Melancholy Of Jason Kleander, Poet In Kommagini, A.D. 595
The aging of my body and my beauty
is a wound from a merciless knife.
I’m not resigned to it at all.
I turn to you, Art of Poetry,
because you have a kind of knowledge about drugs:
attempts to numb the pain, in Imagination and Language.
It is wound from a merciless knife.
Bring your drugs, Art of Poetry—
they numb the wound at least for a little while.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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(Forgiveness Poem) An Open Battle Field
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Controlling the masses
Just bow down.
And take it in the rear.
Watch as you lose another one you hold so dear.
Falling off the radar.
Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Is this where the poor live?
How long do you think you can survive?
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The world is committing suicide.
Everyone just swallow your pride.
If you expect the help from others.
You got to give all you have give.
Lord in my heart let me forgive.
No matter my hated enemy.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
It is a forced occurrence.
Not as we want but as we must.
The rules of greed.
In heaven I concede.
Their can't be this hierarchy.
Ruled under one thumb.
The gloom of this darkness.
Follow the leader.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The teachers, or the preachers?
How do we view one another.
Painting another pretty rainbow.
The colors of the perfected flaws.
Lets put everything on pause.
Just look at us.
Divided by nothing.
Yet communication is non existent.
With every second the meaning is yet to met.
Dire consequences.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Grabbing the gun and knife.
Preparing to defends ones life.
All because we can't share.
Like little children we fight our wars.
With equality being important above all else.
Death to this diluted common practice.
Lets just be as we are.
Deny the skies all you want.
Their still there.
Hovering in the air.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
I'm already gone.
In a higher place.
In a world disapproving.
To my conclusion.
But I don't even care.
I don't believe in fair.
I expect to receive the worst.
Cause in this life we have been cursed.
But it is the only way we can learn.
With the heart it has to be earned.
With all that is good I'm concerned.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
We are men that have the ability to find choice.
With this we should rejoice.
But instead we try to remove it and the responsibility of it.
Should I be angry?
Should I be mad?
Should I try to destroy other men?
With hope I pray that I can be forgiven.
Evil is the intent.
The world is trying to circumvent.
Shortcuts to the end.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A knife-wound heals, but a tongue-wound festers.
A knife wound heals; a wound caused by words does not.
A knife-wound heals, but a tongue wound festers.
Unsung Hands
How can you unsee an etched wound?
The name will tell the moon.
An empty sky now calls for
the rains.
What was it-
the ceremonial farewell?
A dependable pain now starts
pulling out the sharpnels from the body.
You may call it
meaningless. My poem now
moves between the stings. Somebody
was going for a merciless kill.
poem by Satish Verma
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Flesh Wound
We flew over miles of ocean--be prepared.
I don't have the faintest notion who'll be there.
You underestimated; nobody sympathized.
I think you'll soon feel better once we get inside.
I see the door is open -- Why don't we walk right in?
Let's put our party hats on and let the fun begin!
We should have called and said that we were on our way;
Who would have ever guessed that you'd be so unreachable?
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in my side
Just another flesh wound--another wonder-cure that you tried
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide
Just another flesh wound--another irritation you abide
You know the rumour's going that he was synthesized.
And if we had to dress, I wouldn't be surprised.
I say -- you're so outrageous -- you'll go to number one!
They'll have us both arrested for having too much fun.
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--another bruise on your pride.
Just another flesh wound--another paranoia that you hide.
And when she held her nose, she took an underdose.
It was nice to see her completely comatose.
You go first, you're completely debonair;
Let's go dutch -- it's only fair.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--a minor injury you dignified.
Just another flesh wound--another unsuccessful suicide.
Just another flesh wound--another curse that you ride.
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Ache
My aching head is numb now from the pain,
The wound of blood and brain, a creature.
Nature is triumphant on my bed,
Underneath this object is a utility.
Cushions and pillows and sheets are spent,
All for the sake of the one in the bed.
It is like a bed of roses, or a bedroom of plants,
Ones that linger with their smell,
And dreams never die, the dreams are not dying.
My aching head, my poor head, it lies on the bed
With a sore wound that no one can reset.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Wound
Wound was
Very clear
But they
Wanted
For dressing
Safty;
Only for
Beauty
The wound was
In the body
On the face....! ! !
With sumall
Axedent...? ? ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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My reason's why poetry is never devilish,
My reasons why poetry is never devilish,
My reason is that poetry made me realise knowledge of Imagination,
It is from the pleasure that express Human emotions,
If Man is from God then poetry is from man,
A man is a Spiritual being,
Existing with Infinite Knowledge,
Poetry is not supporting felonies,
Either way the great Prophet's recognised poetry,
Poetry can take away Indifference,
Create a spiritual man into Beauty of the soul,
My reason is that felonies is worser than writing a poem,
Fornication and gossip is much distinguished from Angelic Realm,
I think that Poetry hast better explanation,
In a World that is very Shallow in Spiritual Knowledge.
poem by Abdul Karim
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Wound
a wound will always
be a wound.
a scar may come
to say you are healed
but soon it will
remember the wound.
perhaps you have not
loved enough
to learn from those
whose hearts
are broken, they
say: forgive and forget.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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Nucleus
How can you take away the nucleus
and expect everything outside of it
to stay mended together with strength?
A family is held together by a bandage.
You take away the bandage and you got a wound.
Sometimes a wound can heal on its own
and sometimes it can get infected or never heal.
I've seen it all before, the bandages go away
and then the wound that is left attacks itself.
The skin, the blood, the puss, and all the cells
that were once held together by one bandage
turn on itself and then it all melts as if touched by acid.
I don't think that will happen to our wound.
I think we'll all band together and form a new bandage.
It might not be one person holding it all together,
but it will be all of us coming together
like hospital staff to make sure we don't die of an infection.
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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We Are All On Drugs
When you're out with your friends
In your new Mercedes-Benz
And you're on drugs
And you show up late for school
'Cause you think you're really cool
When you're on drugs
And you put on your headphones
And you step into the zone
When you're on drugs
But the world don't care
If you are not there
'Cause you're on drugs
GIVE IT TO ME
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)
And you twitch in your seat
'Cause you wanna hit the street
When you're on drugs
And you cause such a fuss
'Cause there's no one you can trust
When you're on drugs
And the best of your days
Will vanish into haze
When you're on drugs
And you wish you can quit
'Cause you're really sick of it
But you're on drugs
GIVE IT TO ME
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)
I wanna confiscate your drugs
I don't think I can get enough
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unhealed Wound
Sometimes we don’t realize that we have been hurt
Until the bruise comes out and turns blue
Until the wound closed and leaves scar
Until the pain numb and still unhealed
Until what hidden scratched again and bleed more
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Poetry has done this to me
And I love the slavery of poetry
For reasons like your better
versification
Or for reasons you shall not
live to see
To me poetry is this huge magnificent
instrument
And poetry has kept me indoors all
day I missed you
And poetry has kept me in front of
this machine
And saved me maybe from the bullet
or the knife
And poetry has taken me to explore
the deepest
Unknown regions of my mind
Never was the search
Of the word so desperate and
pleasurable and so
Hurtful and so exciting and so painful
And poetry has alarmed me to how
cruel my mind is
And poetry has journeyed into my
inner self too to cleanse my soul
And poetry has gone out of her way
to show me
How kind and filled with honey my mind is
I have journeyed to far flung places
guided by
The love of poetry I know myself better now
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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A Crazed Girl
THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,
Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.
No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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“Faithful Trust”
There’s nothing to offer to those ignoble vows
But a long wail of dejection if this heart allows
Trust has come to open the wound
Averment carries no word for word
The misguided mind has become the guard
Trust has come to open the wound
A solemn promise’s been made to none
With faithlessness it is believed to have gone
Trust has come to open the wound
The wound that's trapped into bleeding emotion
To heal the pain it drinks the potion
Then trust has gone with its faithful notion
And everything fades with that true devotion.
(23rd of October,2010)
poem by Munia Khan
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Impromptu
Keep away from sharp swords
Don't go near a lovely woman.
A sharp sword too close will wound your hand;
Woman's beauty too close will wound your life!
The danger of the road is not in the distance;
Ten yards is far enough to break a wheel.
The peril of love is not in loving too often;
A single evening can leave its wound in the soul.
poem by Meng Chiao
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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You give me pain
You give me pain
You give me pain when you think that drugs are cool
you give me pain
I have no pain because i want to be drug free like you
should be too
Drugs are bad it gives you pain just thinking it cool
I have no pain because I dont do drugs like you do
You have pain because you brought something in your life
that is hard to get hel for it
Your parent have pain seeing you do drugs and you think
it soo cool but its not it wasting your life what don't you
understand drugs are not cool if you dont do it you will have
no pain
if you do drugs you will be loosing you family, friends, Boyfriend/girlfriend
because you give them pain to
poem by Kirby Segan
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