I can't tell you if the use of force in Iraq today will last five days, five weeks or five months, but it won't last any longer than that.
quote by Donald Rumsfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Around the corner
I wont tell you the stories he has told me,
or the reason why for weeks and months
he couldn't sleep.
About the walk around the corner,
he kept walking round that corner,
walking round that corner
for days and months and weeks.
That isn't my story to tell you, only his;
but I can tell you that he walks around
that corner through his days
and through his weeks.
I can tell you that he marched them home
leading from the front,
right down through the Guildhall
to the sound of thudding drum.
I can tell you that he marched all those
young boys home.
All of them, but one.
poem by Diana Rosser
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How Time Feels Without You
Seconds are like days
Minutes are like weeks
Hours are like months
Days are like years
Weeks are like centuries
When I'm away from you
poem by Steve Yeager
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You saved me....
I walked down a endless black tunnel.
I gave up hope and I gave up looking.
I wasn't truly happy.
I wore fake smiles.
There wasn't much reason for me to go to school.
I would walk for hours.
Hours turned to days.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months of walking in my lonely despair.
After a few months I began to see light.
When i surfaced you were the first one to catch my attention.
You pulled me out.
You made me happy.
You gave me reason to go to school.
You brought me out of my lonely despair.
And for that I thank you, and I will love you till the end of time maybe even longer.
poem by Kendra Swan
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Time Is Of The Essance
The days pass from one to another
coming and going as the melting snow
days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months
the clock spins faster with every passing second
you cant rewind the past
you cant speed up the future
sometimes all you can do is press play
poem by Damien Weber
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2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts
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The summer it snowed
Blue skies
yards of green
flowers of mulitude
among such wonderess gifts
I walk towards my ever nearing
winter
My lungs full of dirty snow
I hear not the singing of birds
but the calling of my black forcast
Summer
kids play
boats sail
I succum
no longer able to shovel
the snow away
Yet in peace in tread
for months are now weeks
and soon weeks will be days
For me spring brought fall
and the summer brought
snow
and the winter will bring
my forever peace
poem by Vincent Armone
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8 Weeks
8 weeks to live
8 weeks to die
8 weeks is all they had
8 weeks to do the things they never did
8 weeks of fighting
8 weeks of trying to fit everything in
8 weeks of pain, suffering, and confusion
8 weeks of faking a smile
8 weeks of repetition
8 weeks of knowing they were nearing the end
8 weeks of love from friends and family
8 weeks…the shortest/longest, most hurtful/helpful weeks of their lives
8 weeks later…knowing they’ll never be able to do the things they’ve always wanted to
8 weeks later…now realizing he’ll never see her walk, at graduation nor down the aisle
8 weeks later…close friends and family now in shambles
8 weeks later…close friends and family never closer
8 weeks later…here we are
poem by Anthony Martello
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There was expectations that the fights there, the operation there might be extended for several months, even for several years. But within a few weeks it ended, because obviously the Taliban wasn't a real force.
quote by Bulent Ecevit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have I said enough?
Nothing more to reflect and nothing more to say,
Enough and no more; did I cover it all completely?
Days may roll over into months, and months into years,
Impervious yet, never the need to say anything more on this...
Alas! Everything doesn’t happen at once; else, what could Time mean to any one,
An instalment in reality is what we get through in each instance of Time and no more,
As of today, what I know is what I assume; and that undoubtedly will mature some more tomorrow,
Today, I had hoped to have said enough to seal my lips forever; but will my retirement stick through?
poem by Ram Josyula
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If today is your typical day in America, 80 of our fellow citizens will die from gunfire. In the last two weeks, more Americans have died from gunfire here at home in the United States than in the entire war in Iraq since it started.
quote by Michael D. Barnes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Faithful Person
Degrees of the planet I await from the sun,
A careful blend of drink that is drunk,
By the skin and the brain,
Less of the monument I stank.
Doctor likes the request to be made,
That a solitude is about,
A faithful person is always betrayed
Into the causes he is at bout.
The disease is procured by the prevention
I detest in the initial phases.
It will cure you, my love, of all dimension,
I detest the treatment of these days.
Days and nights, weeks and months,
Go by and by like a talking nightmare,
Foreign to the power of the sevenths
Of the weeks that are day-care.
I think it ridiculous of your jolt,
I’d like to think it a blessing,
That I am adult,
And it delivered a caressing.
poem by Naveed Akram
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How it begins
Two opposites meet
Is a pity I am not accurate biologically
My aim is to inspire logically
Infancy is where it all begins
Childhood is mandatory
Formal education is compulsory
How it begins?
It‘s start with a dream
Manifestos into a vision
Requires a little bit of passion
Typically the primary years are similar
Avoid cold, do your homework sounds familiar
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
Explore life explore nature get fascinated by pears
Eventually graduate if you put effort to your aptitude
Old adage about your attitude determining your altitude
How it begins?
You move to next stage called adulthood
Big dreams you want to elevate out of the hood
Get a nice job, statistically classified with those who can afford
Discover you not complete on your own
Get a spouse. Go all romantic than comes the up and down
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
Explore life explore nature get fascinated by pears
Eventually have kids then; squeeze them into your budget
How it begins?
You discover there is more to offer the world
Conflict, disappointment becomes part of you
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
You not fond of mirrors any more
All the lessons you learned become your reality
Change in colour of your hair
Nostalgic attacks!
You only worry about your off-springs future
How it begins?
Time to look back and say wow
Pity I cannot define life
You be lucky if you die with your wife
poem by Magodi Khutso Makaleng
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The sad times
The sad times come to stay
There never far away
Seconds and minutes away
Hours and days away
Weeks and months away
Years and tears away
It is just a sad time away
From being sad all day
It comes as sad as it could
Anytime, anywhere, anyhow
Giving me a new identity
It is sad in all colours
Sad times to me reminds
Of happy times filled by smiles
Of love in the afterlife
Of happiness in sadness
Today I think Ill be sad
Tomorrow Is sure to be just as bad
I wonder when I will be again glad
Its not worth worrying or Im sure to go
...mad...
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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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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In The Smallest Of Things
when chapters become books,
and passion becomes love...
written in hours and minutes,
in days and weeks...
and weeks become months,
and months become years...
footsteps woven into one.
days of work for nights of small things...
food, fire, children, good books
and good wine...
quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,
the candle lit by touching
in the darkest hours...
do we forget, do we lose memory,
do thoughts become echoes.
bricks laid by sweat and toil
are lost in the wall...
need becomes distance,
and curtains fall.....
you stare at the body,
as if some stranger...
and a lifetime given
like tiny shards of light,
nails covered with rust,
the spider's web empty.
only the trees know,
mountains, and lost caves.
raindrops falling,
and moonlight never named.
the dog barking in the night,
you think for no reason...
ah! but love testifies,
in the smallest of things!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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terrorism ***** SADDAM HUSSEIN IN NEW IRAQ
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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saddam Hussein In New Iraq
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Iraq
The Garden of Eden is in Iraq,
But today we've destroyed that land with bombs!
And life is like an arrow which follows the narrow path.
Go to Iraq and look for the four Riverheads,
Of Pishon, Gihon, Tigris and Euphrates;
There you will gain wisdom to enhance your status.
A River went out of the Garden of Eden,
And it parted and became Four Riverheads;
But the fruit of Eden was pleasant to the eye-sight and,
Desirable for food like what the serpent gave to Eve.
A deep sleep fell unto man and,
Out of him came woman;
So go to Iraq today to see things for yourselves.
She lived luxuriously and had no sorrow,
But the morrow came and she has to borrow;
Like the works of man and the things we do learn from,
With an arrow to follow our footpaths always.
Go to Iraq today and learn from what you see,
It was the same land where the Garden of Eden was positioned;
The Creator made it very beautiful for us but,
We've destroyed the land!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Come again another day
We plan
Act, but not always adequately
So we run short
Of what we planned
We say
Come again another day
We will accomplish
What we have in our mind
Comes that day
We act, not adequately again
We console ourselves
Come again another day
Days pass by
Turn into weeks
Months and years
We keep telling
Come again another day
We never get that another day
Entire lifetime
We spend in search of
That another day
All of us know
Which day is that day
And which day has no
Another day
No one knows
How far or near that day is
So
Plan, strictly adhere to the plan
Accomplish your tasks
Then and there
Even if they fall short of perfection
Before landing on that day
When you cannot any longer be telling
Come again another day
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Last Three Weeks 5-11-09
The last three weeks are:
crazy
heaktic
busy
tireing
exaugh sting
The last three weeks are:
full of test
parties
exams
food
movies
The last three weeks are:
exciting
emotional
no seniors, well for a week
losts of homework
no homework
The last three weeks mean
that school is almost out,
start counting down the days,
graduation,
awards,
SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! !