Literature is the expression of a feeling of deprivation, a recourse against a sense of something missing. But the contrary is also true: language is what makes us human. It is a recourse against the meaningless noise and silence of nature and history.
quote by Octavio Paz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Murder Poem) Shades Of Black
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
I was abandon as a child.
I'm alone as a man.
The goodness of the damned.
Oh how I wish I had a plan.
Something set in stone.
With many regrets I walk this life feeling like a reject.
A failure all on my own.
I don't need no help from you never did.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
Their is poison in the water.
Their is treachery afoot.
Oh Oh just come look.
The blood has been spilt and they have no clue I did it you.
I don't even care if they did.
I'll take as many I can.
When everything has gone so wrong.
Sitting staring out the window with a revolver in you in hand.
What choices are left?
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
A nightmare of solutions unfold.
Each bloody as the next.
How can you ever truly live with it.
Settling for only second best.
The black knight ego's of arrogance.
Tunnel vision fills his eyes.
All he's after is the prize.
I doesn't matter who gets hurt on his way to it.
With deliverance I give you pain.
A message from someone who truly insane.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
And it is time for my greatest attack.
As if anyone should be proud of such a thing.
The sweat pours off my brow as I become the butcher of butchers.
A dissection of a living to dead body.
Someone help this man, oh please anybody.
The urges to kill won't stop.
They are all hes got.
Taking out all his sexual frustrations.
These escalation will only continue.
They will not just die.
Or move on to a paradise behind the next dawn.
No matter how hard I try.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
I feel nothing no more.
I don't know why.
I wish I could fix myself tonight.
I wish I could embrace love once again.
But wishes are nothing but useless thoughts.
The futility of the evil creature I am.
Hated by everyone.
So foul have I become.
A disease that can never be done.
Just kill me now.
To save so many.
Promise me, make your vow.
Cause I won't go down quietly.
I fight it for as long I can.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nature scarcely ever gives us the very best; for that we must have recourse to art.
quote by Baltasar Gracian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Threat
Somebody locked the door last night, while
Veracity and unreality had been
In that moment indistinguishable-
In the past as a young and innocent child,
Overwhelmed by
Spoken words nobody else could hear-
Sights nobody else could see- and
Insects crawling up and down my limbs-
Lost inside the world of my delusiveness
Nobody believed my plight and
Rain could fall upon my foundation as invisible to
The rest of the world-
There was no recourse to the fear- or the
Thoughts unbound and windswept by a tornado
As they could be-
There was no recourse to the fear-
Somebody locked the door last night-
When all hope had been pilfered I believed that
My soul had been set afire-
My wishes were none but pipe dreams where there was
No place to run, no place to hide from
Fear, suspicion and rage that
Damaged the very heart, mind and spirit of me-
A prisoner inside this space of life-
This is the box they put me in,
With no recourse to the pain-
Dreams they had for me-
High hopes for a life of fame and fortune-
Though only in their eyes-
I never grew to become a princess, but
None but a prisoner of war-
That is, the war that raged inside of me-
A battle lost and shattered dreams-
Rain, snow, sleet and hail are falling upon
My foundation, weakened and drowning in the midst of
The world of my thoughts in conglomeration
Of commanding voices, and feelings out of control,
Irrational in the eyes of others-
Incoherent even in the eyes of God-
God has forsaken me, my prayers in despair unanswered-
This is the box they put me in.
Unrelenting rage- I am counting every second-
Grasping for hope, reaching for a star to wish upon-
Chained to a wall and behind iron bars, though phantasmal-
The feeling of confinement and helplessness-
Painfully incomprehensible-
There is no recourse to the fear.
There is no recourse to the darkness and
I am blinded by a mask of never ending terror-
I have searched for an exit from this tenement of bleakness-though
The walls are insurmountable-
With no recourse to this battle I have fought every day of my life and
This is the box they put me in- which
Somebody has locked the door to and
Thrown away the key.
-
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is The Language Of Our Deepest Feeling
POETRY IS THE LANGUAGE OF OUR DEEPEST FEELING
Poetry is the language of our deepest feeling
It makes Beauty even of our Darkness
And shares with others our Light.
Without Poetry we would be less in life-
With it,
The inner anguish the soaring of the soul
Our real lives whatever they may be-
Find Meaning in Expression..
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Talk
and so too
i have a dog
whose only
language is
bow. and
wow.
and true to
the limits of
his language
as he walks
and sways
and rolls
and runs like
a dog, and
true indeed to
his nature
this dog comes
before him
and then it makes
the bow and then
believing in his
power and glory
this patriotic and
loyal dog keeps
on saying: wow wow wow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Progress will always have as its recourse to exaggerate what it cannot surpass.
quote by Franz Grillparzer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ink (for Theresa Marie)
As I crease each page with the pressure of my point,
Cutting into the flow of each character,
I strive to lay lines to the surface of meaning.
I attempt to make sense of the flow of my thoughts
As I try to define with each separate line
The value that each gesture strives for.
I cut into pieces the correlation
Among the characters in my narrative;
Between scribing and feeling.
But this contradiction between purpose and process,
Between intention and muscle response,
Belies the nature of liquid.
For the amount of flow,
If nature has its way,
Is determined by the size of its reservoir.
So to finish my thoughts
In the context of language
Do I cede to the size of my pen?
Do I rely on the nature of language?
Or the language of nature’s mien?
poem by Dan Ramirez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To have frequent recourse to narrative betrays great want of imagination.
quote by Lord Chesterfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is a struggle for the minds of the people... No cause justifies recourse to terrorism.
quote by Manmohan Singh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We had, after all, no other recourse to protect ourselves, no other document, let's say, than the Monroe Doctrine. So that could be cited as a cause for intervention if and when it might become necessary.
quote by E. Howard Hunt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Depend upon it that if a man talks of his misfortunes there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him; for where there is nothing but pure misery there never is any recourse to the mention of it.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Great literature, past or present, is the expression of great knowledge of the human heart; great art is the expression of a solution of the conflict between the demands of the world without and that within.
quote by Edith Hamilton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Peace Thy Source!
Peace is the law of nature
When that law is broken
Peace loses its stature
Society's limbs so swollen
Peace! Where is thy source?
From me wnd within me of course
World to take to recourse
To improve quality of human resource!
Love and peace beginning or end
Peace, the mother of plenty
Man needs to comprehend
Means to peace that ends in prosperity!
Peace is the frame of mind
Peace dwells in heart
Peace blossoms from the mind
Peace from every one to start!
Peace in society myth or reality
In our scheme may the theme be a speciality
Build up peace with all sincerity
Spread the fragrance in all our fraternity!
poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While there are two ways of contending, one by discussion, the other by force, the former belonging properly to man, the latter to beasts, recourse must be had to the latter if there be no opportunity for employing the former.
Silence
Silence in the language
Is the absence of speech
Silence in the conversation
Can be so remarkable and rich.
Silence is an atmosphere you make
And it's the situation you break.
Sometimes it tells you more
Than thousand words told before.
Silence is a feeling
Which is very intensive
Poorly created
It can be very offensive.
Silence can be so different
It has a lot of meanings
It's an expression of yourself
It shows your feelings.
There is a silence
That brings you peace
And you feel yourself
Being at your ease.
There is a silence of mystery
Like being in a dark wood.
There is a silence of happiness
When you are loved and understood.
There is a silence that frightens
There is a silence of anniversary dates
This silence reminds you
Of those lost fates.
There is a silence in music
When you listen to it and dream
But...suddenly...it stops.
Then...the sounds come to their extreme.
The prayer in silence
Is your inner world
When you dream in silence
You are just not heard.
Silence is golden
Or so I've heard
But it sometimes hurts more
Than a single told word.
Silence is golden
Or so goes a lie.
This silence of fraud
Do not need a reply.
Silence when you are in love
You do not need words.
Silence when you are fooled
You don't know what to say afterwards.
But...the best moment of silence
When you take my hand
I know you do not pretend
You just look at my eyes and I realize:
It's love, it's happiness.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Thoughts On The Sounds of Silence
The sounds of silence beacons me.
Like the flight of a bumble bee.
For my life is in a quandary. And I am the one who is confused.
All the noise I here has me transfused.
The constant noise is like a cancerous ooze, someone mused.
All this noise has everyone confused.
I pray to God above to bestow me with the sounds of silence.
All human life is in the balance.
With the sounds of silence I believe peace surrounds us.
About this subject I must confess, I need to access.
I must admit that the sounds of silence is for me.
On the sounds of silence many of us do agree
That peace and love needs to be in great balance.
Without the sounds of silence there would be a major imbalance.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Missing
feeling weak today
run the risk of tears
falling down your cheeks
from all the lonely years
holding back your love
while she races up the hill
chase what you dream of
but always standing still
all and all you see
everything is history
think of all that you've been missing
and every now and then
shadows bring you back again
to think of all the things you're missing
lay the pictures out
pull the curtains down
don't let us see you breathe
your happiness you fake
sending up a flare
if anybody really cares
to talk a little while
the past to reconcile
all in all you see
everything is history
think of all the things you're missing
every now and then
i can almost picture him
think of all the things
of all the things
of all the things
well i do
i do
hear the morning creeping in
and the spirit sings again
well you will
you will
see the beauty in this moment
every time you're standing still
time you're standing still
these times are tougher weathered
someday the wind will carry you home
and you'll be free
and you'll be free
no one will pull you down
you'll wake up and look around
and never again
think of all, all that you've been missing
ohh ohh ohh
all that you've been missing
ohh
all and all you see
everything is history
think of all that you've been missing
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noise
Sometimes we crave silence
but everywhere there is noise.
The intrusive noise of a blaring radio
or children screaming at one another
at the top of their lungs.
All you want is silence
and all you get is
noise, noise and more noise.
2 June 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All phenomena are real in some sense, unreal in some sense, meaningless in some sense, real and meaningless in some sense, unreal and meaningless in some sense, and real and unreal and meaningless in some sense.
quote by Robert Anton Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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