You look at the fact that for millions of years species on earth have been developing and we've been knocking them off at like a hundred a day.
quote by Jon Fishman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every peak crumbles
Four hundred million years ago,
Three hundred million years ago,
Two hundred million years ago,
And seventy million years ago,
The world had witnessed
In succession,
Major calamities of the major species,
The Dinosaur being the last victim.
Next, in midway, are we, the Homo sapiens?
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There Have Been Millions And Millions Of Years
THERE HAVE BEEN MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF YEARS
There have been millions and millions of years
And there will be millions and millions more
And I have had only less than seventy-
There is so much to see and be and know
I could understand far more than I do now
I have so much beauty and hope and love in me
Why do I have to die?
It does not seem fair or wise
So much waste and loss in my dying
Worlds in me that will never be known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Broken mould.
What mould was used to create
the species of earth?
The mould changes automatically,
to create the better species.
Who has programed the mould,
to be mold, omitting the U?
The mould that is kept in every species,
in the form of DNA and RNA.
What an Creator is that person,
who has such knowledge.
It took thousands years,
to decode the secrets of procreation.
It took millions of lives,
to find out remedy for infections.
It has taken a life span of human,
to realize the truth in final breathe.
If The same mould is used,
there is no kick in it.
The variation is a pleasure,
Various kinds of people,
with variant characters,
distinctive features, color and hair,
but Color of the liquids,
rhythm of the heart beat,
months of full term pregnancy,
are all same for every species.
A simple change
may mutate the functions.
Let us be proud of the moulds,
that we have in us.
Let us make use of the mould,
that we have inherited.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Don't waste the food..
Dusty roads are many, where gutsy people walk,
Muddy paths are countless, where trusting lives live,
On the embankments of river, ravine and monsoon canals,
Millions of babies formed, born, grown and give birth,
We are the tough species to conquer any other species,
We have come a long way not to make it a short exit,
Let us celebrate our victory with the mother earth,
Where her treasure are being stolen for our mirth,
Diamond cuts a diamond; a heart wounds a heart,
We, human, hurt our fellow human for our greed,
Millions roam on the urban jungle for the food,
Millions throw the food into the bin as a fad.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Crime is a fact of the human species, a fact of that species alone, but it is above all the secret aspect, impenetrable and hidden. Crime hides, and by far the most terrifying things are those which elude us.
quote by Georges Bataille
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Poems This Life
THESE POEMS THIS LIFE
These poems this life
What have I done?
After all the years of efforts?
Scraping for some sign of confirmation
Some small word of listening
Some meaning for someone or something.
What have I done?
Lived a life like millions of species on this earth
Whose final word is only
Their own non- existence.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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One Hundred Years From Now
One hundred years from now when I am long gone
And there is not one mention of my name
Life it will carry on as it has always
And people will enjoy their weekend game
Of golf or tennis, bowls, football or cricket
Or whatever work free leisure they enjoy
And birds will sing on bush and tree and hedgerow
And lark to sing up to the clouds will fly.
One hundred years from now when I'm forgotten
The migratory waders will fly to the Northern Spring
And raise their families by the Artic waters
The call of Nature is a marvellous thing.
One hundred years from now the crimson lory
Will lay her eggs in cavity in tree
And little blue penguins will nest in their burrows
On grassy heights above the southern sea.
One hundred years from now there will be roses
And wildflowers in the Spring will come to bloom
And despite the high increase in the human population
For Nature's beauty there will still be room.
One hundred years from now you'll have the rich and famous
And the forgotten millions living in poverty
And there will be wars and rumours of destruction
And things won't have changed much in a century.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The one process now going on that will take millions of years to correct is the loss of genetic and species diversity by the destruction of natural habitats. This is the folly our descendants are least likely to forgive us.
quote by E.O. Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our climate is changing. The Earth's climate has, in fact, warmed by 1.1 to 1.6 degrees Fahrenheit since the industrial revolution. People look at this and say: Oh, that is not very much. In fact, it is very much, and it changes the dynamic. It impacts species. It kills some. It diminishes the carbon sink of the ocean. It does a number of things.
quote by Diane Feinstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midnight
They put away the DDT now
But gave metal to the sea
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
The only eagle, only tree
Within a desert that was green
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
Midnight
Draws ever near
Daylight
Is fading so fast
It's so close to midnight
Midnight
The melting ice will fuel the sea
By burning gold from ancient tree
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
This is progress, this is sin
Injecting poison in her skin
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
Midnight
Draws ever near
Daylight
Is fading so fast
It's so close to midnight
Midnight
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe the great ones, Plato, Lao Tze, Buddha, Christ, Paul and the great Hebrew prophets are not remembered for negation or denial. Not that it is necessary to be remembered but there is one purpose in
writing I can see, beyond simply doing it interestingly. It is the duty of the writer to lift up, to extend, to encourage. If the written word has contributed anything at all to our developing species and our half developed culture, it is this: Great writing has been a staff to lean on, a mother to consult, a wisdom to pick up stumbling folly, a strength in weakness and a courage to support sick cowardice. And how any
negative or despairing approach can pretend to be literature I do not know. It is true that we are weak and sick and ugly and quarrelsome but if that is all we ever were, we would milleniums ago have disappeared from the face of the earth, and a few remnants of fossilized jaw bones, a few teeth in strata of limestone would be the only mark our species would have left on the earth.
quote by John Steinbeck
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When Earth Quaked
Earth uncovered
Two hundred thousand dead
A woman groaned
Stone slabs crushed her head
These are the times
When God weeps
When the earth quaked
I heard His steps
In my pain
I am filled with anger
My blood curls
As I ponder
How many lives slip
In this quake's blunder
This is how earth rage
I am thankful
For the hands He sent
The press
People from every corner
Friends I never knew
This is how you know
He never sleeps
Many dead
But many spared
So I am not mad
New lives conceived
Still lives to be lived
Two hundred thousand dead
But millions breathe
poem by Buxton Shippy
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0015 'Intelligent Design' Goes Bats
Once upon a time
in the forests of Ecuador -
but this is a true story,
who'd dare to make it up?
there was and is today
a flower with a deep bell-like cup
whose tempting nectar is just out of reach
to all but one species
In the forests of Ecuador
there's a species of bat
with a tongue 9 centimetres,
that's 3 inches, long
and therefore quite a proportion
of its bodyweight
which is the only species
yes you've guessed it
there's something going on here
it's called something like
species co-evolution -
have they come to some cute arrangement
and if so, what language did they whisper in?
that means, over hundreds, thousands, millions?
of years, each generation the flower's bell
got infinitesimally longer and
the bat's tongue got longer
Had they allowed for the possibility
that one day, mankind,
meddling as mankind does,
might mess up the rain -forests of Ecuador
and suddenly, a shortage of
flowers - or of bats?
the deal's off... but anyway,
who gave these guys the right
to bargain this private deal?
Can it be that Intelligent Design
sticks a offside pass or two in?
A kinda divine joke by Evolution
or vice versa..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Cakewalk
I admit my life has been a cakewalk.
And every beating I've endured,
That has scraped my knees...
As I fell to awaiting pavement,
And knocking my head against obstacles...
I can say today,
After experiencing the heat of it...
And tasting every bit of the mixture made,
I have grown to enjoy in my progressing years...
The addition of the delicious frosting I did not expect.
After developing my patience and eliminating regrets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What If I Came Knocking
What if I came knocking
On your front door some night?
Would you open the window
And drop me down the key?
What if I came knocking
On your bedpost that same night?
Would you open up your heart
Or try to get the best of me?
What if I came knocking
On your brain the next day
And ask for your truth and your love and your honesty?
Would you build up your big walls
And try to hide behind that smile
Or would you try to pull the wool right over me?
So what if I came knocking?
So what if I came knocking?
So what if I came kicking
And it scared you a little bit
And I came on strong
Would you think
That theres something wrong with me?
Or could it be your fears
Of trying something real
Or just afraid to touch
A guy like me?
What if I came knocking?
What if I came knocking?
What if I came knocking
On your front door some night? ahh
So lets just say it worked out
Like a storybook dream
And we lived happily ever after
Fa la la la
But what if I came crying
After just a few weeks
And said I misread my heart
This is not really meant to be? yeah
So if you hear some knocking
On your window tonight
You can bet that its probably me
But let it be known
That were just a pair of tumbling dice
And the outcome of these crap shoots
Is hard to see
So what if I came knocking?
So what if I came knocking?
So what if I came knocking
On your front door tonight? ahh
So what if I came knocking?
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knocking
Kick, kick, kick
What if I came knocking
On your front porch tonight, tonight?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Makes Me Want To Cry
Just a few facts
that should make you want to cry…
Four thousand per cent markup
On each bottle of water you buy
Four per cent of all U.S. energy is consumed
In the making of plastic
So I’m guessin’ that our average person
Doesn’t think the energy crises is drastic
Doesn’t even matter
what you’re putting in it
One hundred forty four thousand
plastic bags are used every minute
At least four billion bottles
purchased in 2010
An amount that’s quite
Impossible to truly comprehend
Twelve per cent of all plastic
Is turned into solid trash
Which we then convert into big smelly piles
And then try to find a place to stash
And speaking of taste there’s
one thing that you oughta’
Know about your spring
and mountain pure bottled water
And that’s one not so surprising fact
That most of your prized mountain,
and your precious spring water
Comes into your bottles from an ordinary tap
At least four hundred million barrels of oil
Used to make plastic bottles and bags in 2010
Look at the bright side, at least we’ve made a lot of Arabs happy…
In Saudi Arabia, Libya, and Iran!
So maybe it’s the shape or maybe the cachet
That works it’s insidious seduction… (but stop and think!)
A hundred watt bulb can burn eleven hours
On the energy wasted on just one bottle’s production
Eighty percent of marine garbage is plastic
Two hundred species at risk from plastic waste
But what’s a few species? Let’s not be drastic!
We certainly wouldn’t want to act in haste.
Three hundred thousand pounds per square kilometer
Floating in the Pacific alone
So we oughta’ start thinking about using the Atlantic
When we start thinking of tossing our old cell phone
So when you buy your next bottled water
There’s one thought I’d like to plant under your nose
It takes only a few seconds to make one plastic bottle
But takes four hundred fifty…years to decompose
poem by David Whalen
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A Hundred Years From Now
(words & music by flatt - scruggs)
Well a hundred years from now I wont be crying
A hundred years from now I wont be blue
My heart will have to forget that we ever met
But I wont care a hundred years from now
Ill never forget sweetheart the night you told me
That you could live without my love somehow
Thats all in the past I knew it wouldnt last
But I wont care a hundred years from now
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Times
Our Times
13.7 billion years ago
4.5 billion years ago
3.5 billion years ago
200 thousand years ago
10,000 years ago
5000 years ago
3500 years ago
1800 years ago
500 years ago
50 years ago
One hundred years from now
Five hundred years from now
Ten million years from now
Ten billion years from now
We are where we are now
Where are we now?
Who are we now?
What will we be?
When?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Your Mandate
you do not like the image of the bird with a hundred eyes
and he follows you because he loves you
he exercises restraint on his fingers and sketches a petal
you want more of it and so he draws a rose with lots of red petals
just to please you but
deep within him he wants to be that bird with a hundred eyes
on a hundred wings to fly the thousand filaments of winds
but because he loves you he stays as a hand waiting
for your orders
time knows how to make a solution and
it takes you with the hard grip of its hands
your breath is taken away
and he buries you immediately deeper than you expect
to the dampness of
the earth
now he becomes a bird with a hundred eyes and a hundred wings
so free so delighted
he does not even want to mention your name ever again
despite the fact that he still loves you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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