I've been out on the periphery.
quote by Thomas Dolby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return running back
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Destiny” in the most enchantingly celestial of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this boundless Universe; only to the periphery of the rustically bohemian palms,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Smile” in the most spell bindingly opulent of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this fathomless Universe; only to the peripher of the altruistically compassionate lips,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Empathy” in the most beautifully unassailable of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this limitless Universe; only to the periphery of the synergistically twinkling eye,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Hunger” in the most magically untainted of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this colossal Universe; only to the periphery of the tirelessly impoverished stomach,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Truth” in the most jubilantly mesmerizing of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this gigantic Universe; only to the periphery of the synergistically burgeoning conscience,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Fantasy” in the most victoriously unfettered of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this interminable Universe; only to the periphery of the uninhibitedly gifted brain,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Humanity” in the most astoundingly sparkling of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this unceasing Universe; only to the periphery of the symbiotically enchanting veins,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Strength” in the most fantastically emollient of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this endless Universe; only to the periphery of the blessedly venerated soul,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Perseverance” in the most fabulously scintillating of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this insuperable Universe; only to the periphery of the righteously perspiring armpits,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Adventure” in the most enthrallingly undying of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this poignant Universe; only to the periphery of the nimbly dancing feet,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Optimism” in the most indisputably pristine paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this Herculean Universe; only to the periphery of the fearlessly advancing stride,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Ecstasy” in the most gloriously bewitching of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this unlimited Universe; only to the periphery of the intricately nubile skin,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Melody” in the most amazingly glistening of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this unsurpassable Universe; only to the periphery of the wonderfully vivacious throat,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Artistry” in the most resplendently enigmatic of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this unbridled Universe; only to the periphery of the magnetically embellished fingers,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Sensitivity” in the most adorably effervescent of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this ebullient Universe; only to the periphery of the bounteously unimpeachable ears,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Mystery” in the most vibrantly virile of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this unbelievable Universe; only to the periphery of the tranquilly ameliorating shadow,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Sensuality” in the most iridescently redolent of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this interminable Universe; only to the periphery of the eternally fiery nostrils,
Try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Humility” in the most ubiquitously proliferating of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this impregnable Universe; only to the periphery of the harmoniously obeisant neck,
And try as hard as you could. But even if you placed “Love” in the most incredulously bedazzling of paradise; it would inevitably and still return running back; from wherever on this magical Universe; only to the periphery of the immortally throbbing heart….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Periphery Vision
Just out of reach,
On the periphery,
I see from the corner,
The corner of my eye,
Just out of view,
A flash of black,
A wisp smoke.
Or the touch barely felt
Of cold fingers lightly landing
To freeze my shoulder,
Yet when I look not there.
A whisper barely heard
Calls my name gently.
Is this stalker death
Keeping his prey in sight?
Invisible but ever present.
Ready to present an invitation.
An invitation to the dance,
The dance of death.
We know those steps,
Though intricate,
Know without rehearsal.
Born with the knowledge,
To have to acknowledge,
Our mortality.
And waiting,
Just on the periphery,
Death.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good leaders make people feel that they're at the very heart of things, not at the periphery.
quote by Warren G. Bennis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Periphery of Sensitivity
Stay quiet, do not complain.
What are you talking about?
You must know the periphery of sensitivity
Stay within.
Your five year daughter might have been raped.
So what?
Look at your character, madam.
Keep running from pillar to post.
Who cares, if you cry behind doors?
Life moves on...
A child was made to drink her urine.
Stay quiet, do not complain.
It happens sometimes...
It is normal.
The warden did her job.
She would not wet her bed again.
Do not get scared
If you find the sweeper
With knife in hand at operation theater;
It is a helping hand.
Aren't you too sensitive about life?
What would you do in absence of trained men?
So stay quiet, don't complain.
Do not try to raise your voice
Even if it hurts...
Price rise is normal during inflation.
You spend much more on ice-cream
It's just few rupees...
So stay quiet, do not complain.
See, how we are becoming thick skinned.
The spine will soon become non-existent.
It is evolution of Indian in independent India.
We learned to stay indifferent.
There is a periphery of sensitivity,
Stay within.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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I seem to have been everywhere in the last 30 years, maybe not in the epicenter but flying around the periphery of extraordinary events and equally extraordinary people.
quote by Rupert Everett
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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While other industries have suffered, the nonprofit arts world continues to build in strength while it encourages the growth of innumerable small businesses on its periphery, thereby creating more jobs.
quote by Louise Slaughter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good leaders make people feel that they're at the very heart of things, not at the periphery. Everyone feels that he or she makes a difference to the success of the organization. When that happens people feel centered and that gives their work meaning.
quote by Warren G. Bennis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Conclusion
I guess this is it
It’s time to depart, time to rest
For this is an unending quest
I have nothing more to express
I have thrilled myself to the max
Gained more and that’s the ace I got
Acceptance for periphery
Truly, this will set me free
To forget this, for sure I cannot
But I really have to change my path
Track another way to glimpse my luck
So this is the time to turn my back
poem by Rose de Ramar
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Storm
a whole upper row classes
move their furniture - the roar
rumbles through the eardrum
someone slices a bulbous pillow
and rips the darkness with her dexterous fingers
the tear comes away a broken mirror
a cache of memories flash from here
the wind whistles, the trees sigh,
water swirls and sketches the periphery
of the sky like a child - pieces of providence
riding the force of the winds in all directions
first version -
a whole upper row classes
move their old furniture -
the roar rumbles in the eardrum
someone slices a bulbous pillow
and rips the darkness with her fingers
the tear comes away a broken mirror
memories sad and sweet flash from here
the wind whistles, the trees sigh,
water swirls and sketches the periphery
of the sky like a child - pieces of providence
riding the force of the winds in all directions
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Battles Of The Mind
The peeling walls of my mind feel like their
closing in on my sanity
Deep shadows of the farthest corners of
my periphery warning me of pending doom
At once a sense of calm begins to overtake
my being, as if the eternal tranquility of
death was already embracing me
Then, marching to the failing beat of my
heart, faint footsteps came to a halt
The war was over, the battle lost, and I
surrendering my soul to the demons
inside of me
poem by John Leroy Maxwell
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Where He Was
Meditation was futile.
He turned his back
from the green prayers.
The state had made a mockery of his love.
The words were not clear
written on the periphery of pain.
He fathered
dust to dust, his light
folded his trembling hands,
lying on jaundiced bed.
Syntax was rising.
He stood alone amidst landmines
malice for none, beast and history.
The stones were falling from sky.
The punished was partaking the blows,
where he was
others were absent.
poem by Satish Verma
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Valentine
Your body in mud pack
in line of fire
suddenly finds a lover.
I was watching with concern.
Cup of soul, lined with abrasive desires
was empty. Do not go raging in the
sea, to collect the salt.
The pink eye tells the boom.
We may meet again, may not.
I was leaving behind
a trail of exiled skulls on sand.
The ghosts had left the home waking up
On periphery of trembling moon.
The door did not open for apocalypse.
I fell over long stemmed roses
since life was very desperate!
poem by Satish Verma
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Inverted
A tribal instinct stops the nemesis:
Spraying the blood-soaked, small
foot prints on my chest;
unlocking, I accept
myself.
Why contained anger
of awesome ache over the periphery?
Through the atrophied, black limbs -
an elite infusion of trespassing knowledge?
The green adolescence was waiting in chains.
The hoarseness as from a cyanosed throat
after the sips of hemlock, the brave ascending
of a gaint stroke on the cheeks of death;
the dust will sing a farewell
to a river of tears!
End was not me on the chainsaw
a chamomile will wipe the blemishes of the Grail.
poem by Satish Verma
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Outsider
I am the one outside the group
outside the circle
the one who fell through
the holes in the net
The stranger
the outsider
I came close
and you said come closer;
and I made every effort -
eager, naïve and persistent -
but you had sophistication;
you always have sophistication;
and you played with me;
you needed bodies and responses
to fill in forms and information
and your Bureau of Statistics
and I was there - guided, directed
and you knew
all the while,
I was the stranger, the outsider
And you whispered to one another
while your smooth talk was practiced and distinct
I was the stranger, am the outsider
which you knew all the while
which I only saw late in the hour
and so I live now at the borders, at the periphery
and now when we walk past each other
we gaze at each other with caution
with careful disregard
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sky Weeps
My fear becomes the courage
to pursue the truth,
the basic abandonement.
I must go after the dark
stepping on hot leads of pain.
Truth does not stalk,
it burns the fingers on your face
for a self-portrait.
Evidence of borders gives
the catastrophic miss
let us abolish the centre.
No body will now
measure the distance.
We will move at periphery
on a trajectory of truth
within the eternity
of larger boundary.
Why you live in future,
opposing today,
to put away the past?
That was my eternal question.
You felled a tree with a terrible bang.
My heart aches.
Water moves in sudden spurts
of nightmare. Sky weeps.
poem by Satish Verma
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Twilight
On periphery of gestures and casts
I speak for fading integrity while a fossil
of a scream was stolen from the womb
of language.
On becoming silent, an untitled truth
shakes sensibility. Small vignettes track
the battleships of calligraphy. The sermons
wage a war.
The saints praised the puffed up sheep,
suffered the asylum of Atlantic for astral
hopes to cross the folds of virginity. Splashed
motherhood refused the onslaught of tears.
You make inadequate love, exiled in
intimacy. Blood-drowned statements
will not make to the surface of time. Century
moves not for you, not for me, not for him.
poem by Satish Verma
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Neighbours Watch
Riding the back of a sensual saint
a white tiger
was turning the human genome
into ashes.
The moon was climbing up.
Snips were becoming tainted.
Decoding the helix has brought down the god
into a module.
I am encircling the basic truth.
Sky is turning dark.
Saffron bull has broken the golden gate.
Blood is spilled on the sidewalk
lined with marigolds.
I am standing alone on a pathless beach.
Sea has sent back the harvest of grief.
From the periphery agitation starts.
Center has no choice. Absolutely
self-ending-in-self. Each breath comes discreetly
deep in the ravines of soul.
Neighbours were watching.
poem by Satish Verma
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Who Told The Development Worker
That the ghettos
Have scaled eyes
To see the mammoth gap
Between the engaged and disengaged?
What a myth, yet same eyes!
That the North’s
6th Century old citadels
Are rebuilt annually
For having employed
The rife “low cost” materials
What a lie, yet we realise!
That the uplift
Needed by Africa now
Should be in hundreds
But the North’s was in billions?
What a difference, yet same dollar!
That the North’s periphery
Lifted-off without gasoline?
The heartthrob of development
What a slow mind
Oh! African development worker!
Dedication: To all humanity who strive
to see Africa awakened from her
deep slumber of economic backwardness.
Tuesday,29th January 1991.
Chapananga, Chikwawa, Malawi.
poem by Isaac Maliya
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Touch my heart.
In this time of the night,
Friends are few and time is slow,
Leaning against the walls is your man,
Appearing lonely and in solitude,
Relegated to the periphery of oneness,
Come and set me free, touch my heart
It is these nights that i need you more,
When the wind blows coldly,
The blankets never warm anyway,
The room so empty and desolate,
The silence of love so so loud,
I need you close, touch my heart
Should i then be calm my love,
My complains never solved im crying,
Marry me and dedicate thy time,
I need you more than they do,
I touched yours, come touch my heart
Was it a dream my darling,
I was awake i recalled,
Your fingers stretched and so warm,
Touching my heart you did
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Saddest Photographs IV: Hazy Shutter
I can picture you
Sleeping like a pensive flower
Juxtaposed the driver's seat
Caught by the crow feet of my periphery
Your bosom undulating in synergy
Of the thumping of your heart
And my own was compelled
To dance in your euphonious rhythm
Whilst I avert disasters on the road
And the engine silently revved
As we grow closer and closer
To our shabby little apartment:
The canopy of our ambitions
That you have ornamented
With an eternal sunrise scene
And smothering balmy scent
That makes me rise and go to bed
The asphalt bickers with the tire
And friction tinkers with the keys
You are still buoyed in a slumber
My brows reached to align
Stirred by an apprehensive drive
poem by Norman Santos
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