Lucio
He took the axe and cut off a bough of a tree,
But men are often forced to seek help from the very ones they despise;
For this world if full of troubles.
Where is the shrine of the harlot who was beside the road of Enaim?
For the women waited and satisfied their men!
But you've now become a laughing stock among others.
You need a young goat to pay for your harlotry,
And like a strong tower in the city of gardens;
But your name is called Lucio and you are still a youth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Women
Women...
Some budy
Called flower...
Some budy
Called moon...
Some budy
Called Brandy...
Somebudy
Called hourse...
Some budy
Called donkey...
Some budy
Called basterd...
Some calling
Some of word's
Women with women's...
This words are
Not full fill
The women...
World wide
Women is beauty...
Women is sexy...
Thats thats...
But...
Women is what...?
Not only women
Women is your mother...
Women is your sister...
Women is your wife...
Women is doughter...
Women is your gran mother...
Women is your friend...
Not only above...
Women is a human...
Human is women...
Understand too
All women's...
With your heart...
At your humunity...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Explanation Of An Antique Gem
A YOUNG fig-tree its form lifts high
Within a beauteous garden;
And see, a goat is sitting by.
As if he were its warden.
But oh, Quirites, how one errs!
The tree is guarded badly;
For round the other side there whirrs
And hums a beetle madly.
The hero with his well-mail'd coat
Nibbles the branches tall so;
A mighty longing feels the goat
Gently to climb up also.
And so, my friends, ere long ye see
The tree all leafless standing;
It looks a type of misery,
Help of the gods demanding.
Then listen, ye ingenuous youth,
Who hold wise saws respected:
From he-goat and from beetles-tooth
A tree should be protected!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Chicago
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
faces of women and children I have seen the marks
of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on
job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the
little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning
as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with
white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young
man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has
never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse,
and under his ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of
Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog
Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Youth
Mood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Eagle-like must seek the blue,
Dauntlessly its course pursue,
All the mountain-heights must view.
Blood of youth,
Blood of youth,
Steam-like puts full-speed to sea,
E'en though storm and ice there be,
Makes its way and romps in glee.
Dream of youth,
Dream of youth,
Rogue-like stealing sets its snare
In the maiden's morning-prayer;
All the springtime, fragrant, glowing,
In its airy waves is flowing.
Joy of youth,
Joy of youth,
Waterfall-like foams in truth,
Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing,
Even while to death 't is dashing.
Joy of youth,
Dream of youth,
Blood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Clothe the world with colors golden,
Singing songs that never olden.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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what I see...
when i look in the mirror
what do i see?
see a young women trying to find the right path
a young women trying to do whats best for us
the daughter that was never planned but yet brought so much happiness.
u can tell the girl standing in front of the mirror has been through so much
so much it made her the person who she is today...
a strong hearted women who can get through anything if she put her all into it.
but behind that strong women, is a women who isn't as strong as she thought.
a women who quits when things get ruff,
a women who is afraid of change,
afraid of doing the wrong things
afraid of losing the ones that mean the most
when i look into the mirror,
what do i see?
see a young women who is willing to do whats right.
willing to take that next step
willing to start the future over and have a new begining.
see a young women
who is finally letting the past not get the best of her
and moving forward.
-tiffany
poem by Tiffany Carter
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A Tower Name
The Lord’s name
Power name
A tower name
A strong name
And power-tower name
A strong tower, the name
A safe place, the name
Good in every situation, the name
Has unmatched power, the name
And a place of fortification, the name
When spiritually attacked, to the name run
When the past foibles clouds the mind, to the name run
When disappointed, to the name run
When failure cripples in, to the name run
And when tempted, to the name run
In the name, security
In the name, safety
In the name, peace
In the name, strong power
And in the name, a strong tower
A strong tower, strong refuge
A strong tower, stout defense
A strong tower, powerful protection
A strong tower, shield from the past
And a strong tower, enemy at bay to put
Whatever enemy offensive, call the name
Like Joseph, make a dash to the name
So portable, so wherever, the tower name
A refuge from doubt, selfishness, malice
And a shelter from slenderness, loneliness, envy and the like
So as the devil launches attack
A run to the tower name make
Call upon the power name
Stay in the power-tower
And watch him, sulking away
The Bible assures us: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe” (Prov.18: 10, KJV) .
poem by Obed Akuma
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Careless Philosopher's Soliloquy
I rise when I please, when I please I lie down,
Nor seek, what I care not a rush for, renown;
The rattle called wealth I have learnt to despise,
Nor aim to be either important or wise.
Let women & children & children-like men
Pursue the false trollop the world has called fame.
Who just as enjoyed, is instantly flown
And leaves disappointment, the hag, in her room.
If the world is content not to stand in my way
The world may jog on both by night and by day
Unimpeded by me - not a straw will I put
Where a dear fellow-creature uplifteth its foot.
While my conscience upbraids not, I'll rise and lye down,
Nor envy a monarch His cares and His crown.
poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What for? If only the goat can tell.
O! The silly goat could have been a dove
White and meek
Soundless in the journey to air
Dove to another dove
Satisfied from among its likes
The horns could have been feathers
In a bird’s body
Another completing dove could have waited
Only if the silly goat knew
The transfiguration of its feet to claw
Its whiskers to beak
The goat’s life would have been complete
And fulfilled
But this the silly goat will never know
& learn and untie
& solve the crazy knot
That it has never untangled
Never has he learned from all the ages
Of his grass life
The seeds that the dove peck
And keep on its throat down to its guts
Its tummy
The goat stays
In the open field
Preoccupied with grass
And grass alone
Abiding by the rules of his master
Imprisoned in its cage
To the rules of their games
Suffering
But never understands the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Youth Is Splendour
Young bore young when in small age,
Though my time coincided with my life’s battling
And my praiseworthy feat was destroyed.
Young people bitterly reject, utterly in loss
Of the world at large, their bellies ache from slaughtering
The elder lot and sharing food, this may ache.
Yet youth forbade the old, the aged, strict, loving and kind,
Having laughter and so much to despise.
We should be young who are mindful of age,
Let us love oneself as well, just when young hearts describe
Themselves in the deep world.
The youth is splendid, the older periods of life are a consequence
Of splendour.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Character of Youth
I can scarcely tell the character of youth,
Nature is young with fruit, it ripens many times;
Full of fever, young men and women define
The basis for their lives, the ones that value us.
Judgment is infinitely better when minds are sane,
You can plod for hours working miracles,
But youth shall never arrive, forming tennis and sport.
Isn’t the face so wild with glory?
Isn’t the old age with us?
What is more than youth when charity bellows?
My young trance travels to dislike the danger
Attributed to life as we perceive it,
The data corrupts on the mind, it fails.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Just a load of silly limericks about people I know
I know young lady called Dee
Who lived in a bubblegum tree
She savoured the view
Whilst big bubbles she blew
And she only came down for her tea.
I know I young lady called Carolyn
Who said she was gonna go travelling
She afforded the lot
By a pay out she got
When her ex got impaled by a javelin.
There once was a poet called Ben
Who couldn't let go of his pen
He had a 'to do'
With some strong super glue
And it's been stuck there ever since then.
There once was a young Mr bright
Who wanted his farts to ignite
When he lighted the match
His fart just wouldn't catch
Coz the pants he had on were too tight!
I know a young lady called Laurie
Who burped after eating a curry
By god it was loud
And for this she was proud
Then she giggled and said she was sorry!
There once was a young man called Will
Who found it quite hard to sit still
He did not sit down once
No not even for lunch
It eventually made him quite ill
I know a lady called Karen
Who hired a group of hit men
She payed a few bob
For this one special job
And her ex was not spotted again
I know a girl called Nicola
Who craved for a day at a spar
She wanted shellac
And a rub of her back
But thought waxing was going too far
poem by Stevie Taite
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Love Make Me Strong
(terry britten/sue shifrin)
Theres no power capable of
Coming between us--dividing our love
To be faithful I have sworn
Together we can weather the storm
Our tomorrows are ticking away
Our hands are tied--were victims of fate
In my darkness I will pray
For destiny to send me your way
Love make me strong
Give me the strength to carry on
Love make me strong
A tower of strength to lean upon
Love make me strong
The seven seas wont keep us apart
Not with an ocean of love in my heart
My devotion will see me through
Cause nothings gonna keep me from you
Love make me strong
Give me the strength to carry on
Love make me strong
A tower of strength to lean upon
Love make me strong
Oh its a sad sad story
True lovers forced to part
Shot down in all its glory
Youll hear the sound of broken hearts
My devotion will see me through
Cause nothings gonna keep me from you
Love make me strong
Give me the strength to carry on
Love make me strong
A tower of strength to lean upon
Love make me strong
Oh oh love make me strong
Love make me strong, make me strong
Love make me strong
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It’s called the inner city
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Thin walls no privacy
Big yard, living in close proximity
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Adults sit around
Getting shot and maim
Children run around
Oblivious
Playing their games
In the filth that flows untamed
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
How hard I try not to run with the pack
But against me the cards were stack
They need protection they need someone
But you can’t protect them with empty hand
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
Poverty, amidst luxury
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Political connections, fearless and strong
Dispensing justice with an even hand
Truth be told, I am a ladies’ man
So naturally they call me the “Don”
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city, no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Now on death row
Soon, I’ll go
I am guilty?
No one will know
The script is written and sing like a song
They used, refused and then they kill the “Don”
In the inner city
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
poem by Ikhalfani Solan
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The Loving Tree
Three women walked upon a road,
And the first said airily,
“Of all the trees in all the world
Which is the loving tree?”
The second said, “My eyes have seen
No tree that is not fair;
But the Orange tree is the sweetest tree,
The loving blood is there.”
And the third said, “In the green time
I knew a loving tree
That gave a drink of the blood-red milk,
It was the Mulberry.”
Then the first one said, “Of all the trees
No sweetest can I name;
Ask her who yonder slowly comes—
That woman lean and lame.”
Grief like a hideous suckling hung
Along her hollow breast,
Pain was upon her as she walked,
And as she stooped to rest.
“Why will you question so?” she said,
“Is it to mock at me?
For how should I, who walk in Hell,
Know of a loving tree?
“My eyes are not as woman's eyes,
They hope not east or west:
Dull Famine my bed-mate is,
And Loneliness my guest.
“ 'Tis not the most delicious flower
That leaves the scent of Spring,
Nor is it yet the brightest bird
That loads his heart to sing.
“A tree may dance in the white weather
Or dream in a blue gown,
A tree may sing as a sweetheart
To bid the stars come down:
“Some trees are slim and lovable
And some are sleek and strong,
But the tree that has the cripple's heart
Will know the cripple's song.
“The sweetest death is the red death
That comes up nakedly,
And the tree that has the foiled heart
It is the loving tree.
“While ever lip shall seek for lip,
While ever light shall fall,
The tree that has the ruined heart
Is tenderest of all.
“Oh, ye may have your men to kiss,
And children warm to hold,
But the heart that had the hottest love
Was never yet consoled.”
The women three walked on their way,
Their shamed eyes could see
How well the tree with the foiled heart
Is still the loving tree.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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The Road To Success isn’t As The Crow Flies
The road to success is not as the crow flies
There are derailments and breakdowns
Speed breakers are called uncertainty
Humps are called hurdles of life
Neon signs are called friends to guide you
And consciousness is called Family make you aware of
But if you have a spare wheel called willpower,
A strong engine called firmness,
Car insurance called confidence, and
A car driving skill is called Faith,
I m sure you will drive your car successfully
Towards the road of success
poem by Dr Shamim ali
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My City, My Town
My city, my town
The day u were birthed
No one regretted
My City
The glory of both the young and old
a site for everyone to behold
My city
A place of great edifices
a town with wonderful places
Four and two-legged machines
Fills this land unconditionally
A place of constant influx
Beautiful lush green grass
Filled the lawns at every corner
Bridges everywhere
as long as monumental caterpillars
Masts of every network
as tall as the Eiffel Tower of Paris,
A total amazement..
My city,
A beauty to uphold,
Now a story yet untold
My city, oh my town
You are losing your luster,
colour and radiance
That made humans of all race
want to advance, to seek solace
My city, My town
The land that brought memories
of neighborliness,
Everyone, together as of same parents
Awake from your slumber
Oh my great city, 'The Garden-City'
The crown princess of Rivers state
Why do you constantly hibernate?
Wake up
My city, my town,
Be like David,
Defeat this Goliath called GREED!
Show your feat
and make this enemy face the heat.
Edwina Aleme, (c) 2009
poem by Edwina Aleme
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A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Pub Face- Loneliness
Pub Face -loneliness took his seat by the bar
Having forced himself through a hysterical mass
Of delerious, but serious
Women and men
Proffesionals
At the heart of the City
Now giggly google eyed
And child like adolescents
Stomping around handbags
Shifting in time to pub music
On a loop
Drinks flying across saloon bars
Taking their pills
with a shot glass and cigars
Big talk
And facebook
'Ambitions for fame'
And the jeering echoes at 'Pub face's'lonely request,
'Can I have the same again! '
It wasn't as if he was asking for the world
Or for a Face on a book or a quick little 'Twitter'
Maybe that's why they were laughing
'A lack of ambition, of apps and application, he's just jealous and bitter! '
His only real crime was his loneliness and not being on time! but
nobody was listening
'How could anyone be lonely? in a world FULL OF FACEBOOK! '
poem by Yvette Smith
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I'm Not Satisfied
It's hard - can't afford to stop
Keep on working - till you're fit to drop
Then comes the weekend and my troubles go away
Monday morning brings them back again
No, no, no I'm not satisfied
Can't there be - more to life
I can't see - reasons why
Going steady - have been a while
Ain't ready - not by a mile
I try to tell her that I'm not he marrying kind
She tells me she's gonna change my mind
No, no, no I'm not satisfied
Can't there be - more to life
I can't see - reasons why
I want a place to go
I could go - leave these streets alone
Everywhere you go now is just misery
There's no hope living in this city
No, no, no I'm not satisfied
Can't there be - more to life
I can't see - reasons why
song performed by by Fine Young Cannibals
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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