Inconvenient Novelty
long forgotten by passerby
she rocks with screams
trembling under rains decent
another faceless blur
in the city painted abstract
an inconvenient novelty
a ghostly shadow
choking on pity
strangled by contempt
nursing fate
she waits...
for the one that will never come
for the dream that has unfurled
for the timer to run out
for her death to be as uneventful as her life
poem by Aria Siren
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Early Works - Misty City
City’s lights like dotted jewels
glow and blink on night’s velvet gown
mist of white blanket
creates ghostly shapes under light.
Foghorn in bay like monster’s roar
breaks silence in the city’s white crown
people, collars hugging neck
wander on their forever trek.
Quiet cities, misty city,
city by the bay,
listen to the monster baying
at your open door.
“Let us in. Let us in.” they say
and blares another trumpet blast.
“Let us in. Let us in.”.
Your white guardian to pass.
Sleeping city, misty city,
city with halo crown
people in their pastures lay
arms unfurled on bodies round.
Silent demands on shadows lay
across the still waters of the bay.
Ghostly crown holds no pity
welcomes no one to the misty city.
15 June 1978
poem by David Harris
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death Awaits
From the day we are born death waits for us
Every second, minute, hour, death comes a little closer
Death waits for us for when we make the wrong mistake
Or death even waits for age to take us off this earth
Death would not be considered a nice fate
But for some with illnesses and dying of old age
It is the close of hurt, and a step into a new chapter
Death can be painful, or peaceful but only fate knows which is for you
poem by Jordan Miller
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My Fate Has Been Sealed....
My Fate Has Been Sealed....
your love placed inside my heart...
came to me without prior notice...
owned it and got into it to burn this heart...
how pity this heart...
this heart which i hold..
pity you are, my heart from this love...
from those fires which burned you...
and changed your life, up to down...
is that your fate...?
this fate, which wrote on you...?
to be always in love..
in love with whom who don`t know how to take care of you...
who owns this rights...
to make you always in pains...
who can change this...
and who can put the end to this fate..
pity you are, my pity heart...
i know that i shall meet my fate oneday...
but i need a fate which my heart deserve...
i need a happiness...
the happiness which i seek and dream always about...
i will accept my fate for what it was...
but if this fate completed my life with you...
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Two Timer
She thinks shes high fashion
She thinks she looks divine
And thats what I keep tellin her
I tell her all the time
And she tells me she likes fast cars
She says she likes mine the best
And just because of that, baby
You think shed forget the rest, no, no, no
Just call me a three time loser
Thats all Ill ever be
cause my babys such a two timer
You know shes two timing, shes a-two timing me
Two timer, my baby is a two timer
My babys a two timer
My babys a two timer
My baby, shes a-two timing me, timer
Two timer
Just call me a three time loser
Thats all Ill ever be
cause my babys such a two timer
You know shes two timing, shes a-two timing me
Two timer, two timer
My babys a two timer
My babys a two timer
My baby, shes a-two timing me, two timer
My baby is a two timer
Shes nothin but a two timer
Its the truth baby, youre a two timer
My baby is a two timer
My baby is a two timer
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want To Live On An Abstract Plain
Ive had it with this town
I never saw those shifting skies
I never saw the ground
Or the sunset rise
I want to live on an abstract plane
Im building a frame
A place to put my ten-yard stare
Thinking of that paint
Painted in plein-air
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
I want some new terrain
Is it north or south?
I want to live on an abstract plain
I could sit on the roof
On top of that abstract house
See my abstract view
An abstract mouse
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
Tell me Im not insane
Is it up or down?
I want to live on an abstract plane
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I Grew Older
It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun--
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky--
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Losing Again
If erupts again –
the eternal hate of caucuses.
A pipe bomb detonates in a gulley.
Death glides as a superman
like a mutiny in the bowl.
Night stumbles against the kissing moon
on the shore of waning hope.
I will not mourn for my color
I am still nursing a grief.
Walking alone in the shadow of walls
to unhear the screams of dawn.
poem by Satish Verma
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Uneventful Life
We all say at times we live uneventful lives
and I am no exception to that rule.
However, looking back
at the uneventful events in my life
I see my life might not be as uneventful as I thought.
At thirteen
I won an inter-school competition
for a painting that I did
and had, it exhibited
at the Royal Canadian National Exhibition.
Up until I was seventeen,
I never wanted to drive a car.
The thought of doing so
terrified me completely,
then one night while out with some friends
we were involved in a head-on car crash.
In the weeks that followed, I learned to drive.
At eighteen
I took up writing after saying to a friend,
“If they can do it why can’t we? ”
The reference of they was to the Beatles.
At twenty-one
while at a fun fair
I wrote what was suppose to be some lyrics,
but turned out to be a poem
that eventually would be my best loved poem
and read by thousands worldwide.
At twenty-five,
I attended the funeral of a friend
and eventually ended up marrying his widow.
At fifty-five,
I discovered a brother I never knew I had.
At sixty-one,
a classmate contacted me,
lifting me from the doldrums turned my life around.
Someone whom I never talked to
when we were at school,
but who has become a wonderful friend
and extension of my family.
If you take away these little events,
my life has been pretty boring
bordering on the mundane
and very uneventful.
3 September 2009
Authors Note:
This is just a few of the uneventful things that have happened in my life. There are more, but to put them in one poem would make it too long to put up here. Thanks for reading about my uneventful and very boring and mundane life.
Hugs David Harris 2009
poem by David Harris
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Madness?
Madness screams through my soul
I’ve lost it, out of control
Waves of macabre and death
Have I lost it or just forgotten about the earth?
Living a fantasy and a dream
Or is it some sick scheme?
People are no sense, no passion
Individuals, on the same mission
Hypocrites, you all make me sick
One by one, on all of you I spit
Anarchy and freedom, a life I once knew
Locked away, the older I grew
Endless strife of unknown fate
Fed by greed, money to compensate.
poem by Douglas McAntagart
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The Song Of An Old Man
i
his song is sad
a white man in the nursing home
his children sent him there
and they did not bother
ii
the Filipina nurses him
everyday she takes care of him
as he pees
as he poos
she needs the money
she sends her children back in her country
to school
she needs the green bucks to pay her debts
she too has a sad song
iii
and there in the nursing home
the Filipina and the old white man sing their sad songs
they have broken hearts
one waits for his happy death
another one looks for her sad life
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Lone, Long Wait
When God created
The universe,
He made inevitable
This
Lone, long wait.
Every bright day
Waits
Lone and long
To disappear into
The darkness of
night.
Each cold winter
Waits
Lone and long
To bathe in the warmth of
summer sun.
Each heart
Waits
Lone and long
To have a fill of
some love, Some affection.
In its whole run
life
Waits
Lone and long
To nestle in the arms of
Death, the ultimate destination.
I often wonder
Why God?
Why?
Why everywhere
You made inevitable
This
Lone, long wait?
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Life or Death
Death is a mystery,
and life is Suspense.
The journey to death,
is unknown yet,
and Life is a dream stage.
Nobody has come back
From their death,
And life seems to be,
Chasing an invisible end.
Escape from death,
is impossible,
and so from Life.
Death is most painful,
Life is even more.
Death is frightful,
And Life is a puzzle.
So is life,
or Death,
better for a human fate?
poem by Pratisha Karki
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Holy City
Midnight in the holy city
Playground for restless souls
Graveyards for the sons of ft. sumpter
And the ghostly daughters
Wait for their boys to come home
Moonlight in the holy city
So thick it warms the air
Burned my heart on a sweet southern flame
Like a hug from your mama saying it will be ok
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Sunrise in the holy city
The kings and queens shuffle by
Im born here of my own ashes
Just lay me down here when I die
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Ive seen visions
Lord Ive seen visions
Hanging in the summer sky
I fell in love, lost my heart
Laughed until I cried
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Veil of Fate
The unkindly fate that veils the lover’s future
Such is the barbarous condition of new love
The imitative exercises of lost-loves past
Forgotten from the mind of mortal beings
Who fall in love, hook, line and sinker
Again and again and again and again and with
The coming of a new love comes the dream
That led them by subtle ascension to trust
One-another while the horizon momentarily
Broadened for the chance of a lasting love while
Shutting their eyes to complex possibilities of failure
According the power and the opportunity of fate
And the shining contempt of life that leads
The believer to self-denial of a failed love possible
poem by William Cavanagh
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O Town And City To Down And Pity !
O TOWN AND CITY TO DOWN AND PITY
O towns and cities!
If anything goes amiss
In your arteries and veins
Town would tumble 'down'
And city would be a'pity'!
Even the winds have no knowledge
Of the lanes and by lanes
Of the labyrinthine towns!
Let me tell you,
It is no wonder;
The day is not far off
When city folks buy air in kilos
From supermarkets,
And in their living burrows
Churn it with their electric fans
All through the day
To collect every disease
Named and unnamed!
If you search their addresses,
Better approach the diseases
That would guide you in a flash
To their miserable homes!
Both their homes and minds,
Lo, have shrunk like small mustard!
The bit of the sky that they could see
Is just to the size of their plates!
If peace is the one they dream for
They would never get it even in death!
Oh, everything is topsy-turvy here!
They inhale carbon-di-oxide
And exhale their own life!
--S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Escape.... The.... Fate....
She ran ran as running was to escape
escape escape went through her mind
escape escape she beg she ran she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE! ! ! ! she screamed she ran ran
She tries tries she begs begs to escape escape
she screams through out her lungs
She ran ran she beg beg she screamed ESCAPE! ! ! !
escape escape ran through her mind
mind all over her future future of
the fate fate she ran ran to escape escape
she beg beg she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
she ran ran till theirs no tomorrow
until the end of her fate
she beg beg she tries tries to escape escape
she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
The end The end approaches to her
as fate fate is left behind
she escapes escapes
the fate fate she screams
she screams through out her lungs
ESCAPE THE FATE! ! ! !
poem by Linda Anguiano
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Walk The True Blue Way
Moonstreams flowing across a sea of wheat
quicksilver on the puppet kernels
emphasized in the motions of the tide.
Growing in chemical nutrients
a profusion of growth possibilities.
Layers of stratus encircle mountain peaks
coloured pastel yellows a cool summer’s night.
A golden sheen upon the fields
a ghostly white across the rocks.
What is the specific value of man?
Release from caged confinement of imprisonment now
imagination - nourishment beyond stasis dimension.
Preservation, of accumulated knowledge, comprehension
latent will, freewill, and overt, ability to act.
Perplexities the metaphysical mystery of life
cynicism a way of covering embryonic emotions.
The flea poised between animal and deity.
The shadow on the rock.
Its there its gone
its never been
and yellow rains
falling from a blue sky.
Wealth Happiness...
like a shadow
fleeting the world turns
and they are gone.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Shadowed Life
Winter nights & summer days
A frozen meadow with shallow graves
I sit and grieve on this leather weave
For the great love that once was
We rise and fall like the path of the sun
Six feet up to six feet down
We observe our demise with great surprise
Gone when the sun’s in the west
If we accept death as a better place
And pleasantly live our lives
If in death we move closer to the light
Then why is death a world of shadow
Whether were in a concrete jungle
Or a tree-top city
Life always has an end
And death has no pity
So as I sit and grieve on this leather weave
For all of those who have passed
In a blink I begin to think
That life goes by so fast.
poem by Logan Fulk
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Love Litanies.
I.
I, too, have come to feel and see
How little in the world can be
Ours, as we pine and pass —
How all we long for, know of, love,
As in a dream from us remove,
Till each becomes the shadow of
A light that was.
II.
We must all somehow be made
One with time, that fleeting shade;
Until we within the dust
Wither as sweet violets must
In their own scent, as they lie
Like a virgin memory
Trembling with its sweetest breath
In the mystery of death.
poem by Robert Crawford
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