I live a perfectly happy and comfortable life in Blair's Britain, but I can't work up much affection for the culture we've created for ourselves: it's too cynical, too knowing, too ironic, too empty of real value and meaning.
quote by Jonathan Coe

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without You
Feel so alone and sad
As if the meaning of being alive, exists no more
Nothing I have and nobody is here for me
Often, I feel so lost
Do not know where I belong, since without you life has no meaning
It is better to die than to live a lost life
I know you do not hear me anymore because you simply do not care
Knowing, I will have to be without you for the rest of my life
Feels really terrible and no words can explain this sadness of mine
An empty life I have
In which I am just a lost soul, with no meaning left to live
It is better to die, although even death does not come that easily
Just feel very sad, without you my love.
poem by Rohit Sapra

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We Would Of Been Happy Together
What I want
I cannot have
I want him
And he don't want me
It's a shame
I could actually show him
I can and will care for him
I can promise I will do that
He won't let anyone in
If he only let me in
He would know I would never hurt him
My plan is to love him
I could show him the meaning of love
I can and will tell I love him everyday
He would be perfectly happy with me
And I would be perfectly happy with him
I actually think WE would be happy together
poem by Makayla Straight

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Approve With Each Nibble As You Taste It
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you and do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can be you but you.
And make that choice to do what you choose.
With a taking of a bite out of life to taste.
Savoring it and enjoying this too!
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you to do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can truly approve...
With each nibble as you taste it,
Without limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I am a passionate believer that Britain has benefited the whole world and that our heritage, our culture, our values and more importantly our people who created those things, are worth fighting for.
quote by Steve Blake

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You've Blinded Yourself
Ironic isn't it? We die with no breath, yet with every breath taken,
death creeps ever so slowly upon us, clandestinely killing us, unbeknownst to us.
Ironic isn't it? We would die for what is right, yet we die when we do what is wrong. We live in a world that abhors the right, yet with what is wrong, the Son of Sin is born.
Funny isn't it? They say Light and Darkness cannot exist without the other, but Darkness dies with Light. Light needs not Darkness to live.
Funny isn't it? You try to to kill me now, and laugh when I stumble.
I wonder if you'll be laughing when your swimming in the Lake of Fire and Sulphur. In fact, look into my eyes, if you dare, and see ME laugh as I watch you die.
Such irony in this life you've created, killing us off one by one. In reality it is Death wearing Life's cloak. 'Tis amusing too, you still think your going to win. Pathetic actually. Oh well, too bad.
poem by Soren Valentine

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Ironic Life
How Ironic life is...
I smile- but the madness of a dying soul was written on my face.
I laugh- but serene sadness was painted on my eyes.
I talk and talk but hide the secrets
till i found myself in my own silence.
Silence is pure, but silence poisons the soul.
See me now broken as you made me whole before.
How ironic love is...
I drank the cup of Love
though i know it is poisonous.
Now i lost the man i loved the most.
And our story is lost in silence,
lost with the wind.
I cant remember how happy i had been.
How ironic love is...
he who survives me, snared my soul;
with a snare which bled me to death.
There is something about death like love itself.
Now i see myself as a lifeless soul;
like a broken-winged eagle facing his fall.
How ironic life is...
it started as fire,
till the fire is nothing but a light.
It takes life to understand this ironic life!
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar

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Living the Dream
What would it be like to live the dream
People reading my poems and knowing what they mean
What would it be like to live the dream
Every where I went people knowning who they seen
What would it be like to live the dream
Be like shakespear or someone talented I don’t even come near
What would it be like to live the dream
Without living everyday wanting to scream
What would it be like to live the dream
At only the age that I am 18
What would it be like to live the dream
Of being happy in life and working with a team
What would it be like to live the dream
Get my work out there and people would care
What would it be like to live the dream
of being famous and hearing people scream
what would it be like to live the dream
people reading my poems and knowing what they mean
poem by Stephanie Mcgrath

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Jerry We live in a cynical world. A cynical world. And we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you. You... complete me.
quote by Jerry Maguire

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cynical Baby Downtown
'Soothing voices are announcing,
cynical baby downtown,
another suppression of hope,
a day of compulsory dancing,
cynical baby downtown,
and subliminal sex, guns and dope.
The mistress of rude assumptions,
cynical baby downtown,
is trying to give us a clue,
displaying the bodily functions,
cynical baby downtown,
of what I might mean to you.
Old men are showing photographs,
cynical baby downtown,
of some of the targets we hit;
I guess the animal that laughs,
cynical baby downtown,
has had a testosterone fit.
And the party went ballistic,
cynical baby downtown,
but no one was to blame;
it was your explosive lipstick,
cynical baby downtown,
that had just spoken my name.'
poem by Nancy Ames

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Pieces Of Pieces (Ed 2)
i hope all and every piece of pieces
of life comes a journey
to start yet another journey
of life
as we do live a life
in grace and blessings of the most high
to live as people of peoples and nations
from yard and abroad
as we inter-act with those we never ever imagined
we could know nor share a word of business with
but through the nature of the almighty and creation
we met to gather and share
a tradition of culture and flair
a unity of people connecting
and linked by culture
a spiritual necessity of the community
of kasane and plateau
and the villages of the enclave
to a cultural spectrum of culture
as we do live a life
a journey from within each of us as people
to gather and gain to share
and give an emotional strength
to a thought, of some sort...
at that time, on a sunny sunday
blessed is this sunday my dear
well, my thoughts are well to a river
as i carry me a river
there by sevuva river of the rapids
and stay put to meditate and relate
with nature and existence in its form
whence me come a river
and listen to the birds
so mellow
and the river peoples of the impalila island
a stone throw
across the chobe-zambezi river
this sand
on my feet i could feel
the hotness
of an adventure and breeze
let me take you by the rapids....
and go sevuva rapids....
***extract from 'pieces of pieces of life' march 2012 ebook
a people with focus, patience and determination is a people. a lady with self respect, intelligence, stillness, love and affection is a one good and blessed lady. a man with energy, go-getting, attentive, self respect, love and affection is a real godly man.
this means we all need some love to get and give and likewise.
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema

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Song: Popular Culture
Oh I'm sick to death of spin,
And this banal, self-serving sin,
That justifies usurpation like a king.
When shove will come to push,
Weilding power without blush,
This vigilante State is so right-wing!
Pop, pop, popular history,
Grows a crop of myth and mystery,
Where legends reap the cynical flattery,
That maintains the lie:
Of who we are,
What we've become,
In whose name,
Was violence done;
Of why we're here,
And how we came.
Who's excused,
And who's to blame.
Of where we're going,
And where we're from;
And what we're doing,
To right the wrongs...
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Does it diminish or exalt ya?
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Is it Art or just sheer torture?
Pop, pop, popular culture;
Soporific by it's nature,
From mediocre to bad.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Confers on all a bland inertia,
Embracing every fad:
Of how we look,
The way we feel;
What is image,
And what is real.
Of what to eat,
And what to wear;
How best to cheat,
Or how to care.
The puzzle of love,
The seizures of hate;
How best to survive,
The quirks of cruel fate.
The rule of the stars,
Or the lives of the great;
Hints from the famous,
To grow and create...
Pop, pop, popular culture.
What you love, and what insults ya.
Pop, pop, popular culture.
What you hate, and what co-opts ya.
Oh I'm bored to bits by cant.
And all that ritualised behaviour,
The patriotic fervour,
That is the flavour of the year.
To my cups I'll so decant,
For from high the view is clear:
The world below is idiot,
The age of farce is here!
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Selling slops of dizzy rapture.
Pop, pop, popular culture.
Nurtures minds to easy capture:
What could be wrong,
What could be right,
When a little change,
Inspires a fight,
For what we think,
Or how we live,
Should we repent,
More than we give?
Can our actions
Be so believed,
When some are censured,
And some reprieved..?
Pop, pop, popular history,
Scuttles verity in a lonely estuary,
And sinks the well of common fallacy:
That heroes never die!
Pop, pop, popular history,
Expels reality to forbidden territory,
And absurdly plays tragedy,
As a slick slapstick comedy,
To entertain the lie:
Of who we are,
What we've become,
In whose name,
Was violence done;
Of why we're here,
And how we came.
Who's excused,
And who's to blame.
Of where we're going,
And where we're from;
And what we're doing,
To right the wrongs...
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Pulls out all stops to pimp and pander.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Dead of meaning, truth or candour.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
Where vultures feed on lies and slander.
Pop, pop, popular culture,
The carrion flesh that's propaganda!
poem by Dave SmithWhite

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Make Me Believe
Throw away my dreams
This fight for my life isnt getting behind me
And Ive been told to scream
Where no one can hear me, it doesnt mean nothing
So make me believe
Just take me away from this hell Ive created
And Im afraid
Im breaking my own vows knowing Ill go down in flames
I know this cant be right
Theres got to be something more that I can live for
And I can only hide
Inside of this sickness for so long again
So make me believe
Just take me away from this hell Ive created
And Im afraid
Im breaking my own vows knowing Ill go down
Make me believe
Just take me away from temptation thats calling me
And Im afraid
Im breaking my own vows knowing Ill go down in flames
Running in circles
Confusion is calling my name
Hiding inside of this poisoning madness again
Im tired, Im broken
Im walking along with the dead
Will I ever feel like I once did?
So make me...
Make me believe
Just take me away from this hell Ive created
And Im afraid
Im breaking my own vows knowing Ill go down
Make me believe
Make me believe
Make me believe
Im breaking my own vows, knowing Ill go down in flames
song performed by by Godsmack

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is Culture
What is Culture?
What we think of in Rumbek
What we think of in Jerusalem
What we think of in Moscow
All different things we think, say,
Do and make at different places at the same time
What differentiate a man from insects, birds and beasts?
If you don’t have a culture
You’re a housefly
If you don’t keep your culture
You’re a beetle or cockroach
If you adopt a culture
You’re a tick
If you hate other’s culture
You’re a toad
If you don’t hate or love other’s culture
You’re real man
poem by David Aoloch Bion

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Cool Culture, The
I ask,
What culture do we have?
Cool is not a culture
We have become accustom to non-sense
Violence, Hopelessness, Horrors
And it all breeds disillusionment
Fantasies swell
You not a man,
You not a part of the human continuum
You something else, something less,
Less in-tune with reality
The people talk about real everyday
What’s real, what’s more real?
Who’s the realest?
Because the people aren’t real
Their values aren’t real
Their priorities aren’t real
Their real culture is
Deception, Destruction
Self-destruction and it’s all self-inflicted
We’re trained to hate ourselves
And taught to love our enemies
In fear is how we receive each other
Danger is how we perceive the world
Where everything is uncertainty
Unstable, No Security, No Protection
Other than what destroys first ourselves
And then our communities
And no one has immunity
No foundation
Under educated, Misinformed
Ignorance by design
Dying without a cause
Living with no purpose
Wandering souls
Curious conditions
Where every dream is fleeting
The young don’t acknowledge the old
The old don’t acknowledge the young
The young are the old and no one knows it
The young show no respect
The old don’t pass down knowledge
They allow generation after generation
After generation to fail
Until failure is in our genetic code
And failure is the code we live by
Our culture isn’t success
It’s not love, it’s not understanding
It’s not progress
It’s regression, regrets,
The false hope of promise
And the pain of un-fulfillment
It’s power,
The exploitations of the weak
Preying on the weaker
It’s paper
Both the chase and the waste
It’s plastic
A mold, a façade we all fake
It’s majority rule
With only the minority thinking
Minds aligned with the elite
Who want our rapid decline
Clearly visible to those awake
But our culture keeps us unconscious
And at too many wakes
Kept from the desire for justice
Our culture dismisses
It can’t swallow the truth
In a belly of lies
Because our culture is miserable
It’s cynical, it’s loyalty to death
Mentally castrating
Bastard making
Family devastating
With no accountability
No plan, no purpose on the planet
Our culture, this cult
Comes from nothing
It is nothing
Those who follow are nothing,
Yet we follow it blindly,
We follow it in full
Down a fool’s path
Towards a path of oblivion
Where the wrath of a million,
Sons and Daughters
Fathers and Mothers
Explode to reach something colder
But cool is not a culture
So what culture do we have?
poem by Darrin McMiller Jr.

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For Britain Only
We blasted Glasgow
Invaded France
Assaulted Sweden
Took down our pants
And lovely England
My little kitten
Deliriously
Black widow Bitten
For Britain only
Only for Britain, yeah
For Britain only
Only for Britain
Jumped on the concord
Ain't much for sittin'
I told my boys, now
No public spiting
No bar room fighting
No bad head splitting
Behave yourself 'cause we're, we're back in Britain
For Britain only
Only for Britain
Cost six years of time and space
It took so long to change his face
To redesign his streamline face
Now strong and sleek but still no taste
Guilty
I'm guilty
Won't go to Hungary
Iran is out
Welcome to Moscow, huh
I have my doubts
Can't get near Libya
That boy's insane
Let's head for London
Where we can scream again
For Britain only
Only for Britain, yeah
For Britain only
Only for Britain
For Britain only
song performed by by Alice Cooper

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pieces Now Connecting
So happy am I now to live,
To have a mind free.
And the pieces now connecting,
Did not come to fit...
To snuggle,
Perfectly for me to see.
Or feel deep.
Oh so happy am I to have a mind,
Peacefully freed.
And it didn't come to happen,
Easily accepted...
As I thought a peace of mind,
For me...
Would come to be.
I thought all troubles came to be expected.
And easily for me to accept.
I even thought my head was only made to ache.
And easily I accepted.
I thought my life was meant to fear,
And easily I accepted.
With a living in pain to gain...
To easily accept,
And...
To keep it near.
Oh so happy am I to have a mind,
Peacefully freed.
And it didn't come to happen,
Easily accepted...
As I thought a peace of mind,
Would come to be.
For me.
Yes so happy am I now to live,
To have a mind free.
And the pieces now connecting,
Did not come to fit...
To snuggle,
Perfectly for me to see.
Or feel deep.
But now...
Perfectly for me to see.
And I feel deep,
Is a peace...
Within me as it's meant,
To be.
Oh so happy am I now to live,
What fits for me.
With pieces now connecting,
A peace that fits,
Perfectly intended as was meant,
To be.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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He And She
he was empty and she came into his life
he had nothing in mind
he practically had nothing to think for his future
he is empty and she comes like warm air to his balloon
and she lifts him up
somewhere up in the skies
and they are together
and then on top of the world
the exhaustion comes
there is no more fire
there is no more warm air and he is still empty and she is consumed
he must fall with her
to the ground and they must start to live again
like real things
like real people
he must fill his emptiness with what he wants to
she may look for warm air
and some other modes of unnoticeable deceptions
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Today, I want to be cynical!
Today, I want to be cynical
I won’t listen those long lyrical
I don’t care people’s opinion
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sour vinegar
On the tip of your tongue
I’ll quench my cold blood
I’ll shut my crying heart
Today, I want to be cynical
I deny false sympathy
I believe world’s hypocrisy
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll burn your comical face
With acid glance’s attack
I’ll breed my poisonous words
I’ll carve my sadistic smile
Today, I want to be cynical
I shame self pity
I laugh at naivety
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sound of thunder
Shake often your bright day
I’ll know your hidden mistake
I’ll close your chance to break
Today, I want to be cynical!
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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My Life
My life...
Is not one of strife,
But magic.
Within this mental illusion shared.
Detailed with meaning,
Everywhere.
And everywhere,
It is there!
Breeding in a sea,
That's of a vast cosmicness.
A precious gem.
Within a precious gem.
That's within and without...
Description.
This depiction,
Is nonfiction!
My life...
Has to be right,
For this time.
Or why would I find it,
Mysterious?
And dramatic.
With twists and turns,
Numerically graphic.
Perfectly mathematic.
Emphatically glad I am!
And ever so ecstatic.
Yes!
Created by creations created!
Doing this at its best.
To nest within the mind,
Of a divine ego.
On a mission uncontested.
You may call this experience,
Whatever you wish!
But this life that exist,
Is mine!
My life...
I find,
In this time given.
Will be lived.
As it is.
Until it isn't delicious...
In this wondrous animation,
That picks every bit of this that fits.
Sitting from realms no one can touch!
To marvel at all of it!
And you!
And YOU.
And...YOU too,
Are observed and being viewed.
Like sketches on a canvas etched.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Alpha and the Omega
lost of many words where
to say but it is
confined in my most
conventional
way of saying that
the world we live in
is a place, suited for
human being to
procreate our species
when the ultimate
source of life takes the most
, benevolent decision,
to create, it is a
purposely plan that
the place be in the
beneath with so many
beautiful stars in the
universe
it's an aura of creation,
that shadow the essence
of God's ultimate work
a perfect harmony of all
created above and under
heaven, a state of alpha's
illumination of energy
all is created, with purpose
a lines that every one's
heart will amen, that for every breath
of life is free, a gift to remember
the meaning of creation and
a God who is the omega of
all
poem by Antonio Liao

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