31st May
31st May,31st May,31st May!
How can i narrate this story?
My wife came home with tears all over her face! !
Oh 31st May;
Her Doctor had disturbed her womb.
Her face was totally red like fire!
With more blood coming out of her;
But who fells it knows it all.
We were expecting our first born baby,
But life at times is never understood;
And my tears are within me.
You cannot see it on my eyes because,
My mind is high reason up!
Worried but with much hope.
31st May,
Comfused but with a vision and this mission;
But, there is time for everything.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
~62~
As my 62nd birthday approaches...
I will again be celebrating my 31st.
With familiar gratitude.
And with God's hopeful blessing.
'You'll be 62!
Not 31.
Get real! '
I look at it this way...
When I arrived at 60?
I felt as if I had won a championship.
With some wonderful memories.
And being with both my parents...
When their separate deaths approached.
And thinking of them as if they were my children,
I had to protect.
To hear them say I love you...
And other things they to me confessed,
Was a divine time.
Don't get me wrong...
I'm not wishing to stop time,
Or wish to travel back into it!
I cried like a baby when I turned 31.
Call me what you wish.
But I had done my patriotic thing.
And I was in and out of the military,
Ten years 'prior' before I did this.
Married, divorced AND experienced with a profession.
And unafraid to ask or answer any question.
Yet...
31 felt as if I had lived a lifetime.
Until I became 61 and felt younger.
How?
Hey...
It was my first time at it.
However...
31 was my turning point.
That's why I celebrate it.
And with God's blessing...
It will be my 31st anniversary of finding myself.
And having the peace of mind at 62...
To say and do as I please.
Within reason.
And with God's approval!
Plus...
I can say I've earned the right to be 62.
And 'any' and every age below it!
How about you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The hall of fame ceremonies are on the 31st and 32nd of July.
quote by Ralph Kiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The amount of information that can be stored by the ultimate laptop, 10 to the 31st bits, is much higher than the 10 to the 10th bits stored on current laptops.
quote by Seth Lloyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was the dark night
It was the dark night,
the 31st of October.
Shakespeare didn’t sleep.
His thoughts were so deep.
He waited for a witch to come
to finish his drama,
to find the conception
of love deception.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Born But a Little Child
He who spoke the world into creation
He was born but a little child
With love so meek and mild
His birth brought the world a new elation
Was born to die to save all the nations
He was born but a little child
With a precious glowing smile
Was to become the church’s foundation
He was born but a little child
To reclaim the fallen world for His own
He was born but a little child
He came that true love, through Him, could be known
He was born but a little child
To take on our sins, and for them atone
((May 31st,2003))
poem by Danny Speicher
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Another Year Another Decade!
Twas an awful blow, still alive, that cold and lonely 31st Dec eve.
Soon came a sizzling day,13th Aug eve, another blow unexpectedly.
The sandy desert of KSA, laden are my two precious brothers.
With them lay our treasured memorbale days, unseen by others
The laughter, jo, y emotional feelings, shared so countless...
A family filled with purest essence, since we became fatherless
Brother, father, guardian, friend, they never ever cease to be.
Towering strength they stood by, with sincere love and dignity.
Their soothing gently voices, echoing in our ageing years.
Losing control, our twin rivers leak with over flowing tears.
A lone walk we enter in silence, the dawn of another year.
Which of us be left, to face another parting and endless falling tears!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Come and Follow Me
“The harvest is plenty, workers are few”
And He said, “Come and follow me”
“And, through me, you will help them see”
Peter was out fishing with Andrew
The brothers of thunder were fishing too
And He said, “Come and follow me”
“And fishers of men, you will be”
Then, a tax collector came into view
And He said, “Come and follow me”
No matter what you may have done before
He still says, “Come and follow me”
He calls you to a life of so much more
He cries out, “Come and follow me”
And we follow Him, for Him we adore
((May 31st,2003))
poem by Danny Speicher
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Prince Emeray Is Born On May 31st
Now there is a prince
named Emeray.
He had his birthday
in the month of May.
Yes, the last day of May
to be exact,
he was born by icewitch
who turns into a bat.
Yes, her name is Razel
who you might know,
she lives on planet Iceron
with a lot of snow.
Anyways, Emeray’s birthday
is May 31st.
He was blessed to conquer the worst.
he would become the superhero of the day,
and win over Razel with Melodie Mezoree’.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on June 1,2011
www.puppetpoems.com www.emeray.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Return
It was late at night
When he arrived at the door.
A true divine sign
We don't doubt anymore.
Far from his cosy place
Through nights of cold and rain
His return was a God's grace
Which makes us thankful again.
We felt an immense joy
Providing him water and food.
At first, his glance was so coy...
Then our kitten recovered his mood.
31st Dec.2011
poem by Maria C. Costa
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Prathibha Cauvery
To Tamil Nadu
Karnataka denied Cauvery.
To Tamil Nadu
cyclone Nilam
brought Prathibha Cauvery!
It was with Tamil Nadu
for eleven days
from 31st October 2012
regaling the people
from far and near.
Now it too has been salvaged!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Halloween.
Halloween
Eyes of green
Shine in the dark.
Swinging lights
And vampire bites.
What hides in the park?
The 31st
Expect the worst.
Broomsticks on high.
Banshees wail
Under moon so pale
As ghouls float by.
At witching hour
The blackest flower
Blooms on the streets.
The living dead
Are starved or fed
With trick or treats.
As bloodstained choir
Fresh from hell's fire
In doorways sit.
Full moonshine
Mean werewolves dine.
As pumpkin smiles are lit.
Halloween
Its spell is cast.
The spectres visitation past.
Demons unmasked
Become children again.
But who's that?
I ask,
At the window pane.
poem by Kevin East
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Writ On The Eve Of My 32nd Birthday
a slow thoughtful spontaneous poem
I am 32 years old
and finally I look my age, if not more.
Is it a good face what’s no more a boy’s face?
It seems fatter. And my hair,
it’s stopped being curly. Is my nose big?
The lips are the same.
And the eyes, ah the eyes get better all the time.
32 and no wife, no baby; no baby hurts,
but there’s lots of time.
I don’t act silly any more.
And because of it I have to hear from so-called friends:
“You’ve changed. You used to be so crazy so great.”
They are not comfortable with me when I’m serious.
Let them go to the Radio City Music Hall.
32; saw all of Europe, met millions of people;
was great for some, terrible for others.
I remember my 31st year when I cried:
“To think I may have to go another 31 years!”
I don’t feel that way this birthday.
I feel I want to be wise with white hair in a tall library
in a deep chair by a fireplace.
Another year in which I stole nothing.
8 years now and haven’t stole a thing!
I stopped stealing!
But I still lie at times,
and still am shameless yet ashamed when it comes
to asking for money.
32 years old and four hard real funny sad bad wonderful
books of poetry
—the world owes me a million dollars.
I think I had a pretty weird 32 years.
And it weren’t up to me, none of it.
No choice of two roads; if there were,
I don’t doubt I’d have chosen both.
I like to think chance had it I play the bell.
The clue, perhaps, is in my unabashed declaration:
“I’m good example there’s such a thing as called soul.”
I love poetry because it makes me love
and presents me life.
And of all the fires that die in me,
there’s one burns like the sun;
it might not make day my personal life,
my association with people,
or my behavior toward society,
but it does tell me my soul has a shadow.
poem by Gregory Corso
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Poem #065, Sonnet #25: Score
Now is the day, the boundary of July
The close of buoyancy, the end of play
Today my boyhood hums its elegye
To welcome ripeness, Lord! I’m score today.
Score… and the world is now a different place
A sober earth, a sky of gravity
I must inurn my years and wear the face
Of sapience… Ave fair Melancholy!
Score… and the word reechoes everywhere
I see it in the quiet of the thicket
I sense it in the stillness of the air
I feel it in the torpor of my spirit
Score… and my soul surrenders to the truth
I’m twenty now, farewell sweet days of youth!
Blaouza
July 31st 1989
poem by Samer Madbak
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The Riddle
I cut my life in to pieces
Of light and deeper curves
In numbers and shapes mixed within
The mystery of my own color
In this five by seven of me
A heart where mother lived
Seven years after I was born
It’s still torn and abandoned
The green valley of rice and corn
I’m 3rd and 7th of 8 grains
To see a sky above the fluffy clouds
To the land of black, yellow, and white
My “shoes-lady’s land” wasn’t my dream
To watch the Ford- Rockefeller’s ending time
Yet my fate lies onto the stripes of red and white
In the 31st of its 50 stars
Thereafter three squares tire to be abused
By economy’s worst obstructions failed
The red-lines that went too many circles
Hacked me with them in jagged edge
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Only On The 31st Of October
There are no other ways to enter.
And the exits once lit,
Seem to be cemented.
Closed as if,
Within one's fist.
And the voices inside,
Are heard.
Distant in whispers.
But no one there resides.
And I come to stand outside,
On those nights...
When the moon is full.
Just to watch the shadows pass.
And eyes glow bright,
As I stand outside...
With a fixed stare,
Wondering...
Who could possibly be in there,
Glaring from the upstairs window!
Piercing with a penetrating I feel,
Scanning me from head to toe.
Frozen...
I can not move!
Until 'it' chooses to let me go!
And the voices inside,
Are heard.
Only,
On the 31st of October!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dream Of A Better Tomorrow
This is from kolkata*1,
the city of joy.
In one side lies the Taj*2,
and the other side a homeless boy.
In one end we enjoy
31st park st.*3 night,
the other end depicts,
a survival fight.
A match of eden*4,
has a crowd of a crore.
Road beggar lying,
condition critical.
no one takes him,
to the nearby hospital.
You can't draw an end
to this evil discrimination.
well, this is the story,
of our beloved nation.
This is not hatred,
but itself a fact.
This is the hightime,
for having a pact.
Day by day
we are dividing and rule,
Year after year,
we are making us fool.
So lets make this nation,
a beautiful one.
so that everyone calls us,
'the land of uprising sun'
Now please forget our,
personal sorrow.
so that we can make,
a better tomorrow
SUBJECTS NOT MENTIONED Mar 31st,2011
Why is dying with dignity hidden as an election subject?
By the people we are compelled to elect and can’t suspect,
Why is binding referendums never mentioned out there?
I can see you now looking around saying, “What and Where? ”
Because these subjects are kept hidden by the Ottawa elites,
They want to keep their parliamentary or Senate seats,
No proportional representation instead of first-past-the-post,
Because when three candidates ran, guess who got the most?
The opposition candidates together got more votes,
Therefore more people opposed the winner’s winning quotes,
So much for democracy when the looser is allowed to win,
And proportional representation is considered a major sin.
Mar 31st 2011
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Canadian Political Changes Forbidden
Prostitution and marijuana legislation is a no,
They are mostly lawyers and how do you think they make their dough,
Therefore the system will stay the same and no changes allowed,
Without those terrible sins or changes, we all have to feel proud.
Our establishment feels secure because there's nothing we can do,
No binding referendums or recall or hullabaloo,
Not even set date or mid term elections so we wait and wait,
Maybe next year or the year or the year after that with the fourth estate.
Even the UN banned us from their Security Council place,
It looks like our politicians can't even make it to first base,
We are not even required to vote so most of us don't,
Why do we want changes and our politicians refuse and wont?
Jan 31st,2010
poem by James Bredin
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Nothing Is Allowed To Change
No propositions, referendums or judicial reviews,
Never allowed plebiscites so we never get much to choose,
Therefore less than half Canadians even bother to vote,
And our politicians tend to think this is great, as they gloat.
If politicians refuse to see problems; there’s no need to fix,
They are locked into their secret party agenda and tricks,
It is not politically correct to mention any change,
No recall or referendums will ever be arranged.
And how dare you even think outside the box,
Ideas like that might cause a political party shock,
And if you keep that up they may even close down the Internet,
Less than half Canadians vote so no one can torment.
Jan 31st,2011
poem by James Bredin
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Brothers precious bid goodbye..Firoze n Fairuf
My Precious Brothers Firoze and Fairuf bid Goodbye
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Fairuf (younger) 31st December..Firoze (older) 13th August 2009 lay to rest
As my brothers rest their head on mother earth,
Loving memories bloom of their luxurious birth.
Their days, their short years, were sadly their fate,
Yet they showered happiness a story to relate.
Bounteous love and overflowing homely joys,
Embedded with sincere feelings they did enjoy.
A smiling perfection, though to fame unknown.
Melancholy I treasure them, my knights my own.
Days of glimmering vacation out of sight
As I walk alone, with no more wondrous delights!
Create Date: Sunday, April 18,2010
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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