If We Were Ghosts
If we are ghosts and we are already dead,
we wouldn’t need to fight and kill…enough said.
We couldn’t hurt each other if we tried,
we are souls that never die.
We don’t need to do an eye for an eye,
we are all from the same “Soul Pie”.
We think we are all separate from God or the Source,
even if we don’t believe and got off course.
So what we believe is an illusion,
only we can draw a better conclusion.
Perceive things differently and you will see,
we can all get along fabulously.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Gentle Anarchist
I am a gentle Anarchist,
I couldn't kick a dog,
Nor ever would for sport assist
To pelt the helpless frog.
I'd shoot a Czar, or wreck a train,
Blow Parliament sky-high,
But none could call me inhumane;
I wouldn't hurt a fly.
I wouldn't hurt a fly,
And why indeed should I?
It has neither land nor pelf
That I covet for myself,
Then wherefore should I hurt a fly?
I am a gentle Anarchist,
I live on herbs and fruits;
It don't become a communist
To eat his fellow-brutes.
I'd fire a town, upset a state,
Make countless widows weep,
Yet I am so compassionate
I wouldn't kill a sheep,
I wouldn't hurt a fly;
And why indeed should I?
If it doesn't interfere
With my personal career,
Why the dickens should I hurt a fly?
I'm such a gentle Anarchist
I hate all hunting men;
I couldn't hook a fish, or twist
The neck of cock or hen.
I'd level gaols, let scoundrels loose,
Blow priests and churches up—
But, oh, my pity's so profuse
I couldn't drown a pup.
I wouldn't hurt a fly;
And why indeed should I?
Unless, that is to say,
I found it in my way,
And then it's all up with the fly.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If
What if I couldn’t see?
I wouldn’t know how to be.
What if I couldn’t walk?
I wouldn’t be able to go to the park.
What if I couldn’t smell?
I wouldn’t know early monsoon shower smell.
What if I couldn’t feel?
I wouldn’t even know how to heal.
What if I couldn’t taste?
All the gourmet food would go to waste.
What if I couldn’t touch?
I wouldn’t know love as such.
What if I couldn’t cry?
I wouldn’t be able to let go of grief even if I try.
What if I couldn’t smile?
I wouldn’t be able to feel light even for a while.
I can do all of these things
Lord, it’s a blessing.
, These are the gifts
We realize when we are unfit.
I have really no clue
How the less privileged do.
I guess with courage and acceptance
They go on with grace.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Ghosts
The ghosts of not repentant souls
Wander in the quiet woods night.
Only chilling cries of the owls
Cause the lightest fright.
Flying Dutchman frightens seamen,
Its sight is a portent of doom.
It was told by John Leyden
Sinful souls went to gloom.
Ghosts dwell in the hills.
Climbers know a ghost can kill.
To some they help to cross the river,
But seeing them you would shiver.
Haunting cities, haunting countries…
Are they humans eye illusion?
Are they really verities?
It looks they come to make pollution.
Ghosts are here, ghosts are there!
It seems they are everywhere.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of August,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes
Sometimes I'm a loser yes I am
sometimes I'm ok.
Sometimes I don't really know...
what I am to say...
Sometimes I'm afraid of life.
Sometimes that's okay.
When we're separate from this,
universal way...
Sometimes Im mad
And some times angry to.
But mostly hurt.
To the middle of this precipice,
sometimes I'm just a gust of wind....
Letting him in my head again
Its not my choice as such
Letting him win...
If I killed myself,
He wont find me
If I'm dead and gone,
He cant hurt me
To this soul of mine,
Long and dead?
Will I know I am gone?
Will I roam on and on?
As in life I could not fight.
It was way to much.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Soon you'll forget me
Sometimes I'm a loser yes I am
sometimes I'm ok.
Sometimes I don't really know...
what I am to say...
Sometimes I'm afraid of life.
Sometimes that's okay.
When we're separate from this,
universal way...
Sometimes Im mad
And some times angry to.
But mostly hurt.
To the middle of this precipice,
sometimes I'm just a gust of wind....
Letting him in my head again
Its not my choice as such
Letting him win...
If I killed myself,
He wont find me
If I'm dead and gone,
He cant hurt me
To this soul of mine,
Long and dead?
Will I know I am gone?
Will I roam on and on?
As in life I could not fight.
It was way to much.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warriors
The soul speaks from a warrior's spirit
Chants of war, execution of arts
In gruesome battle, one fears it
Death is when war starts
Agony cries god is pain
Brutality lords the field
Innocence killed hearts slain
Other hearts to ferocity yield
Strange calm, war mediation
Prayers to the brave
Tears in formation
Bodies march to the grave
Acts remembered, bodies burn
Ancient drum rolls
Human valor they earn
The valor of dead souls!
Archangels of war's path
Passion engulfs nature's law
The heart of war's wrath
The most dangerous organ man saw
Fight, fight, fight
Violence man's only right
Kill, kill, kill
The enemy and blood shall spill
Into earth's soil
Man's real home
Man's bloody ego
To live in loam
With souls dead long ago
Total war
What man's malice is for
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Mad Professor Blyth
Mad Professor Blyth is working on his pet invention
to dematerialise himself into the fourth dimension
He's got his mind set on illusion
to find the secrets of diffusion
Conclusion: he disappeared
Tried it on his cat one grey night when it was foggy
Never got it back Oh what happened to his Moggy
He's got his mind set on illusion
to find the secrets of diffusion
Conclusion: he's disappeared
All the kids around about his neighbourhood
used to laugh at him and call him names
Silly old bat freaky four-eyes
sort of things they used to shout
He can't hear them now
He's disappeared
Colleagues at the lab
they all thought that he was crazy
Don't know where he's at
His formulas to them are hazy
He had his mind set on illusion
He found the secrets of diffusion
Conclusion: he's disappeared
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Illusion Of Power
What is it that turns you on to the illusion of power,
This thing that grabs you by the heart and makes you want to tear things down.
There is no reason why I should need all this power, but if you cross me now,
Im gonna tear your whole world down.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
I cant get the emotional thing straight in my head,
Everything I love dies too soon, or is already dead.
Dont stand too close I spit and breathe fire,
Anything Ive got now you cannot desire.
You want to be my friend, I promise you nothing.
Nothing I can give you, nothing I can do for you,
Im being chased by the sins of my past and its killing me now,
Killing me now.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
The illusion of power, its already set signed and sealed,
The illusion of power.
Fool, youre caught in a complex catacomb of your own inadequcies and pitiful weaknesses,
Your soul secretes insecurity.
So you live on the reflection side of the mirror; youre terrified of true power.
You fear
I can tell you stories of my
Shaded past and I can drag you down into the depths of my soul.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
The illusion of power, its already set signed and sealed,
The illusion of power.
Why dont you come closer, promise a story I will tell, yeah,
Ill save you from your dreams, yeah
Ill save you from your dreams.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Differently
Wish you told me by and by,
That my life would come to this,
That I'd have to find a way
to let things go,
That my friends would turn to foes,
And my love would come to blows,
Then I would have done some things
differently.
Differently...
I would ask you out every night.
Differently...
And I would make you feel so good.
Differently...
And appreciate the things that
you bring to me, babe.
Differently...
Oh yes I would, oh yeah.
Yeah, I know you tried and tried,
But your signal I just missed,
When you said my little girl
would soon be gone,
Yes I didn't hear you then,
And it might be too late now,
That's another thing I'd do
differently.
Differently...
Like trying to make you feel
loved every day.
Differently...
And saying little things to
let you know how I feel.
Differently...
Yes I can hear your young
voice calling me, babe.
Differently...
Oh yes I can.
When I 'm away I call you up,
And you don't seem to miss me as much,
But I know our love
is still there in your heart,
Just differently.
Differently...
Oh yes, I can hear your young
voice calling me, babe.
Differently...
Oh yes I can.
Differently...
I'd appreciate the things that you
bring to me babe, yes I would.
Differently...
Oh come on back to me babe,
bring your love back to me.
Differently...
Oh yeah I need your love,
I need your love.
Differently...
Yes I can tell you babe,
I need your love.
Differently...
Today is a brand new day, yes it is.
Differently...
Got to get your love back, babe,
come on now bring it back to me.
Differently...
Turn it around babe, turn it
around and bring it back.
Differently...
Yeah, yeah, oh yeah, got to get
your love back, come on babe.
Differently...
Yeah I can hear your young
voice calling me babe.
Differently...
Come on back to me, come on back,
yeah yeah, turn it around.
Differently...
Oh yes I can, yes I can.
Differently.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I couldn't kill a chicken, I couldn't kill a cow - I was a vegetarian too at that time - so I thought, well what is there that I could kill? I couldn't kill this and I couldn't kill that.
quote by Ellen Burstyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You draw beautifully with your pencil
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
sketches of almost any flower and plant,
things that are alive and some things that are dead
even a woman giving birth
on the beach.
You draw beautifully with your pencil
on a table are slices of bread
with a hungry dog on the other side;
things that are alive and some things that are dead,
there are children that are wasting away from starvation
and a woman’s hand with a wedding band.
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
a sounding level going down a well
being held by a strong male hand.
Things that are alive and some things that are dead,
you sketch and sometimes it’s any thing valuable;
even people in love on a tropical island
and you draw beautifully with your pencil
things that are alive and some things that are dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Internal Bleeding
Rot Alone. Destiny,
killing the souls of lives at your feet.
Dead to its fight.
Hell as they said.
Killing the darkened rotting fate.
Fate. Rot Alone. Bludgeoning hell.
Finding their souls and returning to dwell.
Killing and bleeding tightened as one.
Killing the darkest rotting fate.
Rot all lesions.
Glory. Rotting, plowed.
Dead he's killed your soul.
Glory. Rotting flower.
Kill.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Souls
Pale ghosts against dark walls,
figures thirsting for freedom
Loveless styles force quick arrival,
one way doors heavy their souls.
Ghosts possess souls,
though dark walls do conceal.
Freedom is there
souls all cannot hear
Dimensioned freedom
exists for ghosts who thirst.
Have not these ghosts discovered
contrasting love within infinite darkness?
poem by Elizabeth Wiles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rumour Spread Thus
The rumour spread that he is dead
the talks were excited with passionate greed
anxious souls rushed to the site
eager for morsels of material food
(to pacify momentary greed
though not satiate the need for more)
as he lay he heard the commotion
quickly he came to the conclusion
and the poor unloved soul
thought it fit to kill what was left
of the dying life in him
the rushing crowd of wards and worse
saw the father writhing in pain
his slit hand spoke volumes
of the hurt that loved ones gave
did realisation dawn, better sense prevail
did greed subside? truth and love prevail?
in hushed tones the neighbours spoke
of heartless sons and cruel daughters
who having had their due
would only turn back to scrounge for more.
poem by Sreelekha Premjit
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If I Were A Boy
If I were a boy
I will be a good man
I would love my girl forever
If she love me the same
and faithful to our love’d
I’ll do anything for her
If I were a boy
I would respect my girlfriend
feelings I'll make her feel
so special and I will be loyal to her
If I were a boy
I will teach every “badboy'
a lesson and I will taught them
how to respect their girl’s
and never threated girl's
like a toy’s
If I were a boy
I put my girlfriend always first
I will not fight with my girl
I will talk nicely to her
and I wouldn’t insulted her
If I were a boy
I will be a good man
I wouldn’t cheat and I wouldn’t lie
I would spend a quality time
and I wouldn’t be an ass
for accusing her of cheating
If I were a boy
I will protect my girl
I will stand by her
and take her side
and do things that
makes her always happy
If I were a boy
I would never hurt my girl
I would never do anything
that disrespect our love’d
I’ll threat her like a princess
with all the respect she deserve
and I will love her with all
my heart and soul
If I were a boy
but I'm just a girl..
poem by Zaarah Jasmin
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Soul Healers Restore Birth Purpose
secondary source seekers believe
mysticism is only found in books
learned from masters attaining
mystic insight taught segments
venture forth into source experience
remember primary source manifest
souls born to raise human vibrations
souls born who seed life perceptions
seek soul healers restoring birth purpose
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Stand Tall
Wondering around
like a man
with no soul
I couldn't hide
I couldn't lose the fight
I had to stand tall
and find my soul
reunite and fight the fight
Everyone will kick you
when your down
But if you stand tall
They will soon back down
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Iternal Bleeding
Rot alone, destiny.
Killing the souls of lives at your feet.
Dead to its fight.
Hell as they said.
Killing the darkened rotting fate, fate.
Rot alone bludgeoning hell.
Finding their souls
And returning to dwell.
Killing and bleeding tightened as one.
Killing the darkened rotting fate.
Rot all lesions.
Glory, rotting plowed.
Dead hes, killed your soul.
Glory, rotting plowed(plowed echoed) kill.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Reasons For Doing
There are so many things I'd like to do.
But they wouldn't mean a thing if not for you.
If I sang a song that you couldn't hear
all it would do is bring a tear.
If I painted a picture you couldn't see
all it would do is bring me agony.
If I touched soft things that you couldn't feel
all it would do is seem unreal.
If I traveled to eternity without you there
all it would do would be more than I could bear.
For you are the reason I would do these things.
You are the one that holds my heartstrings.
And so I must tell you this, my dear.
I'd probably do nothing if you weren't here.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Told Me Then(fav!)
Why couldn't you ave have told me then...
I still remember the first day I saw you.
Your white tee and your bright blue gym shorts.
Our teams played soccer against each other.
You had to play on our team because you were just too great.
We used to Instant Message each other everyday.
Guitars, soccer, just bout every other thing.
We used to talk, we used to share, well we used to be.
Why couldn't you have told me then?
I regret many things I did, that weren't bout you,
But oh how they affected you and me.
There's a long long list of things I regret not telling you then.
Because if we didn't keep our secrets way back when,
I wouldn't have to think,
'Why couldn't you have told me then? '
I miss when you talked to me first.
I remember all those smiles when we used to talk.
I remember when you said 'Should I sing for a special girl? '
I can only imagine if you meant that for me.
Because imagining you and me is all it will ever be.
But if you ever realize that you don't just used to like me,
Aaron, please..you just tell me.
So I won't have to be thinking, wouldn't be wondering anymore,
Why couldn't you have told me then?
But until then, I'll sit back and wait.
Cuz you are worth any wait.
There's no one else on this earth whom I can more relate.
You're my soul mate, for goodness sake, maybe it's fate.
Why couldn't you have told me, you loved me, dreamed of me?
Why didn't you realize I'm falling for you from the highest height?
Why couldn't you have told me back then...
Because things could've been different.
We coulda been together.
We could be the best ever.
Aaron, why couldn't you see my obvious lovestruck face back then?
I hate endings with no beginnings..
But if you ever want to begin, you know I'll always be waiting.
AMH
poem by Khloe Chace
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