It is my memory of you
That kindles my spirit.
It is the same memory
That swindles my heart.
My head is full with your thought.
My bed is sore from the same thought.
Day by day pain aggravates;
The same way does my plight.
It is my memory of you
That gives me joy.
It is the same memory
That sends me to sorrow.
You throw on me the day and the night.
I enjoy both in different lights.
I cherish you in my memory;
I may perish from the same memory
29.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Butterfly
How exquisite the butterfly
In silence he departs
Fleeting wings that say goodbye
Leaves unaware a loving heart.
How quietly the butterfly
Released itself from memory
Hidden tears that it may cry
Are buried deep in agony.
And still it hopes with each new day
To find the one to Love so true
In its short life till it dies away
To love and be loved is what it will do.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Memory and Oblivion
When all is lost, there is still a memory
From which a new city can be built in a new world.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
Oblivion cures the old wounds, and you must agree,
There is only the past and the future on the path;
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Memory will save oblivion from a bad reverie;
When the new city is built, it will be an abode,
Bestowed by those with memory to make others wealthy.
Before the temple, in the middle of the city,
Keepers of the fire all abided.
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Fire will be born from night to be
New light when all knowledge is swallowed
And those with memory will be wealthy.
A new rose will bloom from the dark sea,
A city revived from memory and abroad;
When all is but a memory, there is still memory.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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A Christmas Fancy
Early on Christmas Day,
Love, as awake I lay,
And heard the Christmas bells ring sweet and clearly,
My heart stole through the gloom
Into your silent room,
And whispered to your heart, `I love you dearly.'
There, in the dark profound,
Your heart was sleeping sound,
And dreaming some fair dream of summer weather.
At my heart's word it woke,
And, ere the morning broke,
They sang a Christmas carol both together.
Glory to God on high!
Stars of the morning sky,
Sing as ye sang upon the first creation,
When all the Sons of God
Shouted for joy abroad,
And earth was laid upon a sure foundation.
Glory to God again!
Peace and goodwill to men,
And kindly feeling all the wide world over,
Where friends with joy and mirth
Meet round the Christmas hearth,
Or dreams of home the solitary rover.
Glory to God! True hearts,
Lo, now the dark departs,
And morning on the snow-clad hills grows grey.
Oh, may love's dawning light
Kindled from loveless night,
Shine more and more unto the perfect day!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Soul has an extra mileage
Soul and body: who depends on who?
Soul and body: who adds values to who?
Whom do you regard: soul or body?
Who is the cause of your actions?
Does soul departs for body decays?
Does body decays for soul departs?
Soles alone are ghosts; bodies alone are corpses.
Soul and body together gain values.
Must soul have an extra mileage?
13.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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