When joy is extreme, it is the forerunner of grief.
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Elimination is a fortune.
A marathon race was on
Kalyanasundarm was in the lead.
Kannathasan was close behind.
The forerunner broke down.
The next came up as a forerunner.
06.09.2003
[They were leading Tamil Lyricists, of whom the former died young]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Extremes, though contrary, have the like effects. Extreme heat kills, and so extreme cold: extreme love breeds satiety, and so extreme hatred; and too violent rigor tempts chastity, as does too much license.
quote by George Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Breaking Of The Dam
silence is the dam,
grief rains nights
lament screams
the dam breaks out
unable to hold
further the weight
of grief
those that listen
and do not do anything
down the plains
must now know what is
extreme pain
what is sorrow
what is unbearable
your flood shall take
some of those who had always
been insensitive.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Afraid To Crack
soon there is no use of your fear
in due time
you crack
extreme heat
extreme cold
like a seed
your mind cracks
but do not lose hope
my dear
we all crack
on extreme pain
on extreme joys
we give room
for the seed
to grow
just wait
just wait
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Survive
to survive i go for the golden mean
not so tall and not so short
the tastier, meatier part i suppose
is the middle part of the sandwich
the smoother flow is the middle
part of the river
the safer part is the middle in every
location
at the extreme right what do you get?
or at the extreme left?
i sing between
you extreme joy is killing you with arrogance
your extreme sorrow is killing you with hopelessness
you see,
i live in the middle of everything
not so hot and not so cold and they always call it
this paradise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hope in Heaven's Day
Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.
poem by Arlene Dery
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The Weight of Poetry
Poetry is core of arts
It’s not strange!
Not knowing that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not strange as well!
The many who don’t know that poetry is core of all arts
It’s not a strange at all!
Although the poets usually make foes against vulgarity
A city makes the poets wandering on the streets
Should utterly lack of the manner and style
A society brings the resentment to the poets
Should fully lack of consciousness
Solitude is the major topic in life
Solitude is poetry
Lack of poetry, art is a form of imitation
Lack of poetry, power is a presumptuous mediocrity
Lack of poetry, fortune is a wealthy poverty
Lack of poetry, love is a superficial organ
The extreme of love- solitude
The extreme of wealth- solitude
The extreme of power – solitude
The extreme of art- solitude
The extreme of climax - solitude
The extreme of world - solitude
The extreme of planets- solitude
Those who have never explored loneliness
Can write down the weight of poetry?
poem by DePen Chang
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Your Face...
stay still, do not turn your face
to the extreme end, , , this is the right angle
i click the camera,
this is the side of happiness, keep your cool,
do not move, do not change the angle,
now, try moving to the extreme left,
this will be the same face, but the extreme one
on a 190 degree turn, shows the other
side of you, and this i will try to take too,
this face of sorrow,
this angle of lament, , , , you see, it is the same face
with just one turn, a little change,
at the extreme, i can see both of you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About The Mother
she feigns laughter
to hide her extreme grief
about the unexpected loss
of the beloved
wrapped in white cloth
without a face
just pieces of those
charred limbs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That which is exceptionally good is a forerunner of something bad.
Extreme hopes are born from extreme misery.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Victim In Me
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
I know what I'd do put in the position.
I know how I would do it.
Reading minds.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Coordinating the attack.
Knowing they won't be able to do jack.
How I love the powerless.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Can feel the desperation.
Can you see the celebration.
The joyous occasion of misery.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
On the retreat.
A sign of defeat.
Isn't it neat.
The blood flows right beneath your feet.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
It's never easy for a king to capture his throne.
Be careful of mercy.
Be you not considered weak.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
One taste of sweet victory and theirs no going back.
The brutality of ambition.
Look at all the heads of your enemies.
Piked all over your kingdom for all too see.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Tears fall upon their deaths.
Jeers and cheers fall upon their deaths.
Rage fills some.
Others completely fall apart.
A sickness that cause them to come undone.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Or these thing I would not be able see.
A fortune teller be.
A march right in the midst of destiny.
The wounded are so plenty.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Or these thing I would not be able see.
A fortune teller be.
A march right in the midst of destiny.
The wounded are so plenty.
They are always so plenty.
And one is me.
Oh yes one is me.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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what Anselma fished out of the sea
when Anselma's husband who was a fisherman
was swallowed by the sea and was gone
she says she cannot be outdone
by extreme grief and sorrow
she went out to fish one day
and fished out a man from there
and she explains
the sea took out her man
and so the sea
must pay back with
another man
and since then
Anselma lives happily ever after
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For me, naming bands was the forerunner to really writing lyrics, because I work off titles.
quote by Jim Capaldi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have a little history. I met Stone Temple Pilots, and their guitar player was a huge Extreme fan. Somewhere down the road, Extreme made its statement.
quote by Gary Cherone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Congealed thinking is the forerunner of failure... make sure you are always receptive to new ideas.
quote by George Crane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extreme remedies are very appropriate for extreme diseases.
quote by Hippocrates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Former and Latter
If I Weep,
I want
it to be Torrents;
if I Cry, ,
make it Tsunami;
if I Lust
have me be Ravenous;
If Sad,
have my eyes
Glow in the Dark.
Empathy for me
must be Complete;
Love All Consuming;
Pity must be
the Heights of Grief;
Death must be
Really Dead.
No half way measures;
they are the Necro-Nibbles of Life.
The Greeks counseled
Moderation in all things
but they did not;
Democracy is an extreme
form of Individualism
and Sexually they
did not
cease at the Moderation Crease.
The Truth here
is that Creativity
only comes at the extremes
but not without its price;
one that I will pay
for an Extreme Life
rather than the alternative-
Slow Moderate Death.
These are sometimes
choices we make;
giddy Risky Risk
or Slow Suffocation;
or being mugged in life
slow frame
by slow frame.
Put me down
for the former
you can take the latter.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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