I was what? - twelve years old - and I was thrown in the cells with these people, so I learned fast.
quote by Gregory Corso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity Of Moment
At twelve of night philosopher thinks with a cup of tea
At twelve of night exuded in dream
At twelve of night cloud of blue sky burns
At twelve of night strip by strip waves fall to ground
At twelve of night full moon flashes of light
At twelve of night horn of car strikes on door
At twelve of night couple enters into dwell of love
At twelve of night loud cry of progenitors comes
At twelve of night machinegun of devilish roars
At twelve of night whistles of train strikes
At twelve of night the red sun of monument raises.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Want Peace
Here it is once again in our face
Why havent we learned from our past
Were at the crossroads of the human race
Why are we kicking our own ass
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
Were on the eve of destruction my friends
We are about to go too far
Politicians think that war is the way
But we know that love has the power
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
The solution is simple and plain
There wont be peace if we dont try
In a war there is nothing to gain
And so many people will die
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Telomenes
Cells generate, repair and degenerate.
Cells divide and produce new cells and die.
Teomenes present in the chromosomes
Are spent at every new cell division
And when telomenes are totally spent,
The cells die. Thus comes aging and death.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As If It Was Theirs On Demand
There is one thing I've learned,
About the use of my time.
I've learned through the years,
Not to let anyone abuse it...
As if it was theirs on demand.
And common sense?
Well...
I have discovered,
That it is not so common.
In fact the absence of it,
Can be expected.
And rare it is...
If it appears at all.
And the doing of something for others?
One should stop and think about that quick.
Since many people don't appreciate,
What it is for them that is done to assist.
Many will complain as if the time taken,
By someone who has gone out of their way...
Is not what they prefer.
They will have the nerve to say,
Something else desired...
Is what they deserve.
There is one thing I've learned,
About the use of my time.
I've learned through the years,
Not to let anyone abuse it...
As if it was theirs on demand.
And what I have chosen to do today...
Is to satisified and please my own thirst first!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Twelve Years
It’s been twelve
Years, I’ve been
Feeding him
My bosom,
Yet his thirst
Remains
Unquenchable,
As my first night
With him.
And I thought,
Twelve years
Is a long time
To get used to,
And get over,
A woman’s bosom.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Sound Of Wings.....
from the bars of the cell,
i learned freedom from the body.
from the underside of the bridge,
i learned home has not a house.
from forty years of working,
i learned the bitterness of the slave.
from the political lies,
i learned that truth cant be bought.
from the books i read,
i learned to reason and question.
from the heroin needle,
i learned the value of life.
from love lost,
i learned how to love.
from doubt i learned seeking,
in seeking i found god to be more.
from the scars on my heart,
i learned to be a man.
from battles fought and lost,
i learned the need for peace.
from discrimination i learned equality,
from anger i learned forgiveness.
from the mirror i learned responsibility...
from the bars of the cell,
i learned the sound of wings!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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What Are You Doing New Years Eve
Maybe its much too early in the game
Ah, but I thought Id ask you just the same
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When its exactly twelve oclock that night
Welcoming in the new year
New years eve
Maybe Im crazy to suppose
Id ever be the one you chose
Out of a thousand invitations
Youd receive
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When its exactly twelve oclock that night
Welcoming in the new year
New years eve
What are you doing new years eve?
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Something New
things are meant not to last
there is always the right time for them to break
into pieces and no matter how we piece them together
they still shatter
like telling you that they are meant to go, to be broken, to be thrown away
a lap top has a time frame of its own
the virus come in waiting and then all of its essence is gone
you weep for things?
don't. They do not weep for you. You are sad when they break? Don't
They don't feel anything at all for you.
a car for twelve years is not your car anymore
the chassis simply take in rust and some wires get meshed up
with tantrums and like nerves they too go awry and die
malfunction so to say from the language of things and tools
now, we see each other. I am human. I am not a piece, a thing.
I am not a car. I am not a lap top with a time frame
for its breaking
a time for throwing and trading-in
a time simply for replacing
Look at me. I have tears. My skin bleeds when you hurt me.
My heart beats faster when you kiss me.
As we throw away what we do not need now
After all the years of keeping, we reflect.
I have this heart that beats for you. I have time outside the frame
of utility. We grow. We commit. We savor.We are present.
For twelve years now, You will always be someone new.
Let the sun shine. Let the heart beat for a new meaning. Love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Was Made To Feel Different In My Younger Years
I remember sitting in the corners of shadows.
Wishing to be invisible,
After making attempts to disappear.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
My voice was deep at the age of twelve.
And my knees knocked.
I was aware I walked pigeon toed.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
People were quick to critique me then.
When they would laugh at me.
I laughed right back at them to hide and cry alone.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
I grew wiser before I aged.
And years it would take for me to learn to forgive.
But I did with a doing successfully.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Perceptive, empathetic and sometimes distant.
Removed from anguish I knew others felt.
Yet today I might sit with periodic embitterness.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
I've learned to use my talents and gifts,
To lift me beyond any loneliness that visited.
And with slow and painful steps I grew to improve.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
And when I self examine to reflect...
So happy I am to have held on to my patience,
With a giving to others a respect regardless...
If little of it was shown to me,
When I was growing to bloom.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Hungering then to be accepted.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Hungering then not to be neglected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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OBL Was Sent To Hell
As a killer who took innocent lives
He has finally paid the price.
Ten long years he hid in the middle east caves
A life that he himself had paved.
He thought that he would never be caught
And for ten years his life was sought.
Usama bin laden is finally dead
With a bullet straight through his head.
His body thrown into the sea
And that’s where he should be.
He is now food for the fish
But I don’t think they want that dish.
Now in this watery grave he will be
Through out all eternity.
No one to look upon his face or to mourn
And his life forever to be scorned.
Al quaeda and all the terrorist cells
Can kiss our ass and join him in hell.
poem by Louis Rams
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What I Learned Today
What I learned today is that there will be a tomorrow,
what I learned today is the truth is full of pain and sorrow.
What I learned yesterday is people make mistakes,
what I learned yesterday is I will do whatever it takes.
What I learned Saturday when i watched you leave I take back
what I said, what I learned Saturday is when we fought i dread.
What I learned now is that part of my heart is gone,
what I learned now is you will no longer wake me up at dawn.
It is quiet with out you,
I feel I have many things to do.
poem by Angelina Sabia
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An Unresolved New Year
At the hour of twelve on New Years Eve
When the old year turns into the new
Thoughts turn to what the future holds
And what goals we should pursue.
At the hour of nine on New Years Day
Or some time thereabouts
We wake with great reluctance and
Those resolutions start to doubt.
At the hour of ten on New Years Day
When we start to feel our age
By then we've written lists of things
That will benefit through change.
At the hour of twelve on New Years Day
When things start getting clear
We find we've hid that list away
To return to in one year.
poem by David Keig
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Hold Fast To The Right
Come and sit by the side of your mother my boy
You have only a moment I know
And stay while I give you this parting advice
It is all that I have to bestow
Hold fast to the right hold fast to the right
Wherever your footsteps may roam
Oh for sake not the the way of salvation my boy
That you've learned from your mother at home
In your satchel you'll find there's a Bible my boy
It's the book of all others the best
It will teach you to live and prepare you to die
And will take to the gates of the blest
Hold fast to the right hold fast to the right...
[ ac.guitar ]
Hold fast to the right hold fast to the right...
Oh hold fast to the right
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shoe
Chilling and gray
Locked down
Twenty-three hours a day
Stretched concrete
Twelve by eight
Windowless
Sheltered from society
A few for years for many
For some
Convicts for life
An inescapable nightmare
Tears apart mens' dreams
Of a better life
Doing nothing
But time for their crimes
Some admit guilt
Few innocent
Workout and a shower
Return to their cells
To end time and fate
Solitary
Confined
At the 'Shoe'
poem by Matt Mondschein
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I've learned
Ive learned that to love someone doesnt have to involve pain,
Ive learned that to have a friend you must be a friend first,
Ive learned that in time youll see your mistakes and learn from them,
Ive learned that to be alone sometimes is the best thing for you,
Ive learned that in order to love a person you must feel loved,
Ive learned that if your wrong admit it or youll never forgive yourself,
Ive learned that your first love will be a part of you and you may never forget,
Ive learned that in order to move on you must fix what was first wrong,
Ive learned that if you ever mess up, you can always start over again,
Ive learned that to be 'cool' doesnt involve pressure,
Ive learned to accept what I have and be happy,
Ive learned that people will come and go so tell the ones you love how you feel,
Ive learned that to respect yourself you must respect others,
Ive learned that your actions always involve consequences whether it be good or bad,
Ive learned that priceless words can mean the world to someone,
Ive learned that sometimes being silent is the best solution,
Ive learned to expect the unexpected,
Ive learned that healing a broken heart involves tears and pain,
Ive learned to see the world in the eyes of others,
And Ive learned that each new day is a day to touch a life.
poem by Carly Almonde
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Paying to experience life and death
death is a load of fun
light years away people line up
for the thrill to experience cells
releasing their hold on oneself
and the extraordinary feel
of slowly waking up to life again
all this, in some 20 minutes
and for as low as 50 cents a trip
light years away from our shores
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Adult stem cells have shown great potential and have effectively helped patients. Another alternative is cord-blood stem cells. These are a neglected resource that could be used to treat a diverse body of people.
One Rose
Rose
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each bruise
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you cheated
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you forced me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each pointless arguement
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each crime
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you try to end me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
How many more can I live through?
poem by Lexie Night
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Cockatoo Twelve Years On '1995
It's been more than twelve years so they tell me since the flames of death passed through
Since the fire that caused destruction burnt it's way through Cockatoo
Lives were lost and houses burnt down blackened miles of countryside
And people wept for lost possessions for their life time work destroyed.
Tears for houses burnt to ashes, tears for lives lost in fierce flame
Tears for trees and paddocks blackened some say 'fire bug '
was to blame
Cockatoo a place of mourning only blackness to be seen
Only smell of smoke and burn out not one sign of Nature's green.
Twelve years on things seem so different Cockatoo looks green today
And who'd believe if you had not known that huge fire had burnt this way
Some still talk of their great losses and the hardships they'd been through
But they recovered built new houses and still live in Cockatoo.
Nature is her own best healer, Nature the true friend of man
Blackness caused by fire and burn out only last for a brief span
Cockatoo is one example what a change twelve years can bring
On green gum tree by the rail track i can hear the shrike thrush sing.
Here in cockatoo this morning fresh and pure the mountain air
Green the trees and green the paddocks green as i've seen anywhere
Twelve years back a blackened wasteland see how green she looks today
Nature is her own best healer and nature always has her way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I went to school for about 2 years on a technical course, and I learned a lot. I learned about air mixture ratios and all the stuff; I learned how to draw blood.