The Stolen Breath
If you take a breath
Without a purpose behind it
You have stolen something
That can never be replaced
poem by David Kush
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Talking Book
I wish I had a talking book
That told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
To past and present memories
A talking book that said your name
So if you were gone, youd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
In imagination I could touch
A talking, talking book
I wish I had a talking book
Filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
Your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs
How much Id bluster to ask it why
One must live and one must die
I wish I had a talking book
By my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
Much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
Is that so much to really ask
In this one moments time and space
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Put Out To Graze In The Pasture
Hey
The only thing you can truly say
Is that you 'once' ran a good race
And now that you've aged
And have been replaced
Why put that blame on the jockey?
That jockey is accustomed
To riding on the backs of winners.
And you have fed that purpose.
No matter what spotlight you believe,
You today deserve.
Your purpose has been served.
Get over it.
You've been put out to graze in the pasture.
Whatever you had has been used.
And like the rest,
Who have taken their lives for granted
Your purpose,
Has
Been served!
With or without your consent or lost investment,
You spent at the service of others.
Graze and shut the
Just shut up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fairy Song
We the fairies blithe and antic,
Of Dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us,
Stolen sweets are always sweeter;
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels;
Stolen, stolen be your apples.
When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time to go orchard robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling
Were it not for stealing, stealing.
poem by Thomas Randolph
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Song of Fairies Robbing an Orchard
We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.
When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing.
poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Signs Of Life
When the child like view of the world went, nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...
I do not like being asked to.....i do not like being asked to... I do not like being asked to....
Other people replaced it
Someone who knows
(instrumental)
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sign Of Life
When the child like view of the world went, nothing replaced it...
nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...
I do not like being asked to.....I do not like being asked to...
I do not like being asked to....
Other people replaced it
Someone who knows
(Instrumental)
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Signs Of Spring
The Western Meadowlark
Gone
Replaced with herbicide, fungicide, insecticide and a gas-powered 'Popper' to keep the birds and geese away
Flowers
Gone
Replaced with pavers, concrete and outdoor barbecue grills
Family Farms
Gone
Replaced with huge, multi-owner conglomerates and global positioning satellites to keep the rows straight
Hometown Baseball Teams
Gone
Replaced with co-ops, bussing and poor, retired farmers driving busses to supplement their retirement income
Small Towns
Gone
Replaced with convenience stores along 4-lane highways and signs saying how many miles to the next Wal-mart and all the goods 'Made in China'
The US?
poem by Merle Steinmann
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Stolen
Let truth be told
Until its sold
Silence is golden
Too bad its all been stolen
Stolen! stolen! stolen!
Our defense is your defense
Your defense in some sense
Some sensless way unfolded
Folded cause its all been stolen
Stolen! stolen! stolen!
The gilded scale was burning
Just as your back was turning
Just as our trust was leaving
Youd have us all believing
These truths we hold
Self-evident
Bought and sold
The more you hunt the more I sing
Then quickly rewrite everything
Truth returns bloated, swollen
Then dissapears - its been stolen!
Stolen!
The gilded scale was burning
Just as your back was turning
Just as our trust was leaving
Youd have us all believing
These truths we hold
Self-evident
Bought and sold
Its all been stolen! [x2]
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ringmasters Word
I have a purpose...
Take your dill knife, stab me, go, strike my heart...(ha ha, ha ha...ha ha, ha ha )
I have a purpose...
Such things cant exist...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them...
I have a purpose...
Quietly, I will come over your bed,
I will lean over and gently bite your neck...
Ringmaster...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them
song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desire is not dispensed with
Objects clung to, are replaced.
Clinging continues.
Women lusted for, are replaced.
Lusting continues.
Loved and hated are replaced.
Love and hate stays.
Objects only change, not the urge.
05.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Life
Our life is but a mist-
A fast runner in a breath of time-
'Tis a wisp of smoke only temporary...
As transient as yesterdays rhyme;
Our life is just a mere shadow-
For we are here for but a moment more...
We are all strangers-just pilgrims- on a brief journey-
An Earth traveler whos entered through Gods Door;
Its in this brief existance that we find our purpose-
At last-before our moment 'tis but done...
Living and doing Gods purpose for Him-
Successfully completed when final breath-is at last with The Son;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Namelessly
my gaze is lovely
to love it is rooted
it is shy, it gazes when
the beloved is not looking
it is always
unfulfilled, it is always as sad
as a shy look, a stolen glimpse
of the face of my only god
something stupid
really
i do not fear it
i do not touch it
it is as lovely as desire
an inch away from those lips
breath inside a breath
namelessly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Purpose of Living
The master of purpose does not
respect certificate or degree;
He only respect people
with purpose in life.
Purpose is the gate fee
to success land.
Purpose is your direction.
Purpose is an objective in life,
dream, and what you are here for.
You cannot move on in life
until you have discovered
your objectives in life,
which is your purpose of living.
poem by Franca Kenneth
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Chaos, Order, Chaos, Beauty And Ugliness...
beauty must a purpose
have, for instance beauty that
gives peace and
harmony to the world,
presumably this world is a world of chaos,
and chaos is wanton
and understood to be messy and
undesirable, makes the mind
to lack the necessary focus
but what is focus for? what is thinking for?
again, you return to purpose
focus must have a purpose
and thinking must have another purpose
but what is the purpose of purpose?
seems that purpose is beauty
and that purpose without beauty is not desirable,
and so on and so forth,
people get so confused, they want order as though order itself is
beauty
as though it is one purpose that we need,
the universe must have an order
a system, every planet orbiting around the sun must have
a purpose
as though they are human beings like us
as though they are us
look at this poem, read it so well,
it has no purpose but to make you think
make you doubt
that perhaps beauty to be beauty must be wanton
and chaotic, which by itself is a reality
and reality is always
beautiful,
it has always a purpose and this is what you think it to be
right now, but is this really so?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I replaced Walsh, I replaced Blackmore, now I just gotta be me.
quote by Tommy Bolin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Security
Mind it
What I am stating
Is for security purpose.
Theives are there
And all our belongings
Are being stolen.
Question of recovery
Does not arise.
We could not see
We could not hear
Anything and only
The guard is calling
Through whistle.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sad Country
Sad and made of copper
The symbol we are wed,
Even our comedies
End a little sadly….
Our joyful neighbors
Wear their infernal
Hirsute fur coats….
And that only… banal
Are our mangy bears
With prey trembling
In blood-covered lips.
For what purpose, when dreams betray,
That words brim over with delusions?
For what purpose, on a forgotten grave,
Grass grows greener and emits a noise?
For what purpose these lunar heights,
If my garden is silent and dark?
And the tails of her plaits are untied,
And I hear their breath... for what?
poem by Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky
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Christmas Cards
Every christmas card I write
Every christmas card I write
Has been stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Has been stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write
On the little desk in the corner of my room
I find stolen the next day
I find stolen the next day
All of the christmas cards I write
Become stolen the next day
From my room
In my little desk in the corner of my room
Every christmas card I write
Is stolen
Is stolen
Every christmas card I write
Been stolen
From the little desk in the corner of my room
Its been stolen
Every day
Every christmas card I write
Has been stolen from my desk
I dont know why
Its been stolen
Its been stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Quality
Short lived,
Are bogus moments stolen.
And a spotlight gained,
Under false pretense...
To obtain attention.
What remains throughout scrutiny,
Is that which comes stripped and bare...
To reveal its true face unmasqueraded.
And although the act of it is rare,
It is forever remembered...
For having a uniqueness that is bold.
And a true quality that may be copied...
But an originality effective can never be replaced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Find It. Your Purpose
Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.
It is difficult to be oneself,
And declare oneself to 'be'.
It is much easier to locate acceptance,
When approval from others...
Does not threaten,
A routine enjoyed with unchanged beliefs.
Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.
And once it is recognized...
Be prepared to be criticized.
Be prepared to be humble too...
When a strength felt opens your eyes.
But never be apologetic,
For those steps you make.
Moving forward has been known,
To cause many heartache.
But find it,
You must...
Your purpose.
And trust that it is...
Your purpose!
And...
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Once it has been discovered,
Your purpose...
Will open and broaden your mind.
Finding one's purpose,
Does this every time!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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