Every soul goes into oblivion
Time
spares nobody
Big or small
King or a pauper
Every soul
Goes into oblivion
Every name is forgotten
Remain hidden
Never to be seen
Than why fear about it?
Use immoral means!
To attain immortality
19-02-2012
198-109-02-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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A timid King
The script was given in time
It's too heavy and really a challenge.
He was chosen as the King.
He cried, and he wants to tell the Playwright
“Give me a small part in your massive drama,
As I am a born pauper.
The crown isn't fit for my head
And I am scared of the sword.
The rough shining dress tingles my soul
And I shall feint on the stage
When the curtain rises.”
But the thoroughbred horse neighs
And refuses any other King to ride on its saddle.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Nothing left behind
After death, one cannot own the things gained
But can, his children who are his copies.
To attain all wealth and the world's honour
And remain barren is nothing left behind.
10.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Small Things Bother Me
He wore dark glasses I could not see his eyes
And the mirror to his soul he did disguise
He hid from the World his personality
Without the eyes a face you only see.
Perhaps his eyes from the bright sun he shade
The main reason why dark glasses are made
And though he lives nearby him I shall never get to know
As he wears dark glasses rain or sun shine or snow.
Any acknowledgement of me he never seems to show
And we pass each other by without saying hello
Through his dark glasses into my soul he peer
And he's still a stranger though to me he lives near.
Perhaps I'm small in ways and small things get to me
But it bothers me when others eyes I cannot see
Whether their eyes be blue, brown, green or grey who can say
As the mirror to their soul behind dark glasses hidden away.
I see him often though not every day
And his eyes behind dark glasses always hidden away
The mirror of his soul is well hidden from me,
Perhaps I'm small and small things bother me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Abstract Art
I've got nothing.......
I know it's something.......
It can be anything......
It can be everything!
I saw nothing
A stroke means something.
From a pauper to a king
A faucet to a sink? ?
My friend does abstract
When I view
I have to subtract
What I see
And try not to see
What it could be
And cannot be
That is the art
of Abstract.
Aung San Suu Kyi
Your name means Liberty
Freedom and Equality
Just like Mandela, Gandhi
And Martin Luther King
Your name means Sacrifice
Hope and Respect for human dignity
You are the last hope for all Burmese
Your dedication is fit for a King.
The democratic world supports you
And loves you
You are the Queen of perseverance
You are fearless in front of malfeasance
Barbarism, brutality and ignorance
Dictatorship always fails
It is a matter of time
Patience always prevails
It is a matter of time.
The enemy is scared
The junta is afraid
Words can defeat bullets
Common sense always defeats bad shots
This is a decent way to phrase it
Bullies are brutal
Because they are immoral
And anti-democratic
Be strong and energetic.
Your name means Democracy
Justice for all and Courage
The lion's rage
Will fade away soon
Don't change your tune
You are like Mandela, Gandhi
And Martin Luther Junior
This is an encore
Keep at it, keep at it
Stay strong, stay fit.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Chronicles of Acid Part 2 Forgotten
Such a condemning word
People in herds use it all day
That is why I must say
My rhyme
Forgotten truly means so more much more
It means you've become one to abhor
It means you're not worth remembering
It means you're not worth loving
It means that you'll just fade when you die
Whether or not you do good and help your friends tie
Their ends and make them meet
With loss of memory they'll greet
You as a stranger
You who loved her
Because you're forgotten
Not remembered
Doesn't matter if you surrendered
And gave them everything, because now you're just a pen
Now you're just these words, just the memories you hold
The stories you told
Because all their memory of you
Is 'who? '
Cause now you're forgotten and that's even worse then 'Not Knowing'
poem by David Knox
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Little Wonders
Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And i don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We'll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
All of my regret
Will wash away some how
But i can not forget
The way i feel right now
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain
poem by Tiana Webb
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The King Paves The Way
If the king is corrupt,
His subjects will follow suit.
If the king is immoral,
His traders will take upper hand.
If the king listens to the queen,
He will lose mass appeal.
If the king ignores shortfalls
His welfare has no effects.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Desire
It will fade
Though it'll never be gone
Only sleeping
Behind the curtain of time
It may be forgotten
But always remain
Only hidden
To be triggered again
It should be settled down
Before turning to madness
Only now
It burns me to the core
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Once Upon A Tiime -Any Lines I Wrote Remained Hidden
ONCE UPON A TIME -ANY LINES I WROTE REMAINED HIDDEN
Once upon a time long ago
Any lines I wrote remained hidden-
No one would ever see them
Except in my dream - Posterity.
Now any line I write
Goes out to the world easily-
It will remain there
until the Internet closes it down.
For me inside
It is better that what I write appears-
But whether that appearance means anything really-
I don’t really know.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Is Your Christmas Small?
Is Christ the heart of Christmas, is God in the place He should be?
On a day that we’re shuffling gifts, is it all just about you and me?
Isn’t Christmas about a King, who came to this earth for everyone?
And peace to all He would bring, as this Ruler was God’s own Son.
This very One, who came so meek, did not remain a child so small,
For that, baby so mild and weak, would grow to be The Lord of all.
But if people think of Christ at all, it won’t be as The Lord on High,
He is still that tiny baby in a stall, and in this time, we pass Him by.
How many people, would you say, of all the families on this earth,
When they celebrate Christmas Day, look beyond that infant birth?
How many people truly understand, as you consider every nation,
That Christ came to a tiny land, to bring the world God’s Salvation.
How is it men have come so far, within this intelligent human race,
Yet in this season, men will bar, all Truth of God’s Saving Grace?
Not using this Holy time of year, to lift up God’s Christmas Truth,
While giving in to political fear, concerned only of man’s reproof.
Why was Christ born my friend, to give the merchants a holiday?
Or, was it God’s means to an end, to show all men a better way?
Christmas would be awful small, if we didn’t have hope in Christ,
Who came to earth to die for all, so all men can have eternal life.
We burned to death 100,000 Japanese civilians in Tokyo - men, women and children. LeMay recognized that what he was doing would be thought immoral if his side had lost. But what makes it immoral if you lose and not immoral if you win?
quote by Robert McNamara
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Soul
Small soul’s alone in the night
It’s small
But it’s still a soul
The tiny light
That shines in the dark
Small soul glows dim in the fight
It’s small
But it’s really a soul
Though it looks weak
It’s struggling inside
Small soul keeps attracting my heart
It’s small
But it’s a beautiful soul
It may easily disappear
But it could also grow stronger
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Forgotten Future
The forgotten future of what should have been.
It's crumbled at our feet,
gone and most certainly dead.
The mournful times I now must face.
Companionship and love without a trace.
A forgotten future that filled me with endless hope.
Now so barren and fruitless it makes me choke.
Forgotten furture where did it go?
A nuclear winter with in my black soul.
Broken hearted soul bereft.
I face this forgotten future now with death.
No other way to kill the pain.
In a forgotten future it matters not here anyway.
The forgotten future that was held so dear.
I grabed and fed for many a year.
It was my life, it was my hope.
Now it hangs me with short rope.
The end is nigh.
I need not fear,
the relief I seek is very near.
Forgotten future now grows dark.
As the memory of me will soon be marked.
poem by Michael McParland
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Divine protection?
Although we try, we can’t define the attributes of the divine
So most of us choose to accept what we are told; someone’s concept.
Is God a he? Is god a she, perhaps both simultaneously
Did God create the universe? Is curiosity our curse?
Is it right that we should fear god? I find this idea rather odd
It does not seem appropriate to live in fear the normal state.
Maybe God is a neutral source of power we can tap into
Though we are free to choose our course. Responsible for what we do
I do not know what I believe and I refuse to speculate
There’s nothing guessing will achieve I will not learn if I but wait.
Perchance we are collectively all tiny parts of one great whole
And will attain divinity, when we rejoin the over soul.
A theory you may reject and many will I must expect
alhough I say in its defence you must weigh up the evidence.
Consider what you have been taught, cast doubt on its validity
It may not be as you had thought, an absolute, a certainty.
The truth is that nobody knows. Because we aren’t intended to.
If we were wise we’d recognise some things are hidden from our eyes.
Because we could not comprehend the nature of divinity.
To suffering humanity God must remain a mystery.
17/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.co, /poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Strive
Every tide, tiny or big, has to ebb.
Yet it rises; yes, it must.
Every ripple, any size, has to die,
Yet it stirs; yes, it must.
Every soul, king or pauper, would vanish.
Yet we strive; yes, we must.
18.08.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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For Fear Of A Mistake
for fear of a little mistake in denying me the kiss
that night inside your car
as you drive us to nowhere but goodbye
i tell you and this i tell you with all the honestry from my heart
lady you drive away the most sincere love in this world
into the indifference of oblivion
it is the sweetest that you have set aside
and was forgotten
and time
wept.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Means What It Does...
‘…means what it does’.
I read: ‘God cannot be named; cannot be and cannot have,
a ‘proper noun’; God can only be approached
through verbs and adjectives.’
The eight petunias which arrived so neatly in
their cardboard box as if pretending to be a book,
are already upright, thriving, growing;
that magic petal radiance of the deepest purple-blue
so delicate, so unique, seems to fill
the space around them with a message:
this is what God sings;
this is how God grows;
this is what God does;
this is what ‘God’ means.
*
And what of the ‘soul’? Can this be named?
as God in us, how can we know it
but by verbs and adjectives;
it ‘means’ just what it does..
A meditation, deep in inner mysteries
as mind delved in itself
for hidden things yet beyond words,
beyond all self yet known to be,
interrupted by the delivery man –
I drag myself reluctantly from chair to door:
he’s met with such a glorious sunshine burst
of goodwill, gratitude…
this is what soul sings;
this is how soul grows;
this is what soul does;
this is what ‘soul’ means.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Let's Play Our Roles!
Joy makes time fly soon ever!
Grief makes time move as snail!
Love consoles to regain mood!
Between joy and grief we sail on
Same boat of life on ocean broad;
Harbours are a lot but end's one!
Seeing love and war follow rules
Not so ever as there's nothing
Fair or foul for both in the world!
Ocean of world has treasures hidden
That only wise ones know where ever
However hard all toil day and night!
Till all reach the destiny of journey all
Play their roles king or pauper ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Secret feelings
everything we had,
seem to come to the surface,
i keep quite and can't say,
everything i keep hidden,
like my feeling for you,
you seem to know me in many ways,
but, the way i feel about you,
remains hidden,
close to my heart,
where it is safe from getting rejected,
by the one person who opinion means everything,
words can't explain in detail,
of how close i am to you,
wanting to be more than friends,
but life gets in the way,
of everything we could have,
both got lovers,
but are they the right ones?
my heart is pure with you,
because of friendship that remain the same,
only makes me question more,
will our friendship turn into something more?
we been hoping for this moment,
ever since we were kids,
now that we have the chance,
will we let the opportunitity,
pass us by,
or pull throught the fear,
and be the people we always wanted to be,
in the other person life?
Copyright © 2009
10-21-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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