En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To My Brother Poet, Seeking Peace

People wish to be settled. Only as long as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
-- Thoreau

My life has been
the instrument
for a mouth
I have never seen,
breathing wind
which comes
from I know not
where,
arranging and changing
my moods,
so as to make
an opening
for his voice.

Or hers.
Muse, White Goddess
mother with invisible
milk,
androgynous god
in whose grip
I struggle,
turning this way and that,
believing that I chart
my life,
my loves,
when in fact
it is she, he,
who charts them--
all for the sake
of some
as yet unwritten poem.

Twisting in the wind,
twisting like a pirate
dangling in a cage
from a high seawall,
the wind whips
through my bones
making an instrument,
my back a xylophone,
my sex a triangle
chiming,
my lips stretched tight
as drumskins,

I no longer care
who is playing me,
but fear
makes the hairs
stand up
on the backs
of my hands
when I think
that she may stop.

And yet I long
for peace
as fervently as you do--
the sweet connubial bliss
that admits no
turbulence,
the settled life
that defeats poetry,
the hearth before which
children play--
not poets' children,
ragtag, neurotic, demon-ridden,
but the apple-cheeked children
of the bourgeoisie.

My daughter dreams
of peace
as I do:
marriage, proper house,
proper husband,
nourishing dreamless
sex,
love like a hot toddy,
or an apple pie.

But the muse
has other plans
for me
and you.

Puppet mistress,
dangling us
on this dark proscenium,
pulling our strings,
blowing us
toward Cornwall,
toward Venice, toward Delphi,
toward some lurching
counterpane,
a tent upheld
by one throbbing
blood-drenched pole--
her pen, her pencil,
the monolith
we worship,
underneath
the gleaming moon.

poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twisting

She set your goldfish free
And now shes sighing
Blew out your pilot light
And made a wish
She doesnt have to have
Her dbs record back now
But theres not a lot of things
That shell take back
(she wants) she wants to see you again
(she wants) she wants to see you again
Slowly twisting (twisting)
In the wind (twisting)
Twisting twisting (twisting)
In the wind
Shes not your satellite
She doesnt miss you
So turn off your smoke machine
And marshall stack
She doesnt have to have
Her young fresh fellows tape back now
But theres not a lot of things
That shell take back
(she wants) she wants to see you again
(she wants) she wants to see you again
Slowly twisting (twisting)
In the wind (twisting)
Twisting twisting (twisting)
In the wind
(she wants) she wants to see you again
(she wants) she wants to see you again
Slowly twisting (twisting)
In the wind (twisting)
Twisting twisting (twisting)
In the wind

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Dove

Music :presser, adamis, rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
A place without a name
Under a burning sky
Theres no milk and honey here
In the land of god
Someone holds a sign
It says we are human, too
And while the sun goes down
The world goes by
White dove
Fly with the wind
Take our hope under your wings
For the world to know
That hope will not die
Where the children cry
Waves, big like a house
Theyre stranded on a piece of wood
To leave it all behind
To start again
But instead of a new life
All they find is a door thats closed
And they keep looking for
A place called hope
White dove
Fly with the wind
Take our hope under your wings
For the world to know
That hope will not die
Where the children cry
Na na
Na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na
Na na na na
Na na na na na
Can anyone tell me why (can anyone tell me why)
The children of the world (the children of the world)
Have to pay the price (pay another price)
And now your telling me
Youve seen it all before
I know thats right but still
It breaks my heart
Well, the golden lamb we sent
Makes us feel better now
But you know its just a drop
In a sea of tears
White dove
Fly with the wind
Take our hope under your wings
For the world to know
That hope will not die
Where the children cry
White dove
Fly with the wind
Take our hope under your wings
For the world to know
That hope will not die
Where the children cry
Na na
Na na na na
Na na na na na na na na
Na na
Na na na na
Na na na na na
...

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So long, too long!

So long, too long!
Back in the days and back in time;
Struggling from the roots of Africa to identify myself;
But, born in 1961! !

So long, too long!
From yesterday with my muse of love;
And like today with the problems of the earth,
But, is this the future? ! !

The African story,
The African struggle,
The African muse,
The African experience,
The African hardships,
With the hustle and bustle to identify myself to the status of this world;
But, i am still moving on without giving up! !
For, nobody knows tomorrow.

So long, too long!
But, all the fingers are not equal;
And like the movements of the snail and tortoise,
However, i will surely reach there when you also do get there.

This life,
This muse,
This continent,
This mind,
This writer and his story! !
But, it has taken me so long, too long!

This is my life,
This is my muse,
This is my mind,
This is myact,
And, i am now presenting my love to you;
But, it has taken me so long, too long!

1961,
Born in Africa;
Yes, from 1961 to the present time! !
Struggling to make ends meet;
And, like the life seen in the slums of Africa!
But, it has taken me so long, too long! !

Africa, Africa, Africa, Africa! ! !
The land of my birth and my homeland;
But, i am still finding my way through the dark forest to represent myself to the world,
With hopes and dreams every now ansd then without giving up!
But, it has taken me so long, too long! !

Back in the days,
Oh yes! ! And, like the days of yesterday gone by;
But today, you can read my lines to know who i am!
And like the muse of sweet love in the land of peace,
But, it has taken me so long, too long!

This is it,
This is me,
That is it,
That is my muse,
Here i am and, this is my mind! !
With the sweet love from my heart brewed in the African Pot;
Touching the minds of many and, ready to educate others,
But, it has taken me so long, too long!

Come and enter into my world so sweet with your love,
Come and taste the muse of my love with your mind,
And like the aroma of sweet love from the bed of roses;
Where, the delight of love is crowned with peace and care,
But, this journey on this earth started from my mother's womb.

Oh yes! ! in the land of Africa to represent my muse;
Out of the womb of my mother to cry out to the world! !
And like the tears of love in the land of beautiful flowers,
However, it has taken me so long, too long!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wholeheartedly

Wholeheartedly, old, yowl, drew, tree, three, hate, lad;
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh;
That it may be well with you,
And that, you may live long on this earth.

Wholeheartedly, whole, hole, woe, where, he, rate, lead;
With instructions in the land of your muse,
But try to be very obedient to all!

Wholeheartedly, heart, dear, read, red, ear, year, ware;
With peace and love in the land of joy!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.

Wholeheartedly, are, weed, wed, late, date, wear, doll;
With songs of love and works of peace,
But, try to be very obedient to all in this life.

Wholeheartedly, hold, told, wheat, war, raw, draw;
And like the muse of your love in the land of the living!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.

Wholeheartedly, hoe, heat, het, her, had, head, well, led;
And like your works as seen by all!
But, try to be very obedient to the people around you.

Wholeheartedly, lay, ray, tray, day, at, deer, reed, tear;
And like the joy of your muse with others at home! !
But children, try to obey your parents.

Wholeheartedly, heed, heard, world, word, rod, era, rode;
With the muse of the world and the works of your love,
But try to obey others in the land of your muse.

Wholeheartedly, toe, doe, do, to, hare, here, thread, art, thee;
Learn from the right people always to motivate yourselves!
For life is full of laws which are needed by all of us.

Wholeheartedly, yard, hew, threw, low, rat, yell, tar, how?
And like the sweet songs of the lovely birds up high! !
But children, try to obey your parents.

Instruction,
Entreaty,
Boldly,
Obligation;
Children, obey your parents!
And, honour your father and your mother.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Voice On The Wind

I

She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

II

Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

III

She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

IV

Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

V

'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. And Mrs. James Akpan

I was seen by the eyes when i was around you people!
And like the days ahead of the sun to satisfy the muse of mankind;
But, the new moon of green ears of barley came in! !
And, it was with joy all over in the land of beautiful flowers.

Old habits are very hard to break!
But, this muse of yesterday now rigisters itself once againt today;
For your love introduced my muse to you,
But, what is man that you care so much about him?

Your words have encouraged those who stumbled,
Your love has now touched the hearts of many! !
And, your peace is very much known to us all;
However, i really came in to help your children.

Managements are really yours! !
But, to Mount Zion i will rejoice with the muse of my success;
And like the very words of Mrs. Akpan to me when i took up the contract,
But today, i am what i am because, i never went overboard!

What is life after all?
Whaz is love after all?
What is care after all?
What is peace after all?
What is untiy after all?
For, i really took your children like my own brothers and sisters;
And today, the benefits of my teachings had really made them great!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Are (My Children)

standing in line at the mission,
they're ladeling bowls of steaming soup.
the winter wind whips down
between the buildings like a knife...
pulling tattered coats tight hunching.
and i can hear Shantideva whisper,
his hand on the ladel...
his body the meat of the soup,
his blood the broth...
'these are my children! '....

they walk in long staggered lines,
refugees from the bombing...
hungry scared children clinging,
afarid to lose sight of...
what's left of their families.
nothing behind, and nowhere to go,
not on any side...
and i can hear Jesus whisper,
His life the torch that lights the way,
His body the shelter against the night,
His blood the water, His hands stir the rice...
'these are My children! '....

the addict shivers, strung out and desperate...
the homeless family huddles in the car.
the young prisoner sleepless with the fear,
the old man going hungry feeds his bedridden wife...
the jobless young father begs to pick up trash...
and i know beyond all doubt,
my body, my soul, my spirit...
the wind that hears their cry.
'for these are my children! '...

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Child

The Wind has a voice,
A sad, sweet voice
I've heard it sing
Long and beautiful
Like Wind should be,
Carrying forever

The singing Wind is rarely heard
It's quiet and soft and
Unnoticeable

I am a Wind Child
I hear the Wind as
She sings her sad, sweet song
I am a Wind Child
And I sing with the Wind
Wind Children are rare as
True Hope
Special as Love
Wind Child
Is me

poem by Sahar Alive
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This Is My Poem

This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.

This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.

This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.

This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.

This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.

This is my poem of open-ended freedom.

This is my poem breathing life into motion.

This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.

And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..

poem by Patti Masterman
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Click On 'Poets

When you enter,
Click on 'Poets' and then,
Type in my full name: 'Edward Kofi Louis';
There and then, it will open automatically to my page! !
And, you can read my poems.

Sage, page, cage, rage, mage, marriage, wage;
From time to time!
But not like a runaway dog in the land of your muse;
For, the cat is always in your room.

Fine, dine, wine, vine, cine, sine, line, pine, mine, nine, shine;
Inperfect health,
On to perfection! !
But, it has been a while hearing from you.

Of the miracles of my life,
Of the joy of my muse,
Of the peace of my mind,
And like the muse of your sweet love!
But, not like a runaway dog in the land of your muse.

In the heat,
In the cold,
And like the candlelight of your love!
But click on 'Poets' to find my sweet muse;
For, i do have a message for you.

We are all over there,
Poets of the world! !
But, it has been a very long time hearing from you;
Vender, finder, blender, winder, lender, mender, tender, sender!
And like the muse of love in the land of peace,
But, be my guest at this page.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only The Wind

(tennant/lowe)
----------------
Its only the wind blowing litter all around
Just a little wind and the trees are falling down
Theres nobody crying, that was yesterday
Inside were all smiling, everythings okay
Its only the wind blowing cans along the street
Someones dustbin lid playing havoc with the peace
Theres nobody hiding behind a locked door
And no ones been lying, cause we dont lie any more
Its only the wind, how it takes you by surprise
Suddenly begins, then before you know it dies
My hands are not shaking, I dont touch a drop
You must be mistaken, I know when to stop
When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out
Its only the wind, they say its getting worse
The trouble that it brings haunts us like a curse
My nerves are all jangled, but Im pulling through
I hope I can handle what I have to do
When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out
A storm blows itself out...
Im sorry

song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indary

Bless these children and,
Teach them the positive ways of life only;
For, i am Indary with the works of peace.

I need joy where i am,
I need peace where i am,
I need love where i am,
I need unity where i am,
For, i am Indary with the works of peace.

The romance of love,
The joy of peace,
The muse of life,
The peace of the mind,
The care of passion,
And like your beauty in the land of care! !
But, try to teach these children to do the right thing always.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs To Aging Children Come

Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knitted Well

The quality of this poem is knitted well!
Flow, low, below, blow, slow, cow, row;
Because,100 over 100 equals to 1.
The texture of this poem is knitted well!
Well, fell, bell, tell, hell, sell, cell, dell;
For we now see what is going on in Syria! !

War, tar, bar, star, car, gar, far, jar, mar, par;
With tangible images and tangible reasons,
And like a phenomenal man and a phenomenal woman!
But this war is killing many.

Clove, glove, prove, hove, strove, wove, stove;
And, what a nice poem that it is!
For, it is in it if,
It is with the muse of love!
And like the tender words of your muse,
But we now know what is going on in Syria.

100 over 100 is equal to 1!
But the poetry of life is always arouns us;
For the theme of this poem is fantastic! !
Bow, glow, how, vow, wow, grow, know;
And like the sweet muse of love.

Mow, now, sow, tow, throw, crow, show;
And like a nice image,
Shell, yell, jell, ell, quell, tell;
With its mystical muse like the melody of your music!
But the bombs are destroying everything.

Love, dove, drove, rove, shove, cove, grove;
With this superb peom to satisfy your muse,
But the poetry of life is always around us!
And we should find peace on earth always through this poetic life.

Sweet scent of freedom!
And like the modern songs in the land of your muse,
Because,100 over 100 equals to 1;
And this poem is knitted well,
But the poor moon weeps in the land of your muse because of this war!

When will these bombs stop falling on them? !
For the rich moon laughs in another land and,
The poor moon weeps in the land of Syria;
And the bombs are falling on them from every angle!
But, i do hope for peace in your land as well.

The philosopher,
Your choices,
The lessons,
Your actions,
And like my people being punished because of this war!
For, the mortal beings are now becoming immortal;
And, there are no graves to bury many of them.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Could Be The Wind

I want to be the wind blowing in forest playing their own song.
I want to be the wind bringing smiles for farmers.
I want to be the wind bringing rain, helping fireman in his hardest time.
I want to be the wind assisting plant to expand their kingdom.
I want to be the wind smoothly blowing over the sea and bringing fisherman home safely.
I want to be the wind covering the thing which ought to be left in past.
I want to be the wind clearing the mind of those with agony
I want to be the wind blowing in summer and tending to those without shelter.
I want to be the wind which bring happiness to the children taking their kite high up in the sky.
I want to be the wind removing clouds of torment and allowing sun to lay down its vital warmth.
I want to be the wind which remove thorn from path and help people to move forward.
I want to be the wind helping bird to take their first flight.
I want to be the wind which leaves versifier rapt giving him his divine words
I want to be the wind blowing all over place bringing happiness to people and vanishes stealthily, unnoticed.
I WANT TO BE THE WIND…

poem by Parth Gwari
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This Changing World

This changing world...
where children hear
not only the voice of their mother
where children eat
not only the food that their mother cooked
where children sing
not only the songs of their native tongue
where children no longer play
with butterflies outdoor...

We need to be more stronger
more wiser
more confident
more understanding
more loving
more caring
and more connected
to one another
to make this changing world
a better place to live
for our children.

poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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The Inaugurul atmosphere

How nice when all the doors & windows opened in the White House on this particular day?
Let the swift wind blows from all over the world and you could stand straight,
Please do not let them to take you away.
The wind gives an impression of the street children of the peculiar world and your precious children may ask questions from you.
The first Lady's innocent smile would be a comfort to the families of war victims.
This turning point should join along the World peace path
And let brothers walk as brothers towards Humanism.
Please leave a question mark to ruthless wars
And if possible make a pension scheme to the shamefaced warmongers.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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1983

The real struggle started in 1983,
And i know what i have been through so far;
Because life is not very smooth always.
Fear and anger,
Love and war!
And of the death-toll in the human race to ponder over,
But life is all about peace than war.
Humanised by the military forces,
And of my years in the bush;
But now i am back home to my roots,
And this struggle started in 1983.
Life was like the creative powers of the problems at hand,
But your love has no hiding place when it is time for war!
And like the mysterious murders around me.
I am trying to get to you,
But the wind of change had taken me so long! !
And there is no retrospect on this muse,
But i live to write out my mind.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kill The Evil

It’s a beautiful land
It’s a home for many
Many lived with peace
Lived with unity and love
With smiles on each face

Children play with its mud
Farms dance with its soil
Rivers flow on its bed
Flowers glow all around
Nature loves that land

Life is very simple there
Children go to school
Men and Women work
Old ones enjoy life
People lived happily

People pray in church
People pray in mosque
People pray as they wish
It has different beliefs
But all are united

Its unity is questioned
Questioned by an evil
Its name is ‘WAR’
It bombed that land
And killed everything

Destroyed homes of many
Many lived in fear
Many cried in pain
In pain of lost ones
Taken away by evil

Some can’t kick football
Some can’t write proper
Some tears can’t run down
Many got wounded
Wounded by the evil

Schools got bombed
Books got burned
Playground in silent
Kids didn’t grow up
Evil axed even tulips

Farms caught fire
Fruits weren’t picked
Rivers flowed red
Water wasn’t tasted
Evil ruined the nature

Church bells stopped ringing
Mosque no longer stands
Culture no longer rejoiced
Beautiful land is ragged
In the hands of evil

Evil, who’s name is WAR
Its only aim is blood
Blood of many innocent lives
Life is the gift of god
God’s message is peace and love

So let’s spread his message
And kill this evil forever
And free this world forever
Forever from its bloody hands
Into the hands of peace forever

poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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Summer

Rabbits hopping around the glossy meadow
Children playing on their swing set
The dog playing with the cat on the patio
My husband cooking up a barbeque
Makes my mouth water with hunger

Eating dinnner by the camp fire
Hearing the children talk about their day
I give my husband a kiss for making a great meal
The children heading to bed
While my husband and I are still sitting by the fire holding hands

poem by Bethany Williams
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