Confidential Canberra
Nay, Mr Speaker, let the ideal stay,
The picture that voters have in mind
Of Solons in debate far leagues away
Deep in the problems of poor humankind.
Here where the Cotter wends by verdant banks,
Let them imagine eloquence sublime
And for those blessings offer grateful thanks,
And vote for us again when comes the time.
Never the real! Ah, let no listening 'mike'
Whose ear ubiquitous within the house,
Gathers too truly what debates are like
When Ministers grow hot and members rouse,
When shouts across the floor fly back and forth
And loose tongues wag with little thought for care,
When words released in unconsidered wrath
Are flung regardless to the ambient air.
Think, Mr Speaker. All that Canberra means
All that it typifies is here at stake.
Must Cairns be privy to unlovely scenes,
The Leeuwin learn of all the bulls we make?
Must the unguarded phrase the tart retort
From Darwin down to Derwent and beyond
Borne on the trembling ether be a sport
Where'er loud speakers mockingly respond.
Why have we set these legislative halls
Midst sylvan scenes within the distant bush
If, broadcast, all the clamor but recalls
Forgotten pictures of a noisy push
That once in other cities held debate
Too publicly to let our words run free.
Condemn us not again to that sad fate.
Preserve our prestige! Spare our dignity.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mr Speaker
Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Speaker Gets The Word
Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Egotist
Megaceph, chosen to serve the State
In the halls of legislative debate,
One day with his credentials came
To the capitol's door and announced his name.
The doorkeeper looked, with a comical twist
Of the face, at the eminent egotist,
And said: 'Go away, for we settle here
All manner of questions, knotty and queer,
And we cannot have, when the speaker demands
To know how every member stands,
A man who to all things under the sky
Assents by eternally voting 'I.''
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Fidget And Squirm
You challenge me to debate?
That's great.
You name the time, place and date.
And I prefer to do this,
Without the presence of note taking.
What is the topic you have picked to slate?
I anticipate this.
I can not wait.
'I will have to research that.
You are a bit too eager,
To be seen the fool I wish to make.
Too eager you are.
I'll have to pick on another,
To debate on my terms.
It is you and not me,
I want others to see publicly squirm.'
Oh, no problem.
I thought you were seriously prepared.
'To debate? '
No.
To fidget and squirm.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lone Wolf Of Canberra
A man without a party, he
Knows nought of obligation
To any friend; but, fancy free.
He represents the nation.
In lonely majesty he sits
To give the Opposition fits,
Or rend the Government to bits
With fierce vituperation.
Of all he is most wise, most free,
Most pure, and - inter alia
Shorn of responsibility,
He speaks for all Australia.
Tho' parties rise or parties fall,
What cares he? He's 'Agin 'em all.'
Sole patriot, clad, at Freedom's call,
In Liberty's regalia.
All, saving him, are out of tune
When the lone wolf is howling.
He lifts his head and bays the moon
With fierce, but futile growling.
And, tho' the Opposition squirms
And Ministers would sue for terms,
He knows them all for loathy worms,
Despite the Speaker's scowling.
At Canberra he's as free as air
So say the press recorders.
He knows no man as master there
Within its sylvan borders.
And so, tho' members fret and frown,
He scarcely ever need sit down
Except to write to Sydney town
To Mister Lang, for orders.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Idler’s Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. February
UNDER THE SPEAKER'S GALLERY
In all the comedy of human things
What is more mirthful than for those, who sit
Far from the great world's vain imaginings,
To mingle in its war of words and wit,
A listener here, when Greek meets Greek, Fox Pitt,
At question--time in the Queen's Parliament?
'Tis the arena of old Rome. Here meet
More than mere Dacians on mere slaughter bent.
Yonder and close to Mr. Speaker's chair,
Enfolding all things in a net of words,
Stands our first gymnast. Let the rest beware.
The Tory Stafford, with voice sweet as bird's,
Shall answer him anon, or bolder borne
And if luck favours, from the nether herds
A voice of patriot wrath shall rise in scorn,
Or even young Cassius blow his windy horn.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pictures Of You
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you that I almost believe that they are real
I have been living so long with my pictures of you that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel
Remembering you standing quiet in the rain as I ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed as the sky fell and holding you close
How I always held close in your fear
Remembering you were the song through the night
You were bigger and brighter and whiter than snow
Screaming at the make believe, screaming at the sky and you finally found all your courage to let it all go
Remembering you falling into my arms, crying for the death of your heart
It was stone white, so delicate, lost in the cold, you were always so lost in the dark
Remembering you, how you used to be, so proud you were angels, so much more than everything
Hope for the last time, it'd slip away quietly
open my eyes but I never see anything.
If I'd only I thought of the right words, I could have held on to your heart
If I'd only I thought of the right words, I wouldnt be breaking apart...
All my pictures of you
Looking so long at these pictures of you, I'd never hold onto your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true, but always just breaking apart.
My pictures of you
There is nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to never feel breaking apart
All my pictures of you
song performed by by Lit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writers block
At times I say to my pen
write dear pen
and scribble or scratch,
but whatever you do
write down words
and make sweet poetry
out of them.
But the pen lies silent
as if it’s ink is dry,
like a broken violin
that cannot play anymore.
So I go to my thoughts
and say think dear man
and dream and sing,
but I have forgotten everything
and every hymn
that I use to know
is gone out of my memory
as if it never was there.
So I try to dream
and to see pictures
of scenes of how
the words in the poems
should be,
but they grow stretching
away from me.
So I talk to my Muse
and no Muse answers me,
but when I pray
a thunderstorm flashes past
and words comes gliding down
like drops onto a thirsty soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Thought It Took A Little Time (But Today I Fell In Love)
(m. masser/p. sawyer)
Am I really hard to please ?
Perhaps I have such special needs
I wondered what was wrong with me
My friends all fall so easily
But today I fell in love with someone I hardly know
Did I make myself imagine that he could love me so ?
cause the feeling was so unexpected
I could hardly keep myself collected
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
Never did believe in lovin on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
All I know is now its gotta be right
In the midst of conversation he looked into my eyes
And all through the conversation
Much to my own surprise
Half the words he said to me were missin
cause my mind was so intend on kissin
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
Never did believe in lovin on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
All I know is now its gotta be right
Am I really hard to please ?
Perhaps I have such special needs
I wondered what was wrong with me
My friends all fall so easily
But today I fell in love with someone I hardly know
Did I make myself imagine that he could love me so ?
And the feelin was so deep inside me
I could feel it when he brushed beside me
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
Never did believe in lovin on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin
All I know is now its gotta be right
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Thought It Took A Little Time
(m. masser/p. sawyer)
Am i really hard to please ?
Perhaps i have such special needs
I wondered what was wrong with me
My friends all fall so easily
But today i fell in love with someone i hardly know
Did i make myself imagine that he could love me so ?
'cause the feeling was so unexpected
I could hardly keep myself collected
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
Never did believe in lovin' on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
All i know is now it's gotta be right
In the midst of conversation he looked into my eyes
And all through the conversation
Much to my own surprise
Half the words he said to me were missin'
'cause my mind was so intend on kissin'
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
Never did believe in lovin' on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
All i know is now it's gotta be right
Am i really hard to please ?
Perhaps i have such special needs
I wondered what was wrong with me
My friends all fall so easily
But today i fell in love with someone i hardly know
Did i make myself imagine that he could love me so ?
And the feelin' was so deep inside me
I could feel it when he brushed beside me
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
Never did believe in lovin' on sight
I thought it took a little time to learn about lovin'
All i know is now it's gotta be right
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Ashamed Of Being Ashamed
Some Frenchmen are ashamed of being French,
while others are ashamed that those who are ashamed aren’t proud;
though nowadays it’s hard to be a mensch,
it’s harder to oppose opinions of the madding crowd,
as well as those espoused by the elite,
which turns a blind eye to the problems of identity,
opining that a nation should backbeat
traditions and become an obsolete nonentity.
Devorah Lauter writes an article about French identity politics in the LA Times, December 14,2009 (“As the French debate their identity, some recoil”) . The allusion to the Swiss minaret poll brings to mind my poem “Swiss Minarets, ” which Huffpo chose not to put on its blog. Lauter writes:
It was one of a series of government-run public debates aimed at defining the values that constitute French national identity. But in this middle-class suburb west of Paris, the discussion last week quickly turned into a cacophony of hot-tempered accusations. Rather than give his version of what it means to be French, an invited speaker, historian Jean-Yves Mollier, attacked his host (who sat stone-still a few feet in front of him) for supporting the national dialogue. Mollier said the ongoing debates represent none other than Vichy-style propaganda attempting to 'stigmatize' those who don't fall into France's ruling native caste, in this case mostly French Muslims of immigrant origin. Mollier and several other attendees proceeded to walk out. Meanwhile, two actors disguised as avid participants launched into a faux back-and-forth. 'Today, I'm ashamed of being French! ' said one of the men, standing up to be heard. The other, jumping to his feet, replied, 'Excuse me, but I'm proud of being French, and you, you should be ashamed of being proud of being ashamed of France! ' 'It's a shame for France! ' shouted back the first. 'I'm proud of the shame I feel for people like you who are ashamed of being French! ' cried the second. In the crowd, one middle-aged man's face turned the color of his pink shirt. He termed the scene 'disgraceful.' Host Anne Boquet, the local police chief, expressed her hope that the dialogue would 'remind people of their Republican values and to respect authority.'
'The debates can introduce that respect, ' she said, and help 'define the face of France we like today.' That, it seems, may be a long way off. The 3-month-long national debate series, spearheaded by conservative President Nicolas Sarkozy and his minister of immigration, has been the subject of heated controversy since a late November vote in Switzerland to ban the construction of minarets on mosques. Sympathy for the Swiss vote here, according to polls, has helped focus the debates, which began in November, on widely held demands that Muslims do more to blend into French society. Polls show that a small majority in France favor a ban on minarets like the one the Swiss approved with a 57.5% majority.
12/14/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stretch Out And Wait
On the high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
It's the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(i really don't know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(i really don't know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, i don't know
What i do know is we're here and it's now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When there's no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crisis
Be-wigged and gowned, the Speaker frowned,
And his frown was ill to see.
'Oddsfish!' he spake, 'Do I mistake?
Stands 'And' where 'Or' should be?
Be such the case, this land's disgrace
Shall shame our House no more.
Gadzooks, and by my halidame!
Call members hence, so our fair name
Be purged and shriven of ill-fame
And 'And' give place to 'Or'!'
From divers nooks, with guilty looks,
The mumbling members came;
With wimpering wails they gnawed their nails
And slunk in snivelling shame;
From party rooms, as from dank tombs,
From crypt and corridor.
The Speaker boomed, with beetling brow:
Yours was the sin! And, here and now,
I bid ye kneel and make the vow
To change yon 'And' to 'Or'!'
They bore the Mace from its resting place
In the dungeon 'neath the stairs;
Silk-breeched, but game, the Speaker came
And set the carven chairs.
Then the great Black Rod, at the Speaker's nod,
Waved o'er them as they swore
By this and that, by book and bell,
That one and all, what e'er befell
Would take the vow, and keep it well;
To change the 'And' to 'Or'.
Now in his place, with chastened face,
The Premier rose and spoke.
They harked to him in silence grim
While tears they strove to choke.
With trembling hand he seized that 'And'
And cast it thro' the door.
And now, amid subdued applause,
The brave upholder of our laws,
Square in it's place withn the clause
Enthroned the rightful 'Or'.
Sighs of relief replaced their grief
As members breathed short prayers.
They bore the Mace to its resting place
In the dungeon 'neath the stairs.
Honor to these, our bold M.P.'s!
All patriots to the core!
With bated breath the tale unfold
To your son's sons when you grow old.
Their fame uphold ... The cost, all told,
Was twelve pounds, eight and four!
And we poor hacks who yield the tax
Should we not be content
With these whose task was to unmask
That word malevolent?
Alas, who knows what weary woes
Might have best us sore
Had not that adamantine band
Upheld the honor of their land
By plucking out the craft 'And,'
And substituting 'Or?'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constable
Crafty copper
Moments arrested
Portraits in custody
Come along there
Broken cart
You need a stay
In my oily cell
Up to prison London
You shall go
At owners pleasure
To rest and consider
Your pretty crimes
Prisoners tour Paris
So well behaved
A gold medal royal
Gains John
As is his dew
Up to London
Constable finds
A necessary means
To make prudent friends
But fortunate are we
For his real
Pastures, views and
Sublime scenes
Remain on the loose
In Constable country
No grammar school for them
No mercantile father
But free
For you
And me
poem by Jason Palmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Push
Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Push (hey) ((push up on it))
(good God)
Push - lord (push, yeah) ((push up on it))
Every time u get some
People wanna take it back
They rather see u on the run
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock
Every time they try 2 clock u
Tick more than they tock
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down, yeah
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old
Push
Dont stop until u go
Did u ever stop 2 wonder
Why u put another down?
No man should asunder
The joy that another man found
Maybe bout the business u was worried
Wasnt ever filed in your name
Maybe the cartridge u was playin
Dont fit in your video game
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old, yeah
Push
Dont stop until u go, hey
(alright) I push (push) ((push up on it))
(push) I push (push, push, hey)
(push) (come on and push it now, hey push)
((push up on it)) (push) I push
Every time u get some push
People wanna take it back p-push
They rather see u on the run push
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock push
Every time they try 2 clock u push
U gotta tick more than they can tock
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground (higher)
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old, yeah
Push
Dont stop until u go
(no, dont) (push) I push
(push) I push
(push) I push
(push) I push
Did u ever stop 2 wonder (did u ever stop 2 wonder) (push)
Yeah - Im a-push up on it... (push)
(push)
(push, push)
(tony...) yo?
(get on the mike...) Im a push up on it (get on the microphone)
(tony...) yo?
(get on the mike...) yeah - Im a push up on it (get on the mike)
(tony...) yo?
(get on the mike...) slow down - Im a push up on it
(get on the mike...) (get on the mike)
(get on the mike...)
I push for a beat that is greasy
Ill dis a beat if it teases
Mark this down as I state it...
I like my funk concentrated
The pop seem, hmmm, a little overrated
U sure can tell where were steppin
Theres some grease on the stage
Ooops, I just stepped in it... (push)
Circlin as we slide
The full stride for the ride
On a watered-down tip
We could never get by (push)
Fellas... (get on the mike)
Check it out, heres what u gotta do (push)
Gotta step in the room with the mood
Never juicin yourself,
Just a confident attitude (push)
Believe me, u will get busy
Your mouthll drop open
[as u watch the slimmies funkin] (push)
But u dont want the one whos jockin
Cause its all about the clockin (push)
Step 1, step off 2 the dance floor (push up on it)
There ya go, yall, yeah (push)
(1...eno... 1,2,3) (push, push, push)
Push up on it (get on the mike, woman)
(prince...) (get on the mike) push up on it
(get on the mike)
(prince...)
U dont want me on the mike push up on it
(get on the mike)
No man, u dont want me on the mike (dont stop until u go)
(get on the mike) push up on it
(push)
Its thunder when Im on the mike (push) I push
Daddy pops in the house
And ure sure 2 like his diamonds (push) I push
Sure 2 like his pearls
Im good 2 cream every boy and girl
Cuz Im a stollin,
Steady hip-hop rockin rollin (push)
A willing and able horny pony
And Im pumpin em, Im pumpin em, (push)
Im pump-pump-pump-pump-pumpin em
From pakistan 2 poland (push)
Straight into your town
Snatchin up kiddies (get on the mike)
Like a circus clown (get on the mike)
(push)
(get on the microphone)
Well, all u people out there, (push)
Ud better be ware
Cuz they call me rosie g
And I just dont care (push)
I like 2 step, all night long
Rappin, hiphopin, and pushin this song
The song gets higher and it sets u on fire (push)
Like the lion in the jungle (get on the mike)
It takes you all higher (push)
My momma said girl, u know it aint cool, (get on ...)
Said ya dont wanna play by nobodys rules
I said momma chill out, (push)
And give me a break, cause
I know I got just what it takes (push)
I said momma dont put me under pressure (get on, get on ...)
I love u and I think ure fresher - push (push)
Everybody here we go, come on now,
A-push if ya wanna push
A-come on, a-come on, a-come, a-come p-p-push it, push (push)
(push it) (push)
(push it) (push)
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I am outta here!
Upon the lower country,
That combines the sea and sand.
Freedom fights for justice,
In this redundant land.
The cities are the mob war scenes,
The country town's a joke.
And every time I see that dumb smurf, Rudd,
I hope that he will choke.
For lies and lies are building,
And the swirls of mighty dust.
Always make my throat seize up,
I think its Cairns or bust.
Its boiling in the summer,
And freezing in the cold.
Why can't this place make up it's mind,
Why cant it ever fold?
So I guess that I will wait a bit,
Deal with it for a moment more.
Unless when the storms run in,
I wind up on the floor.
So farewell sunburnt country,
Farewell to the scorching day.
I'll see you when I come to terms with life,
And reach the USA.
poem by Stuart Logan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And I'm outta here!
Upon the lower country,
That combines the sea and sand.
Freedom fights for justice,
In this redundant land.
The cities are the mob war scenes,
The country town's a joke.
And every time I see that dumb smurf, Rudd,
I hope that he will choke.
For lies and lies are building,
And the swirls of mighty dust.
Always make my throat seize up,
I think its Cairns or bust.
Its boiling in the summer,
And freezing in the cold.
Why can't this place make up it's mind,
Why cant it ever fold?
So I guess that I will wait a bit,
Deal with it for a moment more.
Unless when the storms run in,
I wind up on the floor.
So farewell sunburnt country,
Farewell to the scorching day.
I'll see you when you come to terms with life,
And reach the USA.
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darwin's Fish
Darwin had a fish named Very Brighte
‘Twas marked with spots of orange amongst the white
Such a fine example of selective breed'n
'Twould be a shame to see him eat'n.
Charles D., taught this very special fish
To take a walk on a contrivance; called a leash.
On days when weather was good and fair
Brighte was released from his leather snare.
Under trees so green and supple, the two
Frolicked, as only friends could do.
One day they took a different path
As they were deep in thought, discussing math.
They approached a glen so inviting
The fish dictating, Darwin writing.
There in the cooling shade,
A brook's babbling sound was made.
‘Memberances of times in distant past
Thru his brain the pictures flashed.
Caused him (the fish, not Darwin)
To leap right in.
‘Twas here, the poor fish did discover
A truth known to father, mother, sister, brother.
Pollywogs, as well, have found it's true,
One cannot go home to waters, blue.
As he sank into the deep,
Poor Darwin's fish began to weep.
Sink or Swim, he did remember.
But forgot all else, that day in September.
Perhaps he forgot how to swim and drowned.
Yet his body was never found.
But Darwin was convinced that it was evolution,
That brough Brighte's life to its conclusion.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Chased Me...To the Exit
Discuss what and why?
You have won all of our debates.
You found a way to negate my point of view.
You chased me to the exit...
With a gleam in your eye that shouted conquer.
Discuss what and why?
Reasons I did not say once you had lied?
Or hinted you are a conniving monster?
I agreed to the debate!
On your terms.
I have nothing to learn from it!
Even though I now observe you did.
And look at you...
Less full of yourself.
With eyes sliding into a victimization.
Are you exposing your latest work-in-progress?
But there is no audience here to hear it.
Approve or declare it as official.
Isn't that what you want?
A declaration of my defeat?
No matter how it is done?
Or...
Have you come to give me 'permission'
To decide and select the topic,
For our next forum?
Or...
Have you come to acknowledge,
Any decision you may make...
Will still see you publicly hang.
And you think I am up to that kind of retribution?
I will not be around to see that done to you.
Remember...
I agreed to the debate!
On your terms.
I have nothing to learn from it!
Even though I now observe you did.
And look at you...
Less full of yourself.
With eyes sliding into a victimization.
Are you exposing your latest work-in-progress?
Believing I would want to even the score?
With those tears falling from your eyes...
You wish I could accept are yours?
Discuss what and why?
You have won all of our debates.
You found a way to negate my point of view.
You chased me...
To the exit,
With a gleam in your eye that shouted conquer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Humane
There is only one animal
And let us speak plain'
Where the word humane
Has no domain.
A horse that is lame
After a fall
Will be put down
In no time at all.
Wildlife rescued from a fire
Half cooked, dying from the blaze
Will be released without debate
By mercy's needled fate.
An old companion animal totters
Prolonged with drugs and care
Until it is decided when
Its suffering we can no longer bare.
Could we not ask our suffering
Do you want exit from the pain
To be released with love and dignity
By the mercy and grace of the word humane?
poem by Danny Draper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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