For most men, life is a search for the proper manila envelope in which to get themselves filed.
quote by Clifton Fadiman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For most men life is a search for the proper manila envelope in which to get themselves filed.
quote by Clifton Fadiman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Search It
search anything
in your life
search any thing...
you search u got it...
you did not search
waste of life time...
you search any thing
any time search...
not only google.com
search all ways
what do u want...?
search it
the life is search only
you search your inner
you got many more...
search with you...
search the another's
and search the world...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is not a series of gig-lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end. Is it not the task of the novelist to convey this varying, this unknown and uncircumscribed spirit, whatever aberration or complexity it may display, with as little mixture of the alien and external as possible? We are not pleading merely for courage and sincerity; we are suggesting that the proper stuff of fiction is a little other than custom would have us believe it.
quote by Virginia Woolf
Submitted by anonym
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I Search
I search for that something called an Identity
I search for the eternally dynamic being called 'me'
I search for that ever-elusive ray of Hope
That'll steady my walk on life's tightrope
I search for that stroke of Brilliance
That'll make me stand out among millions
I search for that much-needed Common Sense
That'll help me to decipher utter nonsense
I search for that slippery thing called Fame
That'll erase all my past memories of shame
I search for that quality called Tenacity
That'll help me cope with life's complexity
I search for that something called a Carefree Life
That'll remove me from worries and Danger's knife
I search for something called an Identity
And I still search for that being called 'me'
poem by Rony Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They've just gone over the line in my opinion, and again, there's a proper time for a pat down, there's a proper time for an advanced technology body search, but it has to be done with some thought.
Vicarious
you're off to Mindoro
on a night flight from Davao
to Manila
i am bound for Manila
on an early morning flight
for a conference
in Faura
we're heading finally to
a new direction in our lives
to start this new year
with a lot of missions
you go for the smile
i will try, but for the meantime i keep
my mouth shut
i like you (i doubt if this is
love, it is just a very sensitive issue)
i may follow you
and pursue you (till the end of my
life, but when? and where?)
the hands of morality grip me by the throat
giving me the signals
that it really means what it says
you know what i mean.
i still have fences to mend.
there will be a nice hello.
hot and sizzling barbecue.
the goodbye will be as cold as
frozen meat
who knows, i will eat it raw.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Search the life
Life is
Search
Search life
Intresting to go on
You did not serch
Boor with boor...
In Internet yahoo search
Google search
Also thear...
Very for intresting...
Very good for using...
At net...
So...
Search your life
Safe with you...
You live your style too happy...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alankar(Decor) -102
The Rising Long-Street(Envelope Quatrain)
Envelope Quatrain is a rhymed 4 line unit, 'the envelope' refers to the rhyme scheme abba. The bb is enveloped by the aa. An envelope can also be axxa with x being unrhymed.
The Rising Long-Street
Somewhat black somewhat grey
Somewhat bluing silvery the fluorescence
On an oath by lighted hands
Long street rises for the day
Darkled white in blackish grey barks
Here once there once but not witchy
Flower-thieves pillow their bags bunchy
Flee away while milk-man harks
Hymns and sings and rings to allay
The God in split-free spheres
Walks and jogs and runs in speedy spirits
Long street risen for the day
Puddled shades of sprinkled waters
Cheered kolams sheen and punchy
Wishes of good-morning up and stretchy
Life in Long street on in summer- blotters
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Keep It Proper
Keep it proper!
You never know on you who might peep.
When you do a thing discreet.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Especially when you're seen in the streets.
You never know on you who might peep.
Keep,
It
Proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Distorting what you do to deceive.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
When a seeker seeks a weakness to heat.
You never know on you who might peep.
Controversy lovers love it,
More obscene.
People feed sensations that wound and bleed.
With a caring less of who's affected by misdeeds
Keep,
It
Proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Distorting what you do to deceive.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
When a seeker seeks a weakness to heat.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best
That you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it is best
That you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it is best that you keep it proper,
That business to express on the streets.
You never know,
On you
Who might peep.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Manila
the dead are scattered
buried without the rituals
it's a pity, we are crying
about the victims of this calamity
nature claims
what rightfully belongs to its
hands
manila, you are warned
when will you start to mend your ways?
tomorrow will be too late
the trees once sobbed but manila
you never really cared
you dance your nights in sin and plunder
now the victims lay dead
many are homeless and hungry
with nowhere to go
you weep for they are your children
they are your fathers and mothers
your wives and husbands
now, you must hit your breasts
with your fists
now, you must reform your ways.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eating A Bullet
Speaking to ghosts
Sitting next to the soldiers of the past.
Where did we go so wrong?
Why is it taking so long?
A new discovery.
A new dream.
Building something not as dull as it seems.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
Speaking to the ones I love most.
Telling them I did the best I could.
Knowing that it no longer even matters.
I'm of the wrong time and age.
A hippie at heart.
Loving the world as its being torn apart
Divide and conquer.
That is what I see today.
Playing all their silly games.
I will not par take.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I want to take in all your pain.
I want to take in all your hate.
I want to take in all your anger.
Just let me eat all this suffering in one gulp.
Swallow it all down.
Hold it deep inside.
And just maybe I can make it to the other side.
A place where I can rest my head
Without worrying about all of you.
And what you must be going through.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
The after life must be nice.
But at what price.
Will my helping hand ever suffice.
Everybody wants something and nobody is willing to give up anything.
So take it from me.
Give me the lashings.
Make me wear the crown of thorns.
Inflict every evil known to man.
Just leave them alone.
Let me be the victim of your ignorance.
Hate me because I want you to.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I will never stand for it.
I will jump in the middle every time.
Not to pick sides.
But to lye defenseless for someone else.
Me before the child.
Me before the mother.
Me before the father.
A savior of none, but a victim from it all.
My daily life will not be measured by thing I did for myself.
But instead what I did for you.
Not because you asked.
I don't care if its what you wanted.
A forced sacrifice.
Solid as a block of ice.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I'm sorry just run.
I take the brunt of it.
Its not my fault but I don't even care.
Sometimes you have to do things out of love.
Even if it means I will die.
It's not even my fight.
That's why I will just be another punching bag.
As the lights dim.
I know soon my life will end.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
song, lyrics by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y' In Your Name?
The divining rod which is searching for water
Looks like a Y if you remember.
With your Y in all your life you will be a searcher,
Going on with an open mind for something newer.
Some of you will search for some new wisdom,
Some just for a newer flower blossom,
Big or small search all brings something new,
Even if you just search constantly for your keys, a tool or a screw.
If you choose to search for spiritual wisdom,
Your life can change for an everlasting stardom.
So, choose wisely how to use your Y,
Search for something useful, not just asking aimlessly, why?
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Personal
In an envelope marked:
PERSONAL
God addressed me a letter.
In an envelope marked:
PERSONAL
I have given my answer.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Search For Me
Search for me with your nakedness and i will be ready for you,
Search for me with your mind and i will lead you on,
Search for me with your peace i will care for you,
Search for me with your kindness and i will humble you,
And like the cares of this world and the care of this life;
But, woe to those who call evil righteous.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Address That Any Way You Wish
Here is the envelope,
You pressured me to get!
And no more from me,
Do you get to lick.
Address that any way you wish, .
I am not going to upset...
A solitude I met.
Before my mind took steps,
To satisfy my curiosity...
And select,
With a determination to get...
Quick pieces from the gutter.
I did not expect solitude to bring me joy.
And you...
Are doing your best to scent the air with 'bad vibes'.
Why?
Why wish to deliver venom.
With or without a proper cause?
Why can't you stamp that out of your mind?
You must be the kind who likes to establish mystery...
To qualify your victims!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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La Naval De Manila, My Mother
'Sa Iyong kandungan aking natikman ang unang pagmamahal. Kahit musmos pa, kapiling ka aking ina.'
Happiness, gladness, as I remember those old days.
We can surely say that we are lucky, but how?
The only thing in my life that I have is my mom.
My mom, my mom.
October 2,2008 was the enthonement of La Naval de Manila.
I was there at exactly 4: 30 pm.
The throne was empty.
Then at 5: 10 pm the lady went out of her royal room.
She was wearing her regalia, and a short procession was done.
I was seated at the left panel of the altar (I was lucky) . As she proceeded to her throne, I was crying.
Why? I remember my mom, La Naval's image is too motherly.
An affection of a mother and a son.
Tears fell. I did not able to touch her because of a certain shock.
My Queen, My Mother.
October 12,2008, I attended the annual the annual procession of The La Gran Señora de Filipinas La Naval De Manila.
Like what I have stated, I am a great devotee of the La Naval De Manila. I was there at around 9am, I wasvery happy to see the Lady standing in her Baldachino.
At around five in the afternoon, the procession went out,
as the mcee shoutedher name,
La Naval de Manila,
I hurriedly went to see her,
again the Lady was smiling in her carozza.
I said 'Kayo na po ang bahala sa amin.' That is the power of La Naval, powerful, motherly and majestic.
La Naval de Manila is like my mom.
My mom had battles, sufferings, and sorrows.
But my mom is a great warrior, like what the Lady did in the battle.
My mom continued the battle despite my father died.
What is the similarity of La Naval and my mom, both of them are brave. When Mary saw her dying son Jesus, she cried silently.
When my mom saw her two boys suferring she cried silently.
When Mary saw her son going to heaven, she was happy.
When my mom saw me going up on stage to receive my diploma, she cried, tears of joy fell.
Now that is what we call Women's power. Battles?
Yes, I believe that my mom is still having her battles.
Next year, October 2009, once again the La Naval will be placed in her royal baldachino,
she will hear songs again in her honor,
she will have a procession once again.
The Faith that my mom and I have will always continue,
it will always be there.
Without La Naval, the battles that we had will never be surpassed. Thank you, Our Lady of La Naval.
Thank you.
poem by Randolfh Bunag
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's precisely the disappointing stories, which have no proper ending and therefore no proper meaning, that sound true to life.
quote by Max Frisch
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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432
When You Got In
I Went Out
Such Is The Wrong Timing
Of Your
Compassion
Then We Talk
About The Proper Timing
Of Our Desires
You Set The Time, The Place, And The Mood
Now It Is Not Just Desire But
Love
Yes, Love,
But Sometimes I Still Wonder
What Love Is
When Two People Meet At The Proper Time
The Proper Place, And The Proper Mood
When Everything Seems Right
And Yet
Feels So Wrong
When Everything Is Supposedly Proper
And Yet
There Is Still This
Feeling Of Impropriety
I Am 48 Years Old And You Are 49
And I Am Just Asking
When We All Want To Be Inside The Room Of
Ecstacy
And Yet
They All Want Us
Out
Just Because They Also Feel
That The Timing May Be Right
But It Simply Does Not
Look All Right
And Then You Are A Little
Bit Irritated And You Ask
Finally
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wrong Timing
when you got in
i went out
such is the wrong timing
of your
compassion
then we talk
about the proper timing
of our desires
you set the time, the place, and the mood
now it is not just desire but
love
yes, love,
but sometimes i still wonder
what love is
when two people meet at the proper time
the proper place, and the proper mood
when everything seems right
and yet
feels so wrong
when everything is supposedly proper
and yet
there is still this
feeling of impropriety
i am 48 years old and you are 49
and i am just asking
when we all want to be inside the room of
ecstacy
and yet
they all want us
out
just because they also feel
that the timing may be right
but it simply does not
look all right
and then you are a little bit irritated and you ask
finally:
why do you talk too much?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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IN LOVE WITH WHAT YOU AIN'T...by talile ali
IN LOVE WITH WHAT YOU AIN'T
I MET A GIRL NAMED MANILA
SWEET AS SHE CAN BE
EVERY TIME ID SEE HER
MY HEART WOULD GO CRAZY
WAS SHE SOMETHING SPECIAL
I CAN'T REALLY SAY
NEVER REALLY KNEW HER
IN THAT SPECIAL WAY
LIFES A PAIN AND THAT A FACT
PEOPLE FUELIN BACK TO BACK
I'M IN LOVE WITH WHERE YOUR AT
AS I SEE YOU DOIN IT
NAILIN' BASTARDS
LATE INTO THE NITE
THE WAY YOU BALLIN
JUST AIN'T RIGHT
SAY YOU GOTTA DO IT
TILL YOU GET TIGHT
I GET SO JEALOUS
I WANK OFF EACH NIGHT
I CAN'T HELP WONDERIN
WHY WE NEVER BALLED
WE BOTH HAVE HUNGERS
WHICH WE NEED RESOLVED
SHE RANTS ON ABOUT HOW SHE'S LOVIN THE SEX
I CAN'T HELP BUT FEELIN' A LITTLE BIT VEXED
SHE'S NAILIN ALL THESE SUCKERS, THATS RIGHT
WHO TREAT HER LIKE WORN OUT SQUAT EVERY NIGHT
THE SNOW'S BEHIND ME
MY BAGS ARE ALL PACKED
I'M OFF, MANILA
AND I WON'T BE BACK
SHE IS THE REAL DEALER
REAL THRILLA KILLA
LOOKING FOR A COUPLA
TWENTIES TO FILL'ER
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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