Sometimes I wonder if suicides aren't in fact sad guardians of the meaning of life.
quote by Vaclav Havel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Understanding Bukowski Now
Later in life I've really come to understand Bukowski.
Without women money would have no meaning,
Men would have no taste.
Soap operas truly are fictional,
Men aren't affectionate out of bed.
Colonel Sanders really is a gender icon,
All he cared about, legs, breasts, and thighs.
Without women man would never truly understand,
The meaning of an alien race.
Why do Black Widow spiders kill their mate after mating?
Just ask any women!
Men marry virgins to avoid the criticism.
Women marry virgins, but there aren't any.
The futility of the arrangement of life!
Charles how I'm beginning to understand.
poem by Barry A. Lanier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life has to be given a meaning because of the obvious fact that it has no meaning.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Question Meaning
The meaning of the question
Is to always question meaning,
The meaning of life,
And the life of meaning.
The life unquestioned
Means very little,
Just as a life left meaningless,
Without question, has very little life.
Therefore, we all should daily question
The meaning of life,
By doing so, life's Meaning
Will unquestionably, each day, find us.
Remember: we are free to question meaning;
May we become free enough to
Let it freely question us.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Guardians Of The Breath
They were guardians of the breath
Trusted with those precious chances
Keeping gaia from the fear of death
Balances must be defended
To take only what they must
(borrowed from the future)
Live in lovers of a global home
(our children will remember)
Guardians slept while comfort came
The vapours poison, the acid rain fell
The spirit cut from earthly bounds
The creature stirred the pain
How much abuse can she take
(awake from your dreamtime)
The lines are drawn our justice awaits
(will the guardians surrender)
The forest bare, a desert born
The life pushed out
They sold her cheaply
All for a shilling for next weeks treat
A marvel that had taken ten thousand years
To take only what they must
(borrowed from the future)
Live in lovers of a global home
(our children will remember)
They are guardians of the breath
Trusted with those precious chances
They are guardians of the breath
Balances must be defended
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think it does work. The fact that the law is there and injustices can be rectified, I think has a lot to do with the fact that the people in this country aren't as frustrated as they are in some of these places in Eastern Europe and don't resort to violent revolution.
quote by Harold H. Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cloud Of Meaning Over My Head
There is always a cloud of meaning over my head, I know
But I always look down on the ground
Never look up in the sky as my head is stuck with heat of life under my feet running into the shoes of tomorrow
I don't know how I can construct meaning out of dust in the heat
But I know meaning is over my head staring down at me
Absurdity is not meaning but life itself is meaning
Life is without meaning. You bring the meaning to it. The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be. Being alive is the meaning.
quote by Joseph Campbell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wanting to Die
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.
Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention,
the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.
Twice I have so simply declared myself,
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.
In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.
I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.
Still-born, they don’t always die,
but dazzled, they can’t forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.
To thrust all that life under your tongue!—
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death’s a sad bone; bruised, you’d say,
and yet she waits for me, year after year,
to so delicately undo an old wound,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.
Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,
leaving the page of the book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love whatever it was, an infection.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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Mumbled and Babbled Chats
Mumbled and babbled chats,
Is not where my head is at...
Most times.
I admit I can scatter back,
Thoughts lacking of fact or tact.
And benign.
They are innocent and clean.
I prefer to be laid back.
Unattached and much relaxed,
Is my mind!
'Cause,
I choose to be lost of meaning.
Daydreaming.
Without scheming in the sack.
That's a fact!
Oh those mumbled and babbled chats,
Is not where my head is at...
Most times.
I admit I can scatter back,
Thoughts lacking of fact or tact...
And benign,
Most times.
'Cause,
I choose to be lost of meaning.
Daydreaming.
Without scheming in the sack.
That's a fact!
Oooh...
Mumbled and babbled chats,
Take them back!
That's not where my head is at,
That's a fact.
Those mumbled and babbled chats,
Take them back!
That's not where my head is at,
That's a fact.
'Cause I'm caught up in daydreaming,
Without scheming for a meaning...
And relaxed!
That's a fact.
Oh, oh...
Those mumbled and babbled chats,
Take them back!
Those mumbled and babbled chats,
Take them back!
Those mumbled and babbled chats,
Take them back!
Those mumbled and babbled chats.
'Cause I'm caught up in daydreaming,
Without scheming for a meaning...
And relaxed!
That's a fact.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.
quote by Emile M. Cioran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All the Jokes
All the jokes have already been told
And so instead, we tell jokes about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
So instead we tell jokes about how
All the new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
Because they remind us about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these jokes get old very quickly
So we make up new jokes about how
The jokes about the new jokes about how
All the jokes that have already been told
Are starting to get quite old
But after a while, once these jokes
Have gotten quite old themselves
We sit and listen to the silence
And wonder about the past, and how
All the jokes have already been told
Then suddenly, out of nowhere
Somebody comes up with a joke
That had been forgotten long ago
But is so funny we can't even breathe
So we roll on the floor, gasping for air
poem by Derek Ouyang
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Yearning to die
Why should i yearn?
I'm dry and weary, I feel like a zombie
naked inside and my blood becomes fatigued.
Even then my life i cherish, for I know that
the autumn leaves will fall and brighten
my injured heart. My thoughts cannot bring
me suicides language, I'm not a friend of evil,
yet still he tries to eat me alive. Worn-out; i can
still feel my body rigorous; my mind giving
signals to my weary body, not to give up. I did
not torture my body like they do to slaves,
suicides will cease and let it rest. I know I
can't trust in the depths of my thoughts, or the
language they speak, that all becomes a passion.
Death is a sad word, although bruised, my wound
will heal. Like the moonlight kisses the night,
I will kiss and gratify the glory of life.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Betrayal
Is it my fault?
Can you tell me what I did?
Whatever I did,
I'm sorry.
We always argue,
We always fight,
Once, long ago,
We were tight.
I don't like yelling,
I don't like it when we fall out,
I hate the fact that we aren't mates
At this current date.
It's hard when we fall out,
Everything I do is with doubt,
I can't talk without someone watching,
Sometimes, it makes me scream.
I hate the fact that I look like the bad guy
In fact, I just want to die,
No-one cares,
No-one loves
Because this crappy world is filled,
Filled with the most horrible thing,
What's that you ask
Why, it's called betrayal
poem by Scarlet Outlaw
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Running Mate
She's shallow and easily programmed.
And maybe that has something to do
With the size of the state she represents.
And that's not sexist at all.
When it comes to speaking about issues, facts and truths...
Her eyes aren't as focused.
In fact...
There seems to be deception hidden behind them!
As they seem to be when she repeats her beefed up resumé.
Making her the obvious choice he could have made,
As a running mate!
Moderate or conservative...
Or whatever those folks call themselves today.
'Right wingers who aren't liberal.
You know...
Those who pack guns, hunt and race cars.
And talk about how patriotic they are.
With isolated values,
They insist should be everyone's standard for life.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Death’s nature
Death takes away life;
So do accidents and suicides;
So do killings and murders.
Healthy life is not sure for a long life.
17.10.06
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just to Have Their Way
Issues.
Of all kinds.
And varying flavors are there.
Share yours or select one.
Discuss as many as you dare!
Those with them,
Aren't bashful at all.
In fact...
Those who sit,
Without willing to share their issues quick.
Are often dismissed as difficult to get along with.
Since they aren't afraid to say...
Those with issues,
Also choose to have their insecurities displayed...
To block what others may do,
Just to have their way!
And usually they get it...
Only to expose themselves dimwitted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Valentine’s Day
Today is Valentine’s Day.
I love you; I want to say why.
You’re a woman.
You aren’t old.
You’re in my vicinity.
You aren’t my property.
You’re in form.
You aren’t a storm.
You’re shy.
You aren’t sly.
You’re friendly.
You aren’t deadly.
Today is Valentine’s Day
I want to say my love to you.
13.02.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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One Life
Waste not this precious life.
Live it up in this life.
Don't wish for another life.
Sometimes it's a fleeting life,
Death can cut short one's life,
Alcohol, Drugs, purse snatchers plight,
Accidents, Murders, tragic suicides.
Sickness, Cancers, Genocides.
Drop the worries, the 'have not',
'what ifs', the regrets, the lot.
What you possess, why measure?
Build, protect your treasure.
A short life, a long life,
A hard life, a good life.
Each, different, yet the same life,
We have but one life.
Short
The depth of life
The length thereof
The depth of a life
The years thereof
The depth of your life
The distance from your first wisp of
Earth's worried air of
Life to the finish line of
A life well lived or of
One which was spent waiting for
The future which may or may not
Hold you in it for
Today is given you to
Make all the difference you can and to
Smell all the flowers you can and to
Love as deeply as you can and to
Let laughter break some ribs and to
Let rain drown your tears and to
Give yourself away and to
Worship as truly as you can and to
Leave your worries in yesterday then
Do the things fear won't let you do then
Say the things that matter most then
Do the things you haven't done then
Do the things you have to do and then
Give a life a meaning
Find life's meaning
Hidden in love's meaning
And your life meaning
Breathing in God's meaning
And pick up a book of meanings
To check the short meaning
Of short and find that that's the
Aching distance from the
First intake of air to the
Last release of the same.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Act I, Scene I: The Finale
Why can't existence
Have intermissions?
Temporary suicides
To keep us in line
And make us want
To come back to life—
Then we may find the meaning
That we have searched for
Throughout anthropology.
But, nevertheless,
We must subject life
To diminishing marginal equality
And force the darkness in—
Slowly
Slowly in.
Slowly through the doors
To the mind, the body, the soul:
Corruption. Hellish corruption.
Inside-out, outside-in
It makes little difference
In the long run,
The life span.
Years go by
Without a break
Without a single break
Like leaving the monitor on,
As it constantly runs
Slower and slower,
Wasting electricity—
The vitality within our walls.
Until the power outage,
The black out,
The end
Of possible existence.
Reboot.
Recharge.
Reasses s.
Come back.
But always, tired friends,
It'll still be the first act.