There's a lot to be said for not displacing people.
quote by Barney Frank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laziness has become the chief characteristic of journalism, displacing incompetence.
quote by Kingsley Amis
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I say that democracy can never prove itself beyond cavil, until it founds and luxuriantly grows its own forms of art, poems, schools, theology, displacing all that exists, or that has been produced anywhere in the past, under opposite influences.
quote by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Hawk
Everywhere one goes
Eyes are drilling you like a hawk,
Looking for assymetry,
Disfigurements, enlargements,
Entanglements, perfection.
Every one looks
Eyes turn to you, or away.
Neither for a millisecond do they stay.
But the effects are engorging,
Annoying, exciting or displacing.
I once gazed at the corpse of my mother,
Who, peering it seemed high into the steeple,
Saw nothing except hazel.
But then I noticed something about her
I had never seen before:
Painless peace and superhuman
Repose.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Delivered in style
interaction in a virtual setting via
limited memes
limited degrees of deliberate body language
simultaneous différance
independent écriture
human beings are adaptable
directing their concerns at television
an altruistically sophisticated revelation of asymmetry
a failure of their hierarchy
displacing the terms of my opposition
words in the sky, the savage and civilised
the prey of our prayers
a posture of superiority
poem by Tanec Rayl
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Mirror-Image
Exhibit found bliss
voyeur godhead selfhead
in mesmerization mirror
liberation femininity
need nurtured edits
spasmodically
as image insulates
intermittent fevered
tomorrow todays.
Self-poised thin lady
slipping into suit sizes
displacing previous occupiers
former fat spayed cats
as sexual equality
salvation seekers
conceptualize inhere
leaching liberation
displacement syndrome.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Displacement
Just finished rereading “Wee Free Men” introducing
Tiffany, displacing suffocating allergic reaction due to
culinary indulgence by diving into the enchantment of
Terry Pratchett’s wonderful prose
Did not want the book to end, the story should continue
for eternity… sometimes I try to leave the land of dreams,
Tiffany found dreams were used to lead people astray –
then I eat things that make my life miserable
And remember why transcending reality is necessary, I
cannot give up the rearrangements I make since living in
physical discomfort is counterproductive; dreams enable
me to experience marvellous adventures
Which cannot exist in my little world and although I would
like to be practical and impress with my common sense, it
is impossible to stay within the boring inter-subjective con-
sensus we call reality, even when clever people say
It is irresponsible and childish to let the mind stray from the
life at hand - I will not give up this delight to impress anybody,
the joy of creative fantasy outweighs all arguments offered by
people with deep frowns and drooping mouths
As the virtues they try to urge on me left them feeling cheated
and bitterly disappointed, I see no reason to join their misery if
I can do my job adequately with several other worlds spinning
wildly in my mind and heart
“The Wee Free Men” – Terry Pratchett – Doubleday 2003
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Paradigm Change
The old wor[l]d whirlwinds onwards, faster,
Ha[s]tes to re[th]ink its hoary story,
Enters unknown territory.
Paradigm change or disaster,
As Man, no longer his own master,
Regrets both past defeats and glory,
Against a background inventory
Displacing values? Pomp, proved plaster,
Is vulnerable, and no forecaster
Gives good odds for salutory
Mutation alleviatory.
CHange slips on its ball-bearing caster
ANd for Change’s sake anticipation
GEnerates its own acceleration...
19 June 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Why are people always
Why are people always cheating?
Why are people always fighting?
Why are people always dieing?
Why are people always crying?
Why are people always hating?
Why are people always debating?
Why are people always trading?
Why are people always trying to fit in?
Why are people always cursing?
Why are people always bursting?
Why are people always tripping?
Why are people always not trying to be fair?
Why are people always trying to be dumb?
Why are people always playing too much?
Why are people always misbehaving?
Why are people always do drugs?
Why are people always not trying to have a future?
Why do people always try to ruin their life?
Why?
poem by Shaquan Mack
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The People's World
people are good;
people are bad;
people are happy;
people are sad;
people are near;
people are far;
people are true;
people are blue;
people are white;
people are right;
people are silent;
people are violent;
people can throw;
people can grow;
people can share;
people can care;
people can unite;
people can divide;
people can fool;
people can rule;
people can trust;
people are worst;
don't think i became mad.... what ever i wrote is very common things known about people but what i want to show is that i cannot describe everything about the people as it is impossible in the same way it is impossible to understand and make every person happy around us that's it.got it!
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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I Know People
I know people who help you through the night.
And I know people who
fight that very good fight.
And, I know people who're goin for the gold.
And, I know people got them aces so you better fold.
I know people who are quick to light your cigarette.
And, I know people who say 'Buddy, ya ain't seen nothin yet.'
I know people who're workin harder every day.
And I know people who got kids come out to play.
I know people, you know people, said, I'm not so different from you.
Won't you be one of my people who
Who do too.. Won't you be one of my people who.
I know people who
are cruisin up and down the track, and
I know people who
won't be comin back.
I know people ridin too high at the wheel.
And, I know people, there to cut you that dirty deal.
I know people who'll take you into town. And, I know people who
really get around.
And I know people who're buskin up and down the mall.
And, I know people who're gonna take a fall.
I know people, you know people, see, I'm not so different from you?
Won't you be one of my people too. Said, won't you be one of my people who, who do too.
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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Desert sands
Invisible, amidst grains of sand;
blinding heat beads sweat that rivers run
from furrowed brow to hollow hands
that wipe along the sting that lands
on skin stretched beneath blazing sun.
Each and every way the warm wind blows
shards of glass swirl into heaving mounds
that shift and change the way to go.
A moving sea that dips and throws
unsteady feet on to drifting ground.
How is direction to be embraced,
when all that can be seen is endless,
desert marked by displacing face.
Where travelled footprints leave no trace
and all around barren emptiness.
poem by Diana Rosser
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A Asome Poem About PEOPLE
Some people
Care about you, some people
Don’t care,
Make fun of you and walk away,
Some people,
Run past, some people
Hand you presents,
Give you a pat on the back,
Some people
You love, some people
You don’t know
Some people, some people,
You do,
Some people
You notice, some people
Eat cauliflower, some people
Are teenagers,
Some people walk to restaurants,
Sit down at the counter,
Eat there food, through it at
People,
Some people never notice you,
Some people always look, some people
Want to take you away, some people
Will never exist
Some people are other people; some people are you, some people
Die ever second,
Some people are you
poem by Annie Nosich
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Illumination 1889
Before: eyes wore sack cloth of black,
turned back from fair temptations' surge,
recoiled, pain wracked, from fate's attack,
saw splurge urge drowned by starcrossed scourge.
Hope unexpected then saw light,
delight which soared beyond all ken
of mice and men, displacing night
then opened door to joy again.
When transformation was complete,
from chrysalid slipped butterfly
antennae test, taste, haste to greet
bolt which bolts leaden could defy.
One moment lost, the next enthralled,
true metamorphosis 'tis called...
(21 June 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I see something wrong
Some people care about,
you.
Some people don't care
Would people listen to,
our lies?
Why are people abused
I see something wrong
There are pretty people
There ugly people
People play
People talk
I'm tired of people messing,
With me.
I guess people hate the truth
Some people are bad
Some people care
Others don't
Why do people cry?
This is life
I don't understand
Some people like to talk
Some people like to walk
Why people argue over nothing?
People act crazy
Why are people always cheating?
People that are lost
I admire people that have respect,
for others.
We are the people of the earth
What really goin on?
I really don't know
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
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Power To The People
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Say you want a revolution
We better get on right away
Well you get on your feet
And out on the street
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
A million workers working for nothing
You better give em what they really own
We got to put you down
When we come into town
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers
How do you treat you own woman back home
She got to be herself
So she can free herself
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Now, now, now, now
Oh well, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Yeah, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return Journey
I forgot, was it me
in a body pile draped in dust,
still hot, bruised, burnt, a mad megalomaniac
starting a civil war, creating suicide bombers,
young virgins inhaling death?
This journey under the guns, displacing
hapless thousands, will reach destination
on thick, blood stained red, dirt road of life? Step by step
the dynasty breaks and violence, a malignant
spread overtakes the bones
of avatars; the round bloodshot eyes
cross the barriers of silence and step out
from the skin: they were bombing
his bunker.
*On the death of Vellupillai Prabhakaran, LTTE Leader
poem by Satish Verma
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What I Once Believe When I Was Young
idealism was the first thing i believe in
that the good triumphs
that the bad at the end is vanguished and buried
the corrupt is hanged and the people shall clap their hands
while the flag flies
in the free air, while the women dance in our liberties
while the men take pride
in the wars that they have fought and won,
that justice prevails
that the criminal is always caught and put to jail because
crime does not pay,
that the rich may soon become poor because in accordance with the
cycle of fortunes
no one is poor forever
that the only possibility of those who are up is always to go down
then one day i notice some white locks of hair in my head
my lips crack, my cheeks have wrinkles and my forehead has
a number of furroughs
my skin dry, my nose falling on my chin,
the changes, oh, the changes,
in myself have become the
inevitable,
and then, all of the sudden, the idealism is gone,
like how government is toppled by another government
like how a charismatice leader is shot and another
seemingly charismatic leader takes the reigns,
only to find
one robber displacing another robber
and this keeps on happening for years, until one day
i find myself standing in one corridor staring to the space beyond me
to the far mountain to some grey skies
it looks it will rain all day in my life
i look at myself in the mirror
to find this ugliness in myself and in everything else
it is dark, it is what we call a nice evening and then we do nothing
but turn off the light and sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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But Why? ?
people beg on street
people damage public property
people are insecure
people r jealous
people r foolish
people r ill-treated
people quarrel with eachother
people cry
people die
people r tortured
people r murdered
people r tense
people r disloyal
BUT WHY? ?
the reason? ? ? MONEY
money makes things happen
but why........
poem by Sakshi Mathur
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What's wrong with our world?
Why are people abused
Why are people shot
Why do people commit suicide
Why are people anorexic and bulimic
Why do people care more about money than family
Why do people call themselves fat or ugly
Why are kids kidnapped and killed
Why do people die
Why do people tell you they love you and take it back
Why do people hurt each other
Why are people raped
Why do people cut themselves
Why do people hate their lives
Why do teenagers get pregnant
Why do people call each other names
Why are people raciest
Why are people depressed
Why are people put in mental hospitals
Why do peole do drugs
Why do people cuss
Why do people not care what happens to them
Why do people care what others think of them
What's wrong with our world
poem by Allison Boyles
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Places And People....! ! !
Some peopleCare about you
some peopleDon't care,
Make fun of you and walk away,
Some people, Run past,
some people Hand you present
Give you a pat on the back,
Some peopleYou love,
some peopleYou don't know Some people,
You do, Some people You notice,
some people Are teenagers,
Some people never notice you,
Some people always look,
Some people Want to take you away
Some people Will never exist
Some people are other people;
Some people are you,
Some people Die every second,
Some people are you
poem by Anandita Trikha
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