Rude contact with facts chased my visions and dreams quickly away, and in their stead I beheld the horrors, the corruption, the evils and hypocrisy of society, and as I stood among them, a young wife, a great wail of agony went out from my soul.
quote by Victoria Woodhull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corruption in India
In the sacred land called Bharat
Corruption has become a habit.
From top brass in authority
To the lower sections and aam aadhmi!
But the menace has gained strong roots
Into every sphere and profession;
All the good that is being done
Is offset by corruption.
Blame corruption for many evils
And vices that plague society;
It is the cause for democracy
Being unable to deliver its fruits!
It is reason for rich becoming richer,
And the poor turning poorer;
It is the cause of price-rise,
And taxes exorbitant!
It is why black-money grows
And black-marketing prevails;
This is why India remains quite poor,
And under developed among world nations!
If only corruption can be curbed,
India will become a paradise;
A billion souls can live in peace,
And prosperity will dwell upon all!
Thanks to one great Indian soul,
Anna Hazare for awakening Indians
Against corruption – root cause of poverty!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 28-08-11
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wail! , Wail! ! , Wail! ! ! for HAITI.
Wail, ! Wail, ! ! Wail for HAITI! ! ! ! ! !
Wail for the sight is Gory,
Wail for the deaths of these Infants
Wail for the deaths of these women, ; young, and Old
Wail for the loss of the productive workforce of this Nation
Wail for the Calamity that came within few seconds to claim thousands of lives.
Wail for the loss of generations of this Land called Haiti
Wail for the Unconsolable mothers, and fathers for the loss of their loved ones
Wail, if you have tears in your tear glands,
Wail, if you have heart that is meek
May the Almighty console us all, for the sights of the dead in the rubbles too frightening to look.
poem by Segun Rasaki
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Corruption
From the drip drip drip of the teardrops
To the chink chink chink of the cash
To the end end end of the friendships
To the wack wack wack of the bash
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
From the tick tick tick of your times up
To the yes yes yes of Ill sell
From the fact fact fact of the souless
To the pact pact pact with hell
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
Corruption corruption corruption
Chills my bones
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
Corruption corruption corruption
Chills my bones
From the scream scream scream of the babies
To the retch retch retch of the youth
From the lie lie lie of the righteous
To the lost lost lost way I feel
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my bones
Corruption corruption corruption
Chills my bones
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
Corruption corruption corruption
Rules my soul
Corruption
Corruption
Order in the court
Decision to abort
The monkey wants to speak
So speak, monkey speak
Speak monkey, speak
Speak monkey, speak
Speak monkey, speak
Everything leads to corruption
Everything leads to corruption
Corruption
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Wife’s Second Husband
THE WORLD goes round, old fellow,
And still I’m in the swim,
While my wife’s second husband
Is growing old and grim.
I meet him in the city—
It all seems very tame—
He glances at me sometimes
As if I were to blame.
Oh, my wife’s second husband
Was handsome, young and true;
He had his boyish visions
(I had my visions too).
He made a model lover—
The greenest in the game—
They say, when I was married
That I was just the same.
Though I am ten years older
My hair is dark to-day,
While my wife’s second husband
Is quickly growing grey.
I drank when first he knew me,
And he drank not at all;
I see that he, through drinking,
Is going to the wall.
A sweet ill-treated woman,
A drunken brute (Good Lord!)—
Ah, well, she got her freedom,
And he got his reward.
He’ll fight it out a season,
For Fate will not be forced,
But my wife’s second husband
Shall surely be divorced.
I sympathize, and wonder
What mutual friends would think
If my wife’s second husband
And I should have a drink.
And I a mere bystander—
It almost seems absurd—
Might lay prophetically
My hand on my wife’s third.
But my wife’s second husband
His sorrows shall forget,
We’ll clasp warm hands in friendship
And clink our glasses yet.
We’ll smoke cigars together,
In pure philosophy,
While calmly contemplating
The fate of number three.
poem by Henry Lawson
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I Am Proud To Say
the horrors
of life, we were
there to confront
all the horrors
of life,
at first it was
a struggle to be
free
and then it is not
anymore
it has become
a lifestyle
and so we get
used to all
these horrors
and they are not
horrors anymore
they become
facts that we
face everyday
without anymore
the fear
these everyday
every minute
we conquer them
with nothing
but a blank face
this numbness
that chews
what seemingly
is horrible
at first but now
they have become
us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The radio talks about corruption
As i take breakfast
The radio speaks
About the recent scandal
On corruption
Of school funds
Ghost Gyms and
Ghost schools somewhere
In the South
2.5 Million in their pockets
Time has changed
Corruption has become one big cliche
In My own society
Nothing will change
Except how i view corruption
It is a way of life and I shall learn
To live with it.
Meanwhile, i change the station
To classical music
That lasts its purity and kindness forever
Relaxes my soul
Strengthens what weakness
Wants to die
The radio talks of corruption
Nothing's new and I turn it off.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Rude
Just a little rude can ruin someones day,
being rude a little bit,
is like swimming in a vest,
rude is like swimming with no trunks on,
kissing in the dark,
was it him? or was it her?
and eating from a bag ewe left open on the counter
for several days.
The decadance of Society, RUDE,
has finally sickened me,
the only thing to do is pray to GOD
to quicken me.
When the hours pass too quickly,
and the days pass just like hours
the months appear to me like weeks gone bye.
These aer the things eye am searching for.
A Kind Word.
A Smile.
A Happy Kiss.
A While.
Time is a blessing.
Keep Time In Today.
poem by Charles Hice
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On The Day Of The Destruction Of Jerusalem By Titus
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,
I beheld thee, oh Sion! when render'd to Rome:
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home,
And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;
I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,
And the fast-fetter'd hands that made vengeance in vain.
Oh many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed
Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed;
While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline
Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine.
And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
But I mark'd not the twilight beam melting away;
Oh! would that the lightning had glared in its stead,
And the thunderbolt burst on the conqueror's head!
But the gods of the Pagan shall never profane
The shrine where Jehovah disdain'd not to reign;
And scatter'd and scorn'd as thy people may be,
Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee.
Back To The Facts
From minds the chains are gone.
From minds the chains are gone.
From minds the chains are gone.
From minds the chains are gone.
And it's...
Back to the facts.
Back to unpack those facts,
Packed.
Back to the facts!
To dust them off and stack them tall.
Back to the facts...
To unwrap and stack.
Medieval evils,
No longer can be forced on people.
Walls are falling.
And used as steps for those who crawl.
To see life without limits,
With a higher consciousness.
And it's...
Back to the facts.
Back to unpack those facts,
Packed.
Back to the facts!
To dust them off and stack them tall.
Back to the facts...
To unwrap and stack.
Medieval evils,
From minds the chains are gone...
To keep the people,
From a...
Bouncing off the walls.
Medieval evils,
From minds the chains are gone...
To keep the people,
From a...
Bouncing off the walls.
And it's...
Back to the facts.
Back to unpack those facts,
Packed.
Back to the facts!
To dust them off and stack them tall.
Back to the facts...
To unwrap and stack.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome
(On the Day of the Destruction of Jerusalem by Titus)
I
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,
I beheld thee, Oh Sion! when rendered to Rome:
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
II
I look'd for thy temple, I look'd for my home,
And forgot for a moment my bondage to come;
I beheld but the death-fire that fed on thy fane,
And the fast-fetter'd hands that made vengeance in vain.
III
Oh many an eve, the high spot whence I gazed
Had reflected the last beam of day as it blazed;
While I stood on the height, and beheld the decline
Of the rays from the mountain that shone on thy shrine.
IV
And now on that mountain I stood on that day,
But I marked not the twilight beam melting away;
Oh! would that the lightning had glared in its stead,
And the thunderbolt burst on the conqueror's head!
V
But the Gods of the Pagan shall never profane
The shrine where Jehovah disdain'd not to reign;
And scattered and scorn'd as thy people may be,
Our worship, oh Father! is only for thee.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dreams And Visions
Dreams;
Facts that keep flying away
From the paths of reality
Into the driveways of insanity
And there, they mock humanity
That pursues them for eternity
Then they lead us into depravity
But dreams are birds that flee from reality
Visions;
The strings that hold the future
And hang around in the paths of reality
Neither illusions nor misconceptions
Vision if fate in a nutshell
That holds our destiny transparent
And reveals all the current
That makes the energy of life.
Dreams fly, Visions stand the test of time
poem by Timothy muggaga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is only by introducing the young to great literature, drama and music, and to the excitement of great science that we open to them the possibilities that lie within the human spirit -- enable them to see visions and dream dreams.
quote by Eric Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shellshock
The horrors in store when men go to war,
Will break the fragile hearts of men.
When those men come home to kiss and hug their wives and kids,
They won't be the same.
Their eyes have seen the death and distruction that war leaves in it's path, these men will never be the same.
They are shellshocked,
Forced to repeat those horrors again and again.
They are shellshocked,
War tears out the hearts of men.
Johnathan came home from Iraq,
He has a wife and two kids.
The horrors were haunting his mind,
back in the kitchen his wife dropped a pan.
He's now doing 5-10 in a 8x10,
All for the Iraq war.
He is shellshocked,
He is paying for his country pride.
He is shellshocked,
War tore the heart out of that man.
poem by J.D. Decker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace Is Vital.
Peace is vital for human survival!
If there is no peace, there will be war!
In time of war
Guns and bombs fill the air with dread
And crowd the streets with bodies of the maimed and dead.
Because of war
The young, the old, the innocent baby
All suffer with the guilty.
When men war
Earth cannot yield
Flora and fauna shrivel and die
And national coffers quickly run dry.
Because of war
There's human blood like water flowing
Poverty, disease and the agony of dying
Surround and overwhelm the living.
The horrors of war
Should bring vividly to mind
That Peace is the goal
To be sought after
By all mankind.
poem by CHERYL winter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Corruption Is Global
Corruption is a global phenomenon
It has gained in roads into every sphere and level
People are so fed up of the monster
It is high time, it must be destroyed
Corruption is so rampant
It poisons every society
Sparing none in its wake
The common man most suffers
Corruption is an incurable disease
It cannot be wiped out but curbed
Politics and governments thrive by it
The end of the road is unclear
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a great passion!
I am a great passion!
I want to reap your soul to mine
Know that I am a great passion that will consume your mind
Your senses aflame with the fires I light
You will desire me so, do you see any point in flight
Throbbing, breathless till I relieve your sweet agony
I decide, to hold or grant the ecstasy
All this and more, your dreams will come true
Only if your soul longs for me too!
poem by Anita Atina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only the old are innocent. That is what the Victorians understood, and the Christians. Original sin is a property of the young. The old grow beyond corruption very quickly.
quote by Malcolm Bradbury
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sanctity Of Dreams
Paint a moustache on the Mona Lisa
Ride a Harley through the heart of danger
Pick up a pen and fight a war for the right to dream
I was seventeen
Give up my house, sleep for nights on concrete
Meditate with all the bums on Vine Street
No more running, no more hiding in the house of the dead
I think I'll grow some dreads
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
I dream of loving, of the empty graveyard
I dream of Vegas and the transcendental wildcard
A place where noone waits to die before they go into the light
And just the blind have sight
I follow nothing but the compass of my instinct
No matter where it leads, I know it will take me to the brink
And leave me there by myself and all alone with my dreams
Can you hear my scream?
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Ooh ooh ooh
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Oh-oh
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Society
Society will never dream like me
Society
Society
Society will never dream like me
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sanctity Of Dreams
Paint a moustache on the Mona Lisa
Ride a Harley through the heart of danger
Pick up a pen and fight a war for the right to dream
I was seventeen
Give up my house, sleep for nights on concrete
Meditate with all the bums on Vine Street
No more running, no more hiding in the house of the dead
I think I'll grow some dreads
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
I dream of loving, of the empty graveyard
I dream of Vegas and the transcendental wildcard
A place where noone waits to die before they go into the light
And just the blind have sight
I follow nothing but the compass of my instinct
No matter where it leads, I know it will take me to the brink
And leave me there by myself and all alone with my dreams
Can you hear my scream?
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Ooh ooh ooh
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Oh-oh
I believe in the sanctity of dreams
No more running from these masqueraders
I believe that society will never dream like me
Never dream like me
Society
Society will never dream like me
Society
Society
Society will never dream like me
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Poem I Can Write / That Can Deal With The Threats
There is no poem I can write
That can deal with the threats
To our very existence-
There is no poem I can write
That can imagine the horrors
We might go through-
Nothing I say and nothing I know
Can prepare
For the evils that might come-
We live on the edge of an ‘abyss’
For which ‘abyss’ is a tame word
And we get by each day
By ignoring the ‘hells’ that might come to us-
Evils worse than death may await us
And nothing I say or write
Can contend with this-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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