If I speak of Vienna it must be in the past tense, as a man speaks of a woman he has loved and who is dead.
quote by Erich von Stroheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For my Vienna is as different from what they call Vienna now as the quick is different from the dead.
quote by Erich von Stroheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poem in a garbage bin
A man dies, yes he is dying.
He lived like a dead man.
Nobody knew about his whereabouts.
My dear English professor,
extremely sorry for my grammar mistakes,
you explained me about vowels, present tense,
past tense, commas, semicolon and et cetera.,
Why all these unnecessary pinchings sir!
He is already dead.
The man who hasn't a family
who worries about him?
Let him rest peacefully.
All in his lifetime he was dead
and now only he is living after the trauma.
His name is common man.
Dedication to my favourite poet Takuboku Ishikawa
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goodnight Vienna
.....last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah....
-oh gee! Im worn out! can we try another, can you hear what hes saying?
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up come a butcher with her ju jus alight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Felt like a bohunk but I kept up my cool, ah-hah-hah,
Green as a frog, man, I was back into school, ah-hah-hah,
Zipped up my mouth cause I was starting to drool, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
She said she loved me but I knew she was lying, ah-hah-hah,
Felt like an arab who was dancing through zion, ah-hah-hah,
Dont call no doctor when you just feel like crying, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Uhuh-
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, it made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up came a doct.... with his needles in sight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all down to goodnight vienna.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodnight Vienna
.....last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah....
-oh gee! Im worn out! can we try another, can you hear what hes saying?
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up come a butcher with her ju jus alight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Felt like a bohunk but I kept up my cool, ah-hah-hah,
Green as a frog, man, I was back into school, ah-hah-hah,
Zipped up my mouth cause I was starting to drool, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
She said she loved me but I knew she was lying, ah-hah-hah,
Felt like an arab who was dancing through zion, ah-hah-hah,
Dont call no doctor when you just feel like crying, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Uhuh-
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, it made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up came a doct.... with his needles in sight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all down to goodnight vienna.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Way
I lay in silence, dead. A woman came
And laid a rose upon my breast, and said,
'May God be merciful.' She spoke my name,
And added, 'It is strange to think him dead.
'He loved me well enough, but 't was his way
To speak it lightly.' Then, beneath her breath:
'Besides' -I knew what further she would say,
But then a footfall broke my dream of death.
To-day the words are mine. I lay the rose
Upon her breast, and speak her name, and deem
It strange indeed that she is dead. God knows
I had more pleasure in the other dream.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pale Woman
I spoke to the pale and heavy-lidded woman, and said:
O pale and heavy-lidded woman, why is your cheek
Pale as the dead, and what are your eyes afraid lest they speak?
And the woman answered me: I am pale as the dead,
For the dead have loved me, and I dream of the dead.
But I see in the eyes of the living, as a living fire,
The thing that my soul in triumph tells me I have forgot;
And therefore mine eyelids are heavy, and I raise them not,
For always I see in the eyes of men the old desire,
And I fear lest they see that I desire their desire.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Tense
I know not
What is tense
I know
Tense has no tense.
Tense for tense
With no time
With no form
I am above tense.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She can’t escape the boss’ love.
She loves a man under whom she works.
He is potent, kind and lenient.
Her husband will be tense to hear it.
Ergo, no woman speaks of him to her spouse;
18.01.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loved. You can't use it in the past tense. Death does not stop that love at all.
To Know The Word of the Spirit Original 01 16 2011
TO KNOW THE WORD
OF THE SPIRIT:
Original 01 16 2011
To know the word as motive
Know that God speaks the nous
Between his will and knowledge
Prerogatives of vision and reason
To know the word as verbal
Know that God speaks transcendent
Nous -to know the word as noun
Know God speaks the tone of you
To know the word as poem read
To know the word as pronoun
Know that god does not speak
Of you god speaks to you
To know the word as adverb
Know that God does not speak
About you God speaks through you
To know the word as adjective
Know that God speaks by you
To know the word as preposition
Know God speaks from the heart
To know the word as poem write
To know the word is off the table
Know that God knows who sops
And all that was [was] forgiven
To know word as free verse
To know the word as parable
Know that God speaks nous
To know that God has spoken
Know pain and pleasure in spirit.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permissions.
poem by Lee B. Mack
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Will I Go To Bed With You
Will I?
I dunno, I might like you enough
in Chicago
enough to go to bed with you
yes, maybe Chicago in the fall
but come to think of it, sorry, no
not even in Chicago, not even in the fall
But perhaps, maybe in Vienna
yes, i'm certain of it now
Definitely in Vienna
yes, in Vienna in the spring,
I would go to bed with you
But Then
it isn't spring, we aren't in Vienna
so No
poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Thrombocytopenia
But you promised, but you promise.
And you died without even saying goodbye.
Anger, confusion, sorrow.
Feeling it through my heart as it becomes hollow.
Thrombocytopenia
Why did it have to be this way?
Questioning the very existence of the day.
As if it could be changed.
As time could be stopped, or rewound.
Please somebody hit pause then play.
Then just maybe it would be okay.
Thrombocytopenia
Sometimes the simplest of words will do.
I loved you.
I loved you.
To the point of insanity then there was only more.
I speak in past tense to help me move past the thoughts of it.
The grieving process.
A process that one time is more then a enough.
A ghost that has become this numbness.
A skeleton that haunts you in the back of your mind.
Flash backs from time to time.
Thrombocytopenia
Trying to grab on to stars before they fade.
With so much at stake.
Why does their have to be so many aches and pains.
When does the bleeding stop?
Thrombocytopenia.
A wound that just won't heal.
And I can feel.
My insides pouring out through this wound that just won't heal.
This wound that just won't heal.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Of A Thousand Faces
I'm the man of a thousand faces
A little piece of me in every part I take
I hold the tape for a thousand races
A different point of view in every speech I make
Cut me a piece of my divided soul
Cry me a river, call it rock and roll
Speak to a leader with the voice of command
And when I talk to God I know hell understand
I speak to machines with the voice of humanity
I'll Speak to the wise with the voice of insanity
Im the man of a thousand faces
A little piece of me in every part I take
I hold the tape for a thousand races
A different point of view in every speech I make
Cut me a piece of my divided soul
Cry me a river, call it rock and roll
Give me an attitude and watch me make it lie
Pass me a microphone
I need to testify
Well I speak to machines with the voice of humanity
Speak to the wise with the voice of insanity
Speak to the present in the past and future tense
Speak to a slave with the voice of obedience
Im the man of a thousand ages
You see my face in the stones of the Parthenon
You hear my song in the babble of Babylon
Im the man of a thousand riches
Be my guest at the feast of Satyricon
You spend the money that my logos printed on
Well I'll speak to machines with the voice of humanity
Speak to the wise with the voice of insanity
Speak to the present in the past and future tense
Speak to a slave with the voice of obedience
I stole a fire but it burned up much too soon
I took a leap and I landed on the moon
Look at my life and it looks like CNN
You see something once yknow its gonna come around again
Well Ill speak to machines with the voice of humanity
Speak to the wise with the voice of in
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You'll Know You Were Loved
Some things come to he who waits
but all is lost if you hesitate
And I was never one to wait
you'll know you were loved
You can hire great lawyers, you can speak to your friends
you can say he did this and that some things don't change
Unwrap the present and burn the remains
but you'll know you were loved
Now you take Roscoe, he ain't much
people say things are ruined after his touch
It's like a tar was dripping from his brush
but you'll know you were loved
Or Stan or Jake emerging from your past
from those love affairs that didn't last
But me, I'll give it my last gasp
and you'll know you were loved
A parrot, a donkey, a dog, a bone
some of us never had a home
And if we did we left it long ago
and didn't know we were loved
Empty as a wooden clock
left in the woods at twelve o'clock
Insides all rusted and spring is popped
but you'll know you were loved
Even when you sleep at night
inside your heart will cry
You can never say goodbye
when you know you were loved
Under-achievers of the world unite
You have nothing to lose except your fright
And together we can perhaps past the night
when you know you were loved
And together we can perhaps past the night
when you know you were loved
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Loves
The woman he loved, while he dreamed of her,
Danced on till the stars grew dim,
But alone with her heart, from the world apart
Sat the woman who loved him.
The woman he worshipped only smiled
When he poured out his passionate love.
But the other somewhere, kissed her treasure most rare,
A book he had touched with his glove.
The woman he loved betrayed his trust,
And he wore the scars for life;
And he cared not, nor knew, that the other was true;
But no man called her his wife.
The woman he loved trod festal halls,
While they sang his funeral hymn,
But the sad bells tolled, ere the year was old,
For the woman that loved him.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Evening Walk
I go into the evening,
The wind jogs along and sings:
You are bewitched by every light,
O feel, what struggles with you!
A dead woman's voice that I loved
Speaks: poor is the fools' heart!
Forget, forget what clouds the soul!
The becoming shall be your pain!
poem by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Speak Often
we speak often...
of revolution, yet
we almost never speak,
of the old woman left alone,
her husband dead two years...
who sits in the dark,
and sometimes eats,
and cant see to clean her house.
we speak of peace,
and send troops to liberate,
teaching seperation in our churches.
we speak of hope,
yet horde all we can,
and keep our revolvers loaded.
we speak of justice
in terms of 'i' and 'they'....
and applaud wordplay in our courtrooms...
we speak of equality,
then call each race by name,
and demand that they speak english.
we speak of god as holier than thou...
never understanding dialogue and dissolution....
we speak a lot, yet cannot listen...
what fools we are!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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311
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
he is sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Cat And The Dog In The House Of Their Master
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speaks!
clouds speak...
with ancient cathedral voices,
but only to those who listen!
babies speak...
with first cry at light,
only mothers' ears hear!
bombs speak...
but never of freedom,
oppression's lies, loud and brash!
hunger speaks...
distinct human faces,
lost to the indifferent roar!
lonliness speaks...
lost in self losing color,
black and white emptiness!
God speaks...
but no one listens;
lost in those clouds,
slowly drifting away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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