I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Change
The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.
I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?
with no response to my question there was a pause...
but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...
for a change.
poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conversation with God
One day while I was dreaming I heard a soft like voice
It called me to a pond
and asked to recite
the stories of my childhood
I thought it very strange
Then with deafening noise it came
It took me to the pond and asked me 'what I could see'
'I see me' I replied
'Very good' it said
'Now do you see' it asked
'I see a little child with hair as bright as fire'
'Who is that child' it asked
'It is me' I replied again
'Do you remember what that child was like'
'No' I replied
'Until you become a child again you'll see no more'
'I do not understand' I said
'You will' came the voice
'When' I asked
'When you believe that I am real'
'But you are real' I answered
'Only one who truly believes can understand'
poem by Rachel Branscombe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One for Ramana
The thunder asked
what is lightning?
The root asked
why is a flower?
The pupil asked
who is the teacher?
The space asked
where is everyone?
The circle asked
when is the end?
The stillness asked
whence word?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace Dies From Bullet Wounds
The warrior killed;
pulled the trigger
dropped the bomb
and when asked why
he said
'it's my job.'
The militant fighter
planted the bomb
and when asked why
she said
'it is my beliefs
my values
I am committed
and therefore
am doomed to kill
and die.
The politician
sought the war
and when asked why
he said
to protect my people
I must kill,
and order men and women
take up arms and die.
The son
leaving for war
was asked
if he would kill
and why
he said
Yes, I would,
its expected
and I do it to protect
my home,
my wife
my kids.
We all would be better
off
if we didn't
kill
for
peace.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Experience Is God
I asked, ‘What comes with birth? '
Born and see, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is said to be education? '
Study and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is knowledge? '
Know and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is kindness? '
Be kind and shower, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is love? '
Share with others, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What pleasure do you get from wife? '
Marry and experience, God ordered!
I asked, ‘Who is child to you? '
Get a child for you, God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is old age? '
Become old and observe God ordered!
I asked, ‘What is poverty? '
Toil and see God ordered!
I asked, ‘What happens after death? '
Die and see God ordered!
If anyone wants to know what is life,
And he has to experience and know,
Then why are you, GOD?
GOD said, ‘O' poor man,
The experience itself is ME!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Told Myself
I told myself
You do love me
Is it really true?
She asked me
I told myself
You care for me
Are you really sure?
She asked me
I told myself
You do miss me
As often as you?
She asked me
I told myself
You need me too
Are you guessing?
She asked me
I told myself
You never tell me
Why on Earth?
She asked me
I told myself
You hide a lot…
Is that friendship?
She asked me
I told myself
You think too much
Does he not feel?
She asked me
Tell me, my love
What shall I say?
To all those queries
That she asked me...
How should I answer?
What should I ponder?
Tell me the truth
For she still asks me...
You For Me
And Me For You
Is it the Future?
One last Question
She did ask me.
I don’t have the answers
Yet she keeps asking me…
May be, she knows,
One day, one moment
You’ll let her know
How you feel for me...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Never Asked
We never asked you to take our land
but still you took it from us
with your lies you wanted us to trust
still we offered you our hand
so we could all live free
We never asked you to stay
but you stayed anyway
now our life is nothing like before
and we never asked for your war
instead we offered you a friend
you gave us a enemy
We never asked for you to kill off our buffalo
there was more than enough to share
but your greed you could not control
now our children go hungry
with your disease
(Spiritwind-2010)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This And That
I ASKED FOR BREAD!
A STONE THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR WATER!
A CUP OF VENOM THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR MEAT!
LO! VEGETABLES THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR CLOTHES!
AND THEY GAVE ME RAGS!
I ASKED FOR WEALTH!
AND THEY GAVE ME POVERTY!
I ASKED FOR PEACE!
AND THEY GAVE ME TROUBLES!
I ASKED FOR LOVE!
AND THEY GAVE ME WICKEDNESS!
TEMPT NOT THIS LORD!
ASK ME NOT FOR HELP!
FOR I SHALL GIVE TO YOU AS YOU GAVE TO ME!
TEMPT ME NOT I SAY!
ASK ME NOT FOR THIS!
FOR I SHALL GIVE YOU THAT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Perpetual Stream Of Sacred Consciousness
I asked the mountain
You are very strong
you will exist till the end of creation
The mountain replied numbly
No, Nay, not so
the water can flow me and
convert me to a plain land
then my existence will vanish
I asked the rock
no one can melt you
the rock also replied numbly
No, Nay not so
the water can melt me
and I will be no more
I asked the trees
the water will destroy you
the tree replied
No, Nay not so
it shall irrigate me and
give me life
I asked each and every creatures
all replied
water is more soft, more rich
and more strong
it can destroy and give life too
it can quench thirst of all
and give life to all
I asked the Water
You are soft and mild
You are rich and strong too
The water replied
No, Nay not so
I may be dried at any time
It is poetry,
a perpetual stream of sacred consciousness
flowing ever and ever
beyond the stars and planets and
even beyond plenty of universe
The Poetry can save me and
pray to God for my survival.
poem by Ramesh Rai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cattle Food
AN ELDERLY NATIVE WENT VISITING AT A CITY, AND ON HIS ARRIVAL, HIS HOST QUICKLY TOOK HIM TO AN EXPENSIVE RESTAURANT FOR A WELCOME MEAL!
WHAT WILL BE YOUR ORDER TODAY SIR? A WAITRESS ASKED THE CITIZEN AND HE REPLIED, MY USUAL WOULD BE IN ORDER! AND THE WAITRESS TURNED TO THE ELDERLY NATIVE AND SAID, SIR! WHAT WOULD BE YOUR ORDER? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, MY USUAL WOULD BE IN ORDER!
THE WAITRESS ASSUMING THAT THEY BOTH WANTED THE CITIZEN'S USUAL PLATE OF VEGETABLE SALAD, WALKED OFF TO GET THE FOOD.
ON HER RETURN WITH THE FOOD, THE CITIZEN IMMEDIATTELY BEGAN TO EAT HIS FOOD, WHILE THE ELDERLY NATIVE SAT FROWNING AT THE PLATE OF SALAD PLACED BEFORE HIM, AFTER A WHILE, HE ASKED HIS HOST, DEAR FRIEND, WAS YOURS WELL COOKED? MINE LOOKS AS IF IT WASN'T EVEN COOKED AT ALL!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Pussy cat
Pussy pussy cat pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to London
To look at the queen
Again I asked Pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to Odisha
To look at English
Rule of Nabin.
Pussy cat pussy cat
Further I asked where
Have you been and
Pussy cat replied
He had been to see
Odia people who are fool
And how odia people
Still remain cool
Pussy pussy cat
I asked where have
You been and pussy cat
Replied he had been
To India to see
The democratic rule.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flick-Knife Incident
After the argument
'Helen said'. 'Granny said'.
'Paul said'. 'Granny said'.
'Larry asked'.
Granny,
Who is Mrs Devereux,
Pulled out a flick-knife.
'! ', 'Helen said'.
'Helen asked'. Granny (lengthily replied) .
'Helen asked'. Granny (abruptly replied) .
'Helen asked'. 'Her grandmother said'.
'Larry said'. 'Paul said'.
'Larry asked', 'Does Declan know? '
'Granny said'.
'Larry said', 'I must go and tell.'
Lily 'addressed Paul'.
'Larry said'. 'Mrs Devereux said'. 'Paul said'.
'Lily said', 'Declan's getting sick...'
'Paul asked'. 'Helen said'. 'Paul said'.
Enough said.
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Asked God
“When I Asked God for Strength
He Gave Me Difficult Situations to Face
When I Asked God for Brain & Brown
He Gave Me Puzzles in Life to Solve
When I Asked God for Happiness
He Showed Me Some Unhappy People
When I Asked God for Wealth
He Showed Me How to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Favors
He Showed Me Opportunities to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Peace
He Showed Me How to Help Others
God Gave Me Nothing I Wanted
He Gave Me Everything I Needed.”
poem by Shivani Nalkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He asked me if I'd take a penny for my thoughts.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and I told him the things on my mind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I had thought then I'd be paid in kind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and the closest friends we came to be.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought then the one he cared for, was me.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now rich with my thoughts he was.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought his reason was more than 'just because'.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
he's made me rich with a broken heart.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now my life has a broken start.
Shall We Dance
Shall we dance?
He tentatively asked
Love at first glance…
Shall we dance?
I would love to
She was waiting to be asked…
Shall we dance?
If that’s what you want…
Forget I asked…
Shall we dance?
Please give me space,
Contempt on face.
Shall we dance?
Go to our favourite haunt,
What do you want?
Shall we dance?
To rekindle romance,
She looks askance…
Shall we dance?
He gathered her in his arms
To recapture what once was…
Shall we dance?
He tentatively asked,
Stirring the dying embers in the fireplace…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Corporate
They asked me
And I showed them the facts.
They asked me again
And I said what I thought.
They asked me again
And I didn't agree.
Now they don't ask me.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose-bud advises man…
I asked a rose-bud, ‘who gave you your beauty? ’
And it replied, ‘my mother’s sap gave me! ’
I asked again, ‘who gave your mother plant, its sap? ’
It said, ‘the soil and rain by roots, the sun through leaves! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘who gave the soil, sun and rain such abilities? ’
It replied, ‘the One who made all things, and you and me! ’
And now the rose-bud asked me, ‘But why do you ask such questions?
Are you not made beautiful too by the same One,
Who made me, the moon, sky, soil and sun?
And yet, like you, we cannot walk or run! ’
It continued, ‘we plants feel sad we cannot move like how you do! ’
‘We buds grow bigger by each dawn;
The Maker feels so happy when we’re born,
And smiles on seeing us each morn,
Turning ecstatic, when we blossom on,
The landscape to perfume and to adorn –
By morrow, most of us are almost gone! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘are the dew-drops then because you cry? ’
And it replied, ‘they are the tears of joy and sadness of God on high,
Who knows we are born to sooner die.’
But tell me man, such questions, you ask, ‘why? ’
The rose-bud went on:
‘God gave you man, woman, a long life-span;
And do many things, you surely can! ’
God made you far more beautiful!
Be satisfied and be dutiful;
God is our Master One, most wonderful!
Praise Him, thank Him for all His gifts to you, bountiful! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You Happy With It?
Are you happy with it?
I asked the smiling man,
his head nodding, so fast,
I could not catch his
Maddening eyes.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the sitting lady,
as she rocked squeakily,
paper-bagged bottle,
splashing down her drunken legs,
but I could not sharpen her blur.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the limping child,
its lop-sided neck,
angling the world to 45,
yet even there,
she only grinned
by degrees.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the patient,
strapped to a white bed,
pulls, pipes and promises,
dragged out of his soul,
as his stare spoke
a steep silence.
Are you happy with it?
I asked the reflection,
while speeding into a vacuum.
It looked familiar,
almost me,
but afraid to change pace,
he just mouthed NO.
poem by Jerry Pike
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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