If you're really on top, you probably didn't do that great, 'cause you have to water it down a bit for it to get that mass appeal.
quote by Brad Paisley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lower the standard
Touch up and make up appeal raw eyes.
Exaggeration is made for dull brains.
Simplification is made for low minds.
Mass appeal means the lowered standard.
10.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Weapons of Mass Destruction
The Holy Roman Empire and Alexander The Great
Exterminate the globe, with extreme prejudice,
A Weapon of Mass Destruction
The European Inquisition, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
The Holy Christian Crusades, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
The Manifest Destiny and land expansion, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
Globalization and commercialization of the many rain forests,
A Weapon of Mass Destruction
Comprehensive sanctions is economic violence,
A Weapon of Mass Destruction
The procreation of religion and God, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
Democratizing the whole world, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
The extermination of The Iroquois Confederation, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
World domination the salvation of, A Weapon of Mass Destruction
War, is the greatest Weapon of Mass Destruction
The justification for annihilation of, The Constitution
The constitution of retribution, the absolution of, A Weapon of Mass Destruction.
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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The Sacred Font
Eversince a child
I have been fascinated by
The Sacred Font at the Church door;
Of marble it is, so white and
So cool bearing the blessed
Holy water which we
Use to cross ourselves before
Walking to the pew.
The Font always the first we greet
And the last we would see at mass.
Somehow, always I am struck
By a forlorn feeling as
We dab into it for the water
To cross ourselves to leave.
The little Sacred Font
That bids us welcome and goodbye at mass.
The font that seems to hold
Not only water but the presence of God.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder” (The Billion-Dollar Question)
We must all stay aware…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder….,
It’s been increasing for years….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can’t dare turn our backs….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
It’ll sneak up and kill us…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
It’s hard to believe and conceive….
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
That’s why so many are blind….,
To the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
We’ve seen the bloody attacks…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
So we must face the facts….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Yes they’re after us all…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
Their radical religion condones it….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can we control it or stop it….,
So it won’t go any further….? ? ?
That’s the billion-dollar question….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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The Great Grey Water
Now two have met, now two have met,
Who may not meet again—
Two grains of sand, two blades of grass,
Two threads within the skein—
Beside the Great Grey Water.
Two hands to touch, two hearts to touch;
And, here forgathered, we
Will not forget, may not forget,
Where last forgathered three—
Beyond the Great Grey Water.
Two glasses filled, two pipes to fill—
‘To all our fortunes, brother!’
And as they clink—like so—we drink
Fair passage to the other
Across the Great Grey Water.
For three have sailed, and one has sailed,
His sins, like ours, still on him,
God sleep his soul! five oceans roll
Their long weight all upon him.
O God! thy Great Grey Water!
But I am still, and you are still,
And here our chance has flung us;
True comrades we, but…there were three
And one is not among us
Beside the Great Grey Water.
A breathing space, a biding place,
Soft lights and beakers beaded,
Then out again and on again,
Unminded and unheeded,
Across the Great Grey Water.
Now two have met where three have met
With curses or with laughter;
And so our Day shall pass away,
And so our Night come after—
But, ah! the Great Grey Water
poem by Edwin James Brady
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Drunken Messiah
When Jesus had a hangover
They cancelled Mass that morning;
He'd been out with Magdelan on the booze
Ignoring His Mother's warning.
He said 'I'll do just as I choose
And turn the water into wine
And if you say you don't like it
You'll share the fate of the Gaderene swine! '
But Joseph was a bit annoyed
That Jesus gave His Mother grief -
He said 'You're getting above Yourself,
What's all this fuss about Belief? '
It was then that the Good Lord replied
'I'm sorry I got drunk,
I know I should be crucified
But I'd rather become a Trappist monk! '
Of course, our Saviour didn't know
That crucifixion was His fate,
He didn't know He was our God
Or perhaps He realized too late!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Day
A day might turn up when water will not wet
and fire wil not burn the wind will not dry
and there will be no sky
Earth and the skies land and water
You and me will merge in a moonless and sunless sea
Call it the dark mass known as Great Attractor?
Call it Death?
Who floats there on the primordial waters
resting
on a raft of a white thousand hooded rattle snake?
Dont you hear it when it is dark and no man there?
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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I don't know what sex appeal is. I don't think you can have sex appeal knowingly. The people who seduce me personally are the people who seem not to know they're seductive, and not to know they have sex appeal.
quote by Omar Sharif
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Request To The Dead
I offer this water to you,
my father, grandfather and great grandfather,
and to you, soldiers and generals
who fought for us and who fought against us
and who were killed by this war.
I stand here, on this battlefield,
and give this water and this rice to you—
you must be hungry and thirsty.
Ask for nothing
other than water and rice,
don't add to the long list
of things I was not able to give;
be content with this water and this rice
and return
to wherever you came from.
Consider this: the years
I have spent with you were many;
and this: it will not be long
before I join you wherever you sojourn.
Had I possessed things
other than this water and this rice,
would I have denied them to you
and asked you to return ?
Whatever I have
other than this water and this rice
are surely not appropriate offerings
for departed souls.
True, I traverse everyday of my life
with this baggage of witheld things,
but whenever I look at them
I disintegrate and cry out
with a voice that rends
the heavens
and the underworld.
Tears fill my eyes
when I make this offering
of water and rice.
I know, when my turn comes,
I shall have neither.
Look, the sun has almost set.
Now, go back to wherever you came from
with the little water and the little rice I gave you.
Look, I myself do not have
either any water or any rice.
Look, I have nothing except the few things
I didn't give
and kept with myself.
[Translated by the poet]
poem by Ramakanta Rath
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No Chance
It must be nice to be steady, it must be nice to be firm
It must be nice never to move off the mark
It must be nice to be dependable and never let anyone down
It must be great to be all the things you're not
It must be great to be all the things that I'm not
I see you in the hospital your humor is intact
I'm embarrassed by the strength I seem to lack
If I was in your shoes
so strange that I'm not
I'd fold up in a minute and a half
and I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
It must be nice to be normal it must be nice to be cold
It must be nice not to have to go oh up or down
But me I'm all emotional no matter how I try
you're gone and I'm still here alive
and I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
No - I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
There are things we say we wish we knew and in fact we never do
But I'd wish I'd known that you were going to die
Then I wouldn't feel so stupid, such a fool that I didn't call
And I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
No there's no logic to this - who's picked to stay or go
If you think too hard it only makes you mad
But your optimism made me think you really had it beat
So I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
I didn't get a chance to say goodbye
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A washout
mass weapon
of destructions
one thing evil
Saddam did not
lie about was
his weapon of
mass destructions
hilary, bush
how could
Great America
make such a
blunder? a lie
that blasted
through Iraq land
to hurt the human
psyche the weight of
weapon of mass
destructions
and now to make it
an even bigger
laughing matter
one is seeking to be
president
and the other
telling the next
president to
stick it out
a washout
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Ashes In The Fall
a mass of hands press on the market window
ghosts of progress
dresed in slow death
feeding on hunger
and glaring through the promise
Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle
a mass of nameless at the oasis
that hides the graves beneath the master's hill
are buried for drinking
the river's water
*unfinished*
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Didnt Know
Didn't know what you had
Until you lost it
Didn't know what you own
Until you got it
Didn't know of your sins
Until you fought it.
Didn't know what you needed
Until you sought it.
Didn't know your lies
Until someone spoke them
Didn't know of the truth
Until someone wrote them
Didn't remembered your dreams
Until someone awoke them
Didn't know they died
Until someone chocked them.
Didn't know you had guilt
Until you cried
Didn't know you felt sadness
Until you tried to hide
Didn't know you felt shame
Until you lied
Didn't know you believed in GOD
Until you asked him why.
Didn't know you felt sorrow
Until you shed a tear
Didn't know that you were scared
Until I saw your fear
Didn't know that you hated
Until you were near
Didn't know that you were unhappy
Until you looked in a mirror.
Didn't know who you truly were
Until your ways you sewed
Didn't know that you were evil
Until the truth was showed
Didn't know you did this before
Until I saw all of your woe
Didn't know who you really were
Though I wished then I did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Sex Appeal
(r palmer)
Of all the girls in all the world
You got my number
Out the blue you created this obsessive desire
You steal my thunder
I cant resist your sex appeal
Youre kisses make me dizzy
The things you do you know they drive me out of my mind
I cant resist your sex appeal
You take it to the limit
Imagination running till
Its out of sight
You haunt my dreams
You make me fantasise
All of your moves, Ive got them memorised
Under your spell youve got me hypnotised
My body aches to make you satisfied
I cant resist your sex appeal
I lose my inhibitions
The way you move you make me feel
Completely wild
I cant resist your sex appeal
I knw you will deliver
You kiss my wildest dreams
Then take me out
When we make make love
Our bodies synchronise
We find the grooves and then we improvise
We lose ourselves within each others eyes
I long for you to share my appetites
I cant resist your sex appeal
Youre kisses make me dizzy
Imagination running till its out of sight
You take me right out of this world
Closer to heaven
How did you know how to capture all my secret desires
Now and forever
I cant believe
The way you tantalise
I love the way you take me by surprise
You turn me on
Its you I idolise
My body years to keep ypu satisfied
I cant resist your sex appeal
I lose my inhibitions
The way you move you make me feel
Completely wild
I cant resist your sex appeal
I know you will deliver
You kiss my wildest dreams then take me out
I cant resist your sex appeal
I cant resist your sex appeal
I cant resist your sex appeal
I cant resist your sex appeal
I cant resist your sex appeal
I cant resist your sex appeal
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But there's always a Mass. It's not a formal Mass at all. We're sitting around her dining room table with wine and Eucharist and holding hands. It's very informal and small, but to me that's a wonderful way to have Mass.
quote by Linda Vester
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Running Water
Playing around like a clown
I didn't see a puddle of water
on the ground
Falling from the dip
I lost my grip
to face down
water dripping
from my head to my draws
It was like
going down Niagra falls
having a view
of all bodys of water
from the creek, lake, river
ocean and sea
I thought I was watching TV
falling from a tree
to what sudden deepth
wait upon me
A great whale waitting
to eat me
to bones
all of my flesh
all I saw
at bottom was rocks and stones
my blood and chest
The bodys of water
was a total mess
Swirving in and out
to the red sea
the Atlantic Ocean was now upon me
I can barely see
Sliding the crust of the narrow Potomac River
I was thirsty
and ready to drink
only to see trash
passing by
I must think
pushing the water fountain
cloud of dirt
beside Oxon Hill Creek
is there any real water
to drink
I was just running water
in my cell
hurt
hoping for the best
water come clean and fresh
poem by LaRon Green Sr.
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The power of words
Sometimes when you had
an idea for a poem
you didn’t jot it down
and let it be
to fade away into the naught
as if it really didn’t matter
or your words had lost their power
or was there a hidden fear,
something that you didn’t
want to talk about
or something that you didn’t
want to appear,
something that you were afraid
would kill your luck
or disturb your thoughts?
When we spoke at times
you would sarcastically say
go and write a poem about it
and I wonder if you really
didn’t care about writing
or just not about me
or was it jealousy?
Sometimes when the words
of a great poem came to me
you would demand that I immediately
do something for you
to proof my love
and not give me the opportunity
to capture the sacred words.
Yet, as time went by
and I had to leave
the words came back to you
and great verses appeared
and you said that I could string out
poems to the nth power
and wanted me
to write great messages as well
and I was afraid that card like lines
would kill the magic of words in me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Kinda Figured It All Out By Myself
'Daddy...
When I called for you last night,
To bring me a glass of water.
And you were moaning.
And mommy was calling God.
I yelled even louder!
But you didn't hear me!
And I waited for God to bring me water!
But He didn't do the job! '
What are you saying, young man?
'Nothing daddy.
I kinda figured it all out by myself! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like No Other One
You've got me,
And I feel it's for real.
'Cause you've got,
IT...
That sex appeal.
You've got me,
And I know it's the real deal.
'Cause you've got,
IT...
That sex appeal.
And like no other one,
You've got that sex appeal.
And like no other one,
It is so real it heals.
And like no other one,
I know it's a steal!
And I've got it here,
And that for me is for real.
And like no other one,
You've got that sex appeal.
And like no other one,
It is so real it heals.
And like no other one,
I know it's a steal!
And I've got it here,
And that for me is for real.
You've got me,
And I feel it's for real.
'Cause you've got,
IT...
That sex appeal.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
And like no other one,
It's so real it heals!
You've got me,
With your sex appeal.
And it's the real deal for me,
'Cause that's the way I feel.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
And like no other one,
It's so real it heals!
And like no other one,
It is there and real and I feel it is a steal.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
And like no other one,
You've got sex appeal.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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De aguado, le fandango varie O
The descendant of the Spanish Friar says:
What I am selling to you is
Water, something to drink
It is more than that
It is also something to sprinkle
Your forehead
And you become holy
Free from sin
You pay for holiness
Now walk on the aisle
Of the church
And how they look at you
A holy man
Because of my holy water
And you will have a halo
And you become radiant
Radioactive perhaps
I repeat I do not just sell water to drink
It would just be ordinary
I am selling to you purity of soul
I am selling to you a future in heaven
Come now, buy water
Sprinkle your souls
Make them holy
Sprinkle them to all
Parts of your body
Meanwhile, there will be no mass
For the coming week
I will be on honeymoon with the woman
Who got the water from the well
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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