What makes life dreary is the want of a motive.
quote by George Eliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rainy Day
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Becoming Love
Looking for love.
Love from another.
One to fill my void.
A void that could not be filled.
The void was within myself.
Love has no criteria,
It has no agenda,
It has no motive,
Except to love.
It is void of expectation.
If I were to become it,
Then I could find it anytime.
For it would always be within me.
Our will, seeks to be loved.
God's will, asks us to become love.
Love, attracts love,
Like motive, attracts motive.
Love is for another,
Motive is for self.
You find what you are willing to share,
Or what you are willing to become.
At the end of our time,
The only thing that will remain,
Is the legacy of the love.
That we left behind.
What was given to us,
Goes back to heaven,
To be given back.
To those that remain.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Makes the Clouds Echo Roar
What makes the clouds echo roar?
As thunder, makes it's pitch
dark and dreary, becomes the sky
What makes the clouds echo roar?
As the sky opens up, and it begins to pour,
no where to run, no where to hide, as I,
head for cover, and still wonder,
what makes the clouds echo roar?
I look around, and see a door
swiftly as a rabbit, I reach there,
I'm really drenched, and still I ask,
What makes the clouds echo roar?
I shake off the water, on to the floor
the rain has stopped now, as I ask once again,
what makes the clouds echo roar?
do you know what? It dosn't really matter anymore.
Entering The Hall
a lousy day
something is dreary
life is damp and disturbingly wet,
as i enter the hall
where two old men are talking
deaf perhaps
they are shouting about
how life can be so dragging
when i go near them
they look at me with disdain
envious perhaps
about how i have not aged much
because i am smiling
inside it is damp and wet and dreary
but outside i show something warm
the sun and the gentle wind
i am hurt but i never utter the word
of your common complaint.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Though a good motive cannot sanction a bad action, a bad motive will always vitiate a good action. In common and trivial matters we may act without motives, but in momentous ones the most careful deliberation is wisdom.
quote by W.M.L. Jay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is......
Life
Life is a wonderful thing,
nothing compares to it.
Life allow us to live,
life allows us to die.
Life make us strong,
life makes us feel small.
Life allow us to grow,
life allow us to lie.
Life is a moment in time,
life is a blink of an eye.
Life is a prison without bars,
our actions will take care of that.
Life makes us believe,
life makes us cry.
Life is a dream,
life is an....ice cream?
poem by Juan Carlos Abeti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Two Sons!
Without the two sons,
Life is not fun;
So we run,
Behind the two sons.
SON makes you crazy,
With his treats;
SUN makes you crazy,
With his heat.
SON makes you crazy,
As he is rough;
SUN makes you crazy,
As he is tough.
SON makes you crazy,
As he is in sight;
SUN makes you crazy,
As he is in height.
SON makes you crazy,
As he weeps;
SUN makes you crazy,
As he creeps.
SON makes you crazy,
As we have gain;
SUN makes you crazy,
As we have pain.
SON makes you crazy,
As he crys;
SUN makes you crazy,
As he frys.
So without these:
Son and Sun
Life is not fun.
poem by Anju Addanki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Motive Not To Be Provoked
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And there are people more devoted,
To keep their peace condoned.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
To get away from all the alibis.
And those who live their lives making up lies.
With so many to this committed.
As if there's benefit in it.
To change what they say in a minute.
This limits and this diminishes.
This limits and this diminishes.
People have a motive,
To be...
Alone!
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
To get away from all the alibis.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
And those who live their lives making up lies.
To change what they say in a minute.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
There are people with a motive,
To be...
Left alone.
And many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
Many are to this committed.
And doing this free without limits.
Doing this free without limits.
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
And...
Doing this free without limits.
And...
With a motive not to be provoked!
And...
Many are to this committed.
And...
Doing this free without limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Stink!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
All I've ever wanted from you,
Was your trust.
Although my honesty shows,
Perhaps I trust too much.
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
I get the message!
You have preferences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kill Again
Lurking in the dismal fog
Hungry for your blood
Seeking harmless victims
Satisfy my needs
Schizophrenic lunatic
Uncontrolled desire
Rape and ravage lady fair
Pledged to die
No apparent motive
Just kill and kill again
Survive my brutal thrashing
I'll hunt you till the end
My life's a constant battle
The rage of many men
Homicidal maniac...
Trapped in mortal solitude
Lift the gleaming blade
Slice her flesh to shreds
Watch the blood flow free
Hatred growing stronger
None survive my wrath
Suffer from the throbbing pain
Yield your life to me
No apparent motive
Just kill and kill again
Survive my brutal thrashing
I'll hunt you till the end
My life's a constant battle
The rage of many men
Homicidal maniac...
Kill the preacher's only son
Watch the infant die
Bodily dismemberment
Drink the purest blood
Unrelenting need to kill
Death upon you now
Anxiously awaiting
Next in line.
No apparent motive
Just kill and kill again
Survive my brutal thrashing
I'll hunt you till the end
My life's a constant battle
The rage of many men
Homicidal maniac...
(KILL AGAIN)
song performed by by Slayer from Hell Awaits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Easy Dollar Nepotism Has Produced and Made
In the beginning,
Like all games played...
The motive is to undermine,
By an objective no one suspects.
The motive may be publicly announced,
To gain interest, funding and attention.
The objective is to discreetly deceive.
And if this is done with a few collectively...
An intention has succeeded and gains respect.
One can call an organization anything they wish.
With fanfare, music and drumming to assist.
Call it a collection of artists.
Since no one is left to become suspicious of this.
But an over-rated social agency...
To take advantage of one's ignorance,
Seems to have been for 'them'...
An easy dollar nepotism has produced and made.
'Those people know nothing about assembling talent.'
~That has never been their motive or objective.
They needed to find an easy way to feed themselves.
And declaring themselves knowledgeable of an industry,
Was all the proof they needed to bamboozle.
What have they done in the past fourty years?
Besides remodel kitchens and buy new cars.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For the moments
Mutual desire is the essence of sexual relationship.
A man taking a woman out to dinner
Is paying to felicitate her desire for him.
A man hiring a prostitute for sex
Is paying for the absence of her desire for him.
Waitresses showing cleavages get extra tips.
The motive of men is to be endeared by women.
The motive of women is to shine and attract men.
All the ethics are put aside for the moments.
15.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Your Move
Artist(Band):98 Mute
(Print the Lyrics)
Whatever makes you happy
Whatever makes you tick
Whatever makes the days that you pass through
Seem worth it
Whatever makes you feel like you're in place
Whatever makes your burdens lose their weight
Whatever makes you feel like you belong
Whatever makes you strong
It's up to you
Do whatever you want to do
Just be sure you follow through
Whatever makes you feel alright
Whatever gets you through the night
Whatever puts its arms around you
Whatever makes you smile
Whatever makes your daily battles seem worthwhile
Whatever makes you feel like your time is well spent
Whatever causes you to be content
Whatever helps you to erase your doubts
Whatever makes you proud
You are your best critic your best defense
It's you and no one else
So take charge of your choices and your life
Take charge of yourself
song performed by by 98 Mute
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comehere With the Quick Fix
They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.
They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.
People,
Hurting from a pride deep inside...
And found to bitter bite!
And people wanting,
Love.
And more love...
To share and keep around at night.
They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.
They will get it when it comes,
And arrives on the block.
Loaded by a motive that it can't be stopped.
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.
I can't resist it when its sittin' there!
Are you gonna come and get it?
Or do you want this good stuff delivered to you...
Wet and bare!
Telling one another,
This is not a love affair.
But a fairytale that has come true.
I hope I'm getting this exclusively.
This is what I want with you,
And what I wish to do.
Comehere!
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix,
It just hit me!
On my head like a ton of bricks!
Gotta-git-a-quick-fix-of it...
Your love.
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere.
Comehere.
Comehere.
Comehe re.
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Comehere.
Comehere.
Comehere.
Comehe re.
Comehere with the quick fix of your love!
Come and get a quick fix,
Of this love!
Come and get a quick fix,
Of this love!
Come and get a quick fix,
Of this love!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Patience Taught By Nature
'O DREARY life,' we cry, ' O dreary life ! '
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle ! Ocean girds
Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards
Unweary sweep, hills watch unworn, and rife
Meek leaves drop year]y from the forest-trees
To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass
In their old glory: O thou God of old,
Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these !--
But so much patience as a blade of grass
Grows by, contented through the heat and cold.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Squatter's Baccy Famine
In blackest gloom he cursed his lot;
His breath was one long weary sigh;
His brows were gathered in a knot
That only baccy could untie.
His oldest pipe was scraped out clean;
The deuce a puff was left him there;
A hollow sucking sound of air
Was all he got his lips between.
He only said, “My life is dreary.
The Baccy's done,” he said.
He said, “I am aweary, aweary;
By Jove, I'm nearly dead.”
The chimney-piece he searched in vain,
Into each pocket plunged his fist;
His cheek was blanched with weary pain,
His mouth awry for want of twist.
He idled with his baccy-knife;
He had no care for daily bread:—
A single stick of Negro-head
Would be to him the staff of life.
He only said, “My life is dreary.
The Baccy's done,” he said.
He said, “I am aweary, aweary
I'd most as soon be dead.”
Books had no power to mend his grief;
The magazines could tempt no more;
“Cut Gold-Leaf” was the only leaf
That he had cared to ponder o'er.
From chair to sofa sad he swings,
And then from sofa back to chair;
But in the depth of his despair
Can catch no “bird's-eye” view of things.
And still he said, “My life is dreary.
No Baccy, boys,” he said.
He said, “I am aweary, aweary;
I'd just as soon be dead.”
His meals go by he knows not how;
No taste in flesh, or fowl, or fish;
There's not a dish could tempt him now,
Except a cake of Caven-dish.
His life is but a weary drag;
He cannot choose but curse and swear,
And thrust his fingers through his hair,
All shaggy in the want of shag.
And still he said, “My life is dreary,
No Baccy, boys,” he said.
He said, “I am aweary, aweary;
I'd rather far be dead.”
To him one end of old cheroot
Were sweetest root that ever grew.
No honey were due substitute
For “Our Superior Honey-Dew.”
One little fig of Latakia
Would buy all fruits of Paradise;
“Prince Alfred's Mixture” fetch a price
Above both Prince and Galatea.
Sudden he said, “No more be dreary!
The dray has come!” he said.
He said, “I'll smoke till I am weary—
And then, I'll go to bed.”
poem by James Brunton Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Focus More On Motive
Please,
Why can't you give me time...
With allowing my mind,
To find a bit of comfort.
Please,
Why can't you leave me alone...
With a time I can find,
To enjoy that bit of comfort.
I need to...
Focus more on motive.
And,
I need to...
Release anxiety from me.
And I need to...
Let frustrations go,
With a hope you'll comprehend my need.
I need to...
Focus more on motive.
And,
I need to...
Release anxiety from me.
And I need to...
Let frustrations go,
With a hope you'll comprehend my need.
So please...
Why can't you give me time,
With allowing my mind...
To find a bit of comfort.
And please...
Why can't you leave me alone,
With a time I can find...
To enjoy that bit of comfort.
What I need is to focus more on motive.
And,
I need to...
Release anxiety from me.
And I need to...
Let frustrations go,
With a hope you'll comprehend my need.
What I need is to focus more on motive,
With a hope you'll understand my need.
I need to...
Focus more on motive,
With a hope you'll understand my need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes... Life
Sometimes…
When you are searching
For the path of honesty
Life
Makes you walk
The road
Of betrayals…
Sometimes…
When you are seeking
Truest love
Life
Makes you wear
The sandals
Of hatred…
Sometimes…
When you need
To be yourself
Life
Makes you travel
The train
Of disguises…
Sometimes…
When you long
A bullet
Life
Grants you
What you don’t require
Feathers...
poem by Carlos Gutierrez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Depression Is
Depression is when your sad and alone
Depression is when you can't do it anymore
Depression is when all you do is cry non stop and no one cares
Depression is when all you think about is ending your life and giving up
Depression is a life full of hell and heartache
Depression is not a good way to live but when you deal with it all your life like I do it just makes your life miserable and a hell hole
Depression makes you want to cut up your arms, legs, and whole body and watch the blood pour out to make it feel good in life
Everything I go through since I was born makes me have depression and only gets worse as life goes on
Sometimes I get so sick of the depression it just makes me want to end it all and wonder if i'm better off dead
In general depression will never go away, you'll have it all your life regardless
poem by Krystal Shearer
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What dreary soul... [Ce suflet trist...]
What dreary soul have given me
My folks, I can't explain,
How come it's filled up to the brim
With restlessness and pain?
What dreary soul, without an aim,
Made of a lifeless clay,
Which after many lies and tricks
Still hopes to find its way?
How come it doesn't feel the curse,
The blows that make it bow?
O, waves of the majestic sea,
Please, take me with you now!
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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