Unfortunately, the real focus in this country has not been on the rest of the world. It's been on our own issues and our own problems. Fair enough. But it means that our simple hopes that everything will just work out abroad aren't really coming to pass.
quote by Jeffrey Sachs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Simple Friend
A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A simple friend doesn't know your parents first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.
A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why it took you so long to call.
A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.
A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.
A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens the refrigerator and helps himself.
A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend knows that it's not a friendship until after you've had fight
poem by lil island Gal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I was Young and Ignorant
When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall,
Our days were spent in happiness, although our means were frugal;
We did not sigh for worldly wealth, for vain and tawdry treasures,
We were a simple country pair with simple country pleasures.
Beneath the village chestnut-tree it was our joy to meet once;
We used to tread the dewy fields with wonder-waking feet once;
We wandered once in leafy lanes and walked in Woodlands shady;
But now she's gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady
I loved her as I loved my life when I was young and tender,
And happily our time was spent although our means were slender.
We used to pass the golden days in countrified pursuits once;
We walked through simple country bogs in simple country boots once.
High hopes of happiness I had, but now my hopes are zero,
Alas! My love has left me now to carve her own career O;
Not all the hopes of her I had of her are worth a maravedi;
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.
My love now dwells in circus halls with clowns and tight-rope dancers,
Where dromedaries play bassoons and sea-lions do the lancers;
She moves amongst trick-bicyclists, buffoons and comic waiters,
With elephants and acrobats and prestidigitators.
No longer daily by my side she wanders through the hay now,
The glamour of the public eye has lured are far away now.
Remorseless Fates, my tender hopes how cruelly betrayed ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.
When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall;
But that was e'er she heard the call of Fame's imperious bugle.
I thought her kind as she was fair, but I was green and calfish;
My love, though brighter than a star, was colder than a starfish.
High hopes of happiness I had when I was young and tender;
But time and tide have falsified my juvenile agenda.
Farewell, my castle is in the air! Phantasmal mansions, fade ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.
poem by Patrick Barrington
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Resolved Like Moves In Chess
a stress issue
can be resolved
like moves in chess
same with some problems
same with life problems
discuss as issues merits
offer a few options
we know within ourselves
not only the best solutions
but cop out solutions
half baked solutions
who chooses real solutions?
we could use the phrase
man up and bit the bullet
or chill let problems flow over us?
sometimes
doing nothing
is as bad or worse
than making a mistake
but with a little reflection
you can resolve your stress issues
identify sources
your real desired outcomes
suffer consequences or reap rewards?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts On Revolution....
you speak angrily of revolution,
yet you're in such a hurry, that
you havent sat down and thought
about what it is you want...
so many issues you're mad about,
but you dont have answers to the
problems... you're not even sure
about what you think caused the
problems.
it's easy to want change, it's hard
to do the work of change... it begins
with knowing who you are as a human being,
seeing your strengths and weaknesses,
and acknowledging, accepting...
in order to change the world we have
to first be willing to change ourselves...
what we have to change in ourselves
begins with our excuses... we have to
turn from our old selfish images of
ourselves, to a real and honest knowing...
the things we want to change in our world
have been inflicted by man... to change the
works of man.... we have to be the man and
woman that we are called to be.
honest, real, caring, involved... willing
to educate ourselves to the truth....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Focus
focus
focus on god
focus on freedom
focus on forgiveness
focus on sweet speech
focus on treasures
focus on humility
focus on commitment
focus on mind
focus on success
focus on health
focus on healthy transformation
focus on goodness
focus on laughter
focus on fun
focus on angel
focus on sweetness
focus on wealth
focus
poem by Johnny Walks
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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Country Fair
We stood and watched the river flow
We were too young to really know
In the country fair
Oh, in the country fair
We laid out in the long green grass
And never thought that it would pass
In the country fair
In the country fair
On an old, on an old open day
On an old rainshine open day
In the country fair
In the cool night air
In sweet summer time
We counted pebbles in the sand
Sand like time slippin through our hand
In the country fair
In the country fair
On an old, on an old open day
On an old raintrack open day
In the country fair
In the cool night air
In sweet summer time
Hmmm mmmm
On an old open day
On an old
Pinecone open day
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never cry for failure
Why at all I should dream for unreal things?
When there is no such possibility for something
I am here in form of human being and that is only fact
Who may feel for me and guide to the noble act?
“No one may” be the ultimate answer to the question
It has found several times the burning desire with mention
The relation is built till the attainment of some real worth
It was not at all considered and was coming forth
The world is nor for wicked and weak
Your struggle and work in volumes must speak
The world may take note only when it is sang all over
You will need then no help or any cover
The world can be bent to your choice
As you are now powerful with your voice
Your word is having some weight and means
Everybody is realizing your worth and somehow leans
You have never cried for failure
It had made your life miserable and very unsure
Still you kept on struggling with full determination
You have every reason to smile at the result of examination
It is not the wealth that you inherit from parent
Your talent and usefulness may look apparent
When you resume to work or come to the public notice
They will towards you with hope and full of promises
You can call it a day of resurrection
Not of repentance but reward for actions
World has taken a note of your contribution
As man you have stood alone for real distribution
All great visionaries were ordinary individual
They took it as challenge and treated as casual
Nothing seemed to them torturous or unusual
They kept simple life as means and ideals
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Misology
Misogamy splintered,
Keeping mysogynist split.
Those with thoughts of misology
Can be said are those who benefit!
They are not commited to marriage,
Or what that union means.
Men today aren't what they were.
Neither are today's women dainty princesses...
Nor are they stay at home queens.
Turning our world upside down it seems.
Men hating women.
And women looking for good men!
Even though there are issues between them...
They still produce abandoned children!
And they become...
Misogamy splintered,
Keeping mysogynist split.
Those with thoughts of misology...
Can be said are those who benefit!
They are not commited to marriage,
Or what that union means.
Men today aren't what they were.
Neither are today's women dainty princesses...
Nor are they stay at home queens.
Turning our world upside down it seems.
Men hating women.
And women looking for good men!
Even though there are issues between them...
They still produce abandoned children!
And they become...
A group that's shunned.
Turning our world upside down,
For their own self worth...
In upheavaled destruction!
Creating debate,
That solicits hatred.
Spinning with cyclicity...
Misunderstandings that take place!
Revolving unsolved we are,
Misogamy splintered,
Keeping mysogynist split.
Those with thoughts of misology
Can be said are those who benefit!
They are not commited to marriage,
Or what that union means.
Men today aren't what they were.
Neither are today's women dainty princesses...
Nor are they stay at home queens.
Turning our world upside down it seems.
Men hating women.
And women looking for good men!
Even though there are issues between them...
They still produce abandoned children!
And they are raised like them...
Searching to find a reason behind
Why their minds are constantly venting,
With fresh venom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.
poem by Annie Louisa Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Wind I Used to Hear it Swelling
That wind I used to hear it swelling
With joy divinely deep
You might have seen my hot tears welling
But rapture made me weep
I used to love on winter nights
To lie and dream alone
Of all the hopes and real delights
My early years had known
And oh above the rest of those
That coming time should [bear]
Like heaven's own glorious stars they rose
Still beaming bright and fair
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
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We must daily decide whether the threats we face are real, whether the solutions we are offered will do any good, whether the problems we're told exist are in fact real problems, or non-problems. Every one of us has a sense of the world, and we all know that this sense is in part given to us by what other people and society tell us; in part generated by our emotional state, which we project outward; and in part by our genuine perceptions of reality. In short, our struggle to determine what is true is the struggle to decide which of our perceptions are genuine, and which are false because they are handed down, or sold to us, or generated by our own hopes and fears.
quote by Michael Crichton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song IV: Draw Near and Behold Me
Love is enough: draw near and behold me
Ye who pass by the way to your rest and your laughter,
And are full of the hope of the dawn coming after;
For the strong of the world have bought me and sold me
And my house is all wasted from threshold to rafter.
--Pass by me, and hearken, and think of me not!
Cry out and come near; for my ears may not hearken,
And my eyes are grown dim as the eyes of the dying.
Is this the grey rack o'er the sun's face a-flying?
Or is it your faces his brightness that darken?
Comes a wind from the sea, or is it your sighing?
--Pass by me and hearken, and pity me not!
Ye know not how void is your hope and your living:
Depart with your helping lest yet ye undo me!
Ye know not that at nightfall she draweth near to me,
There is soft speech between us and words of forgiving
Till in dead of the midnight her kisses thrill through me.
--Pass by me and harken, and waken me not!
Wherewith will ye buy it, ye rich who behold me?
Draw out from your coffers your rest and your laughter,
And the fair gilded hope of the dawn coming after!
Nay this I sell not,--though ye bought me and sold me,--
For your house stored with such things from threshold to rafter.
--Pass by me, I hearken, and think of you not!
poem by William Morris
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And so popular culture raises issues that are very important, actually, in the country I think. You get issues of the First Amendment rights and issues of drug use, issues of AIDS, and things like that all arise naturally out of pop culture.
quote by Kurt Loder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I’m Pleased
I write simple and live simple.
My skill and means aren’t beyond.
When people praise me for these things
I hide the facts and smile with pride.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Today I Do Not Know Where To Begin To Be What I Am
Today I do not know where to begin to be what I am
There are so many problems questions difficulties
‘One at a time’ is no answer for many belong together
I could say that I am reconciled
Having lived long enough and having done what I was able to do
I could say that it does not matter so much
Now that it is mostly over
I could try not to care
And stoically reduce desire to no disappointment ever again
But being who I am and where I come from
I will care to the day I can't
And all the problems of the family and the country and the people and the world
Will be my problems.
Where should I begin today to be where I am?
I don’t know. I falter and try.
The first problem today is myself
And from that I will find all the rest.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Whose Issues Are These?
The fact that I can change my mind,
Anytime I want to and be committed
To proving I can be unstable,
Should prove to anyone else
I have faced my issues.
And.
I am entitled to be just as aloof,
As the next person.
So don't hand me that nonsense,
About me being unaccountable.
When did accountability,
Ever become a priority?
And
Who is to judge to what degree,
My known issues
That are my right to have,
Aren't done with the best of my ability?
Whose issues are these?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You've Got Issues You've Got Issues
Aren't you curious and find it strange,
That those who ridicule and complain...
About what others do and/or don't do,
Seem to have no activities at all...
Other than to come together day after day,
To do the same things?
With nothing to show for their efforts wasted?
'No.
I haven't noticed it.
I do my best to keep busy.
I don't take time watching what others do.
And where are you to observe this...
On a regular and daily basis.'
I'm..uh...I...well...
I asked you the question.
'I understood your question perfectly.
But what I don't understand...
Is 'how' and 'what' THEY do,
Has any connection to you? '
I...uh...well...I'm...
I've got to go.
It is difficult to have a conversation,
With somebody like you...
Who can't answer a simple question.
It's not complicated.
If you've got issues you've got issues.
Avoiding what they are wont solve them.
Especially to judge others.
'I agree with you.
And IF you have to go,
You have to go.
There was a time I'd wake up in the morning,
Confused and complex myself.
Until I self examined.'
Yeah.
I can see that.
Well I hope things work out for you.
Try not to be so negative.
'And...
Try to keep what we discussed,
To yourself, okay? '
No problem.
None at all.
I wont tell a soul.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I go on stage man I just want people to have fun, I don't want people to think about their problems, I want people to get energy and nutrition and food from that so they can go back into the real world and work on their problems.
quote by Jon Fishman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Problems Of The World
THE PROBLEMS OF THE WORLD
The problems of the world-
The problems of my own little life-
Problems and problems and problems.
A poem solves no problems
It escapes into itself
And makes a small world
In which the poet can hide.
The poem is the other world
The one where there is quiet and peace and calm and love
And all which makes one’s own dreams
A morning song.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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