The Way It Is (Aphorism)
Freedom can be mocked
And Memories, forgotten
Love can be unlocked
But Death takes all of men.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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True Love Takes Time
This song was first released on the one world album. it is the only album it has been released on.
As I travel down the road and search the empty sky
Waiting for the moment when my eyes will see
Many are the memories the mysteries of time
How they dance around and whisper endlessly
Yes Ive travelled down this road before
Where so many men have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that love takes time
It seemed impossible that I could care again
So it seemed I had forgotten how to give
What is this miracle that brings me back my dreams
All at once I can remember how to live
Yes Ive travelled down this road before
Where so many men have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
I have been too much alone for oh so many years
Looking for someone to sing with me
Sweet harmony
My heart is open now and tender to the touch
But there is love enough to heal me in your hands
Ill give you all my nights
All my sun and rainy days
Ill give you all the time it takes to understand
Weve travelled down this road before
Where so many fools have come and gone
But you know it takes time
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
And its so very hard to find
(true love takes time)
You know that true love takes time
(true love takes time)
(true love takes time)
(true love takes time)
Words by dik dernell and john denver, music by dik dernell
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Carve for Freedom….From Chaos
Somethings are silently forgotten
With aging and distance driven
Somethings are hardly forgotten
Besides the storms and sharpens
Few people live in you for ever
Though you are never together
Few places loved by you for ever
Though you will never go for sure
Seldom a song is sung for all
The memories of childhood mall
Seldom a palate is filled for all
With the relishes of the past befall
Never thought that I am still alive
Unless I went back to the shore
Where I once happily lived and swayed
Marking that I am just still alive
Having lost every emotion of life
And suffered so much as a wife
My tolerance knew no bounds
But to silently cry within my heart
I have everything for a decent life
But not the one I really wanted
Every minute of the city is driven
Be it on road, for food or for sleep
Everything is controlled beyond me
Which I hate to be a part of thee
All I cherished is the freedom to live
Freedom to sleep, freedom to work
Freedom to speech, freedom to love
Now no freedom, to even breathe…..
poem by Umasree Raghunath
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God Has Mocked At Us
GOD HAS MOCKED AT US
God has mocked at us -
Made us so great to ourselves
Made us the center of our worlds
Made us feel as if we are what truly matters-
God has mocked at us -
And taught us how small we really are-
Has made us know the paradox-
Of our being central only to ourselves –
God has mocked at us and exalted us
And enabled us to attribute to God
Our own reservations about ourselves-
God has mocked at us
Do we in mocking ourselves mock God also?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Memories
Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories
Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories
Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories
Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories
Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours
Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too
Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories
poem by Adam McKim
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Absolute Freedom
Freedom from within
Freedom to think beyond universe
Freedom from living up to other ideas or expectations
Freedom to stand against all odds
Freedom from gods will
Freedom from triumph and disaster
Freedom from democracy and aristocracy
Freedom from scams and scandals
Freedom from caste, creed and color
Freedom from meaning less dogma
Freedom from fear and hatred
Freedom from life and death
poem by Sunnieyd Inquilab
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I'd Rather
If it takes never talking
Never walking
With you again
To keep us friends
I'd rather do that
If it means you never coming back
To never see you react
I'd rather do that
If it takes to love and not hate
Or to never see you as a mistake
I'd rather do that
If it takes me feeling
Like I am destoryed
Or me feeling like
You take me as a play toy
I'd rather do that
If it takes to never receive a phone call
Or to never hear you voice ever
I'd rather do that
If it takes my memories
Of us hurting each other
I'd rather do that
If it takes me thinking
Of our love as make believe
Whatever it takes to succeed
You are no longer what
I need
Things wasn't all bad
And I want to hold on
To that
So I don't want you back
So if that what it takes
To hold on to some good
Than I rather do that
poem by Tameeka Smith
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Extension 33
Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And What About Freedom?
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from long bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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352
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms
still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did You Say That Your Only Freedom From Pain Is Death?
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms
still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I would rather Freedom
I would rather a much better place,
A place of sanity,
Far away from the phantoms of ghostly shadows,
Far away from the phantasmagoria of knives and death,
Far away for the chocking disgudting stench,
of sweat and feces,
of contaminated air,
of blood,
of diseases and death
I would rather a place of decency,
And that place is freedom,
Oh Freedom! freedom,
Freedom for the scaring stare of my cellmate,
Freedom from the brutal touch of the guard,
Freedom from the hardwork for no pay!
I would rather freedom,
I am going to freedom, To my people,
To make love to my woman,
To give love to my children,
To eat the food that's got some taste,
And bath in clean cold water,
And I will not mock them,
I will let them know my side of the story,
And I hope this time the wheel of justice will not spin in favour of those who have money and land,
Not even those who know the judge,
But justice in truth and FREEDOM!
poem by Olunga Otieno
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Love Revelation
Ive been quiet, never spoke before
About this
Takes a little time to say what
Im thinking
Lets run down the concept of love
As we know it
Im only happy when Im flying
Then you catch me when Im falling
Freedom what you want
Freedom what I miss
I think about you
I realize
Love revelation
Freedom what you want
Freedom what I choose
What about you?
I realize
Love revelation
Hey, lets sit down and talk it over
cos I dont want a ride from
Paradise to pain
Aint no way I could love you more
Still need that open door
Its so good when Im flying
Will you catch me when Im falling?
Freedom what you want
Freedom what I miss
I think about you
I realize
Love revelation
Freedom what you want
Freedom what I choose
What about you?
I realize
Love revelation
Freedom what you want
Freedom what I miss
I think about you
I realize
Love revelation
Freedom what you want
Freedom what Id do
What about you?
I realize
Love revelation
My life - shouldnt be hard to live
You know what my weakness is
Make me a little bit stronger
cos I cant do it without you
Though Im happy when Im flying
Baby, catch me when Im falli
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chronicles of A New Day part 1 5 years from now
5 years from now forgotten
maybe after so much time
out of the cage out of the pen
no longer trapped by word and rhyme
childish infatuations all but forgotten all gone away
no more saying this day how fey!
only today
here we... w...
at this time i ask how
could i get to this here and now where memories fade
where debts are paid
love songs forgotten away with the wind
now blowing blowing forgotten feeling blowing farther
is this my future?
poem by David Knox
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A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(Angry Poem) Angry Are Your Children Of Forgotten Memories
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
Needs become greed.
To succeed you must move past what has became another loss.
Hypnotic is a pipe dream
in which your will is fact.
It's a written contract.
Be there when it counts most.
So close
Yet so far away.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
What have you created
what have you instigated.
With a sickle in your hand
you swing at me.
Full force
full impact
lack of discretion
another life lesson.
Trust no one you don't really know.
Unless your ready to let go.
Being released from it all.
A hunters knife cuts the rope.
A hammer smashes the chains.
Nothing is ever in vain.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
A cut so clean.
The wound that continuously bleeds.
No matter pressure put on it.
My leukemia destroys all immunities.
Metaphorically speaking
metaphorically preaching.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
Destiny does not wait or ask you how you want it.
It just goes
flows threw all our veins.
Even with the the greatest change.
We still are powerless over it.
We continuously fight it
deny it
but only a fool can not see whats right in front of them.
It is what we have become right or wrong
It's who we are.
As much as we choose it.
We still have no control over it.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
You say this is it,
then must have always been it.
From the beginning.
It's written in invisible ink.
Some fortunes can't be told
They have to be lived.
One day I'll understand what the draw was
but at this time
It's nothing but angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I think of other ages that floated upon the stream of life and love and death and are forgotten, and I feel the freedom of passing away.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Freedom From Love.........................
Freedom to love again.
Freedom to try love again without thinking
about the past.
Freedom to think without worry.
Freedom to dance to my
new found love..
Freedom to feel the touch of another man
heart and soul.
Freedom to forget the past.
Freedom to cry without any sorrow......
Freedom to walk with out trials and
trubulations...
Freedom to be along and think
in peace.
Freedom to start a new life feel with love
again...
Thank you for freedom......................
poem by Jessica Mason
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True Freedom
Freedom imitated,
Can never be a freedom...
Manifested to appreciate.
It would be underrated sooner or later.
With a taste for it to ultimately fade.
Not analyzed is a freedom to connive.
Or diminished in masquerade...
For purposes to degrade its meaning.
Freedom has to be at one's own pace.
To know what it takes to keep it salivated.
Freedom is not minimized.
True freedom is always maximized,
To realize its value.
And never is it in a race to chase,
To regulate another's fate.
True freedom is never ruled to control.
True freedom is a flowing one has,
And knows...
Freedom,
For what it is and felt!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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