A Possession
The media portrays flawless perfection,
Perfection, impossible to obtain causing an outcry of objections.
"Flawed" faces, the panic of rejection,
The media dispersing its festering message, left to spread like an untreated malignance infection.
It grows and grows until it controls the way we see our complexion,
The disease garbling of the mind, causing kit-picking and dissection.
At a fresh age we are septic to ingestion,
Ingesting the toxic lie that youth can be maintained by injections,
The noxious lie creating the basis for our future obsessions,
Until that fresh mind is so shot up with bullet wounds, the mind becomes a self-inflecting weapon,
A perilous repetitive phase begins as the foul transformation transpires, a possession!
poem by Francesca Marie
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Related quotes
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 45. The baby new to earth and sky
The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that "this is I":
But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of "I," and "me,"
And finds "I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch."
So rounds he to a separate mind
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.
This use may lie in blood and breath
Which else were fruitless of their due,
Had man to learn himself anew
Beyond the second birth of Death.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Media
An exposure to media, the press
Is dangerous, an overexposure, worst damaging,
You lose an image, you lose yourself,
And people would not mind, who are you and what is your name,
how did you do it, not what did you do, and that would be the end of you,
I do not talk to media since then, it has always the last say, I shy away from an interviewer from a media coverage, from that writer
Who smiles at me, taking carefully what I am saying
On a certain legal question, only to find out,
The following day, he says what I did not really mean in that proper context,
In what I said to him and which he twisted,
I had that bad experience, and
Had not recovered for years, walking in the city,
Without my head, all to my shame and loss,
I did not mind, my deeds my fingers will speak for me
Eventually, and my conscience shall tell my vocabulary avenging finally that
The better plural form of media, after all,
Is mediocre,
of course, its correct singular form is still
Media. How can I argue with you, medium man?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mosquito-bite free Goodnight - from a mosquito
I am a mosquito thriving in a tropical country
We, mosquitoes, feel highly disturbed
By the crusade against us
Attempts are always on to eradicate us
The reason quoted is that
We propagate diseases
You say we spread malaria, encephalitis
And so many others including the disabling polio
You learned people know that
We have not created any of them
But it so happens when we suck blood from any of you
The disease causing pathogen comes along with the blood
And it is passed on to another person, if we go for his or her blood
You will admit we are not really the culprit
But the person who has already hosted the disease causing agent
Blame him or her, not us
You have not protected your own people from an infection
But conveniently pass the blame on innocent and silent blood suckers
A lot of research is going on in
Arriving at the most effective repellent against us
And in most of the tropical countries
Night through your own people are inhaling
The repellent laden air
We wonder in this process your own folks will end up
With new health disorders with the ingestion of
These newly discovered repellent chemicals
And you will not hesitate to blame us
For this mishap created by your own researchers
Keep it only with you that
We are also developing resistance to most of these repellents
And soon none of them will work against us
Leaving you all to sleep in fools’ paradise
Instead of chasing us
Chase out the disease-causing agent
And if still not possible
Protect yourself against being stung by us
With rightly designed physical barriers
Never go for chemical means to drive us out
Not only you will fail, you may end up with new disorders
Mosquito=bite free good night
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Tamasha (The Show)
Law takes its own course. Justice is blind. Media's role is felt wanting.
Standing at a crossroad
looking for her would be
from another caste
he came wearing a hooded cape
shot her point blank
and escaped
stunned onlookers
left aghast.
The police searched motives
fought over jurisdiction
but arrived at conclusion,
" the deed was lover's envy
it was open and shut case
she was done to death due to jealousy."
So her lover was caught
Who denied the charge
media thundered, " why such haste? "
And wrote stories not in good taste.
Political connections were sought
every Sohan, Mohan and Devi fought
though there was no coup
the police was put in soup
media smelt a scoop.
Investigations followed
local police to CID* and to CBI*
questions were raised in Assembly
creating din at center
hue and cry in the city
some suggested ‘RAW'*
what a pity?
Political fallout was great
putting in turmoil every state
demos, rampage and destruction
hartal#, rioting and arson
taking heavy toll
with no rhyme or reason.
Several were dead
numerous maimed
a few tried to surrender
but shot in encounter
and all this for
just for one murder!
WHAT A TAMASHA!
Ps:
Accidently
after six months of lull
a man caught
in a cheating case
owned responsibility
having killed her
BEACAUSE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY! ! !
-----O-------
* Secret service agencies of India
# Strike
copyright Tribhawan Kaul
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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At Lulworth Cove a Century Back
Had I but lived a hundred years ago
I might have gone, as I have gone this year,
By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know,
And Time have placed his finger on me there:
"You see that man?" -- I might have looked, and said,
"O yes: I see him. One that boat has brought
Which dropped down Channel round Saint Alban's Head.
So commonplace a youth calls not my thought."
"You see that man?" -- "Why yes; I told you; yes:
Of an idling town-sort; thin; hair brown in hue;
And as the evening light scants less and less
He looks up at a star, as many do."
"You see that man?" -- "Nay, leave me!" then I plead,
"I have fifteen miles to vamp across the lea,
And it grows dark, and I am weary-kneed:
I have said the third time; yes, that man I see!"
"Good. That man goes to Rome -- to death, despair;
And no one notes him now but you and I:
A hundred years, and the world will follow him there,
And bend with reverence where his ashes lie."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Wolfe demanded during dying
678
Wolfe demanded during dying
"Which obtain the Day"?
"General, the British"—"Easy"
Answered Wolfe "to die"
Montcalm, his opposing Spirit
Rendered with a smile
"Sweet" said he "my own Surrender
Liberty's beguile"
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Coming By-and-By
Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year,
Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear;
As Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs,
Impatiently begins to "dim her eyes"! -
Herself compelled, in life's uncertain gloamings,
To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved "combings" -
Reduced, with rouge, lipsalve, and pearly grey,
To "make up" for lost time, as best she may!
Silvered is the raven hair,
Spreading is the parting straight,
Mottled the complexion fair,
Halting is the youthful gait,
Hollow is the laughter free,
Spectacled the limpid eye,
Little will be left of me,
In the coming by-and-by!
Fading is the taper waist -
Shapeless grows the shapely limb,
And although securely laced,
Spreading is the figure trim!
Stouter than I used to be,
Still more corpulent grow I -
There will be too much of me
In the coming by-and-by!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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The Mind
My mind
Oh! my mind
can’t understand you
my mind.
Oh! my mind
What are you?
The Human?
The Devil? or
The God?
How can I find
your inner side?
What are you?
Dwelling in the crown of my body
creating illusions through imaginations
raising hopes and expectations
causing perplexity and confusions
an illusion seeking the truth
and the truth becoming an illusion.
Oh! my mind
whatever you are,
you are
taking refuge in
reflection of my thoughts
or taking flight
to limitless horizons
of the universe.
You are indeed
My mind.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Whoever controls the media, controls the mind.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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Where all your teeth?
"Grandpa, where all your teeth have done"
I was taken a back for query taken
She was my grand daughter asking where about
Of teeth that had fallen or faced route
I regained some confidence
Took to courage and faced
All her questions
And started to speak with clear mention
May be they are all shunted out
I told with clear voice for their fall out
"They were shaking and causing me pain"
So I did away with their whole chain
"Your eyes too look so big in glass"
Why do I find it enlarged with typical class?
I had kept ready made answer
She was not convinced but did not push further
"Your vision gets blurred"
"So new sets of glasses are offered"
I tried to make it look simple
She kept quiet and did not put me in trouble
Grandpa, you are kind and generous
Everybody respects as you seem to be famous
I was little bit elated with her innocence
She was altogether perfect in her brilliance
I could see happiness rush on my face
The children were around for all such grace
I have complete control over my utterances
As I take no exception to any occasion for such chances
Children are eager to know about our past
How did we spend our youth and last?
What was the situation at that time?
And so on for their eagerness sometimes
You may be trapped for your ignorance
If you slip your tongue even at once
They may quote you with same sentence
Such is the child's mind with unique presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Soldier, Soldier
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don't you march with my true love?"
"We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best go look for a new love.
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did ye see no more o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly --
But you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain
You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!
Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Morality Pity Conscience Fails To Bridge Extreme Gaps
poverty safely sealed
vast continents away
is desirable who desires
to smell death
choking on perfume
disease stench
causing stomach to heave
flowers ulcers erupts across
stripped desolate landscapes
"we live
as they die
is a walk
between worlds"
morality pity conscience
fails to bridge extreme gaps
"we live as they die is a walk between worlds"
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Some Peace
My honesty everyone doubts and nobody believes me. The sadness just keeps on increasing and turns to be intolerable. Wounds are fresh as ever from the past events of pain. Peace, some peace I try to search although perfect peace is nowhere since perfection is just an illusion of human mind.
A beautiful life and pleasing world, everyone is in search of. Where is such a place is always the thing on everyone's mind. Live and let live is actually the only way to find some hope as spreading love is the need.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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You Are Old Father William
"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray what is the reason for that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box --
Allow me to sell you a couple?"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you mange to do it?"
"In my youth," said his fater, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as every;
Yet you balanced an eel on the tend of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Heriot's Ford
"What's that that hirples at my side?"
The foe that you must fight, my lord.
"That rides as fast as I can ride?"
The shadow of your might, my lord.
"Then wheel my horse against the foe!"
He's down and overpast, my lord.
You war against the sunset-glow,
The judgment follows fast, my lord!
"Oh, who will stay the sun's descent?"
King Joshua he is dead, my lord.
"I need an hour to repent!"
'Tis what our sister said, my lord.
"Oh, do not slay me in my sins!"
You're safe awhile with us, my lord.
"Nay, kill me ere my fear begins!"
We would not serve you thus, my lord.
"Where is the doom that I must face?"
Three little leagues away, my lord.
"Then mend the horses' laggard pace!"
We need them for next day, my lord.
"Next day--next day! Unloose my cords!"
Our sister needed none, my lord.
You had no mind to face our swords,
And--where can cowards run, my lord?
"You would not kill the soul alive?"
'Twas thus our sister cried, my lord.
"I dare not die with none to shrive."
But so our sister died, my lord.
"Then wipe the sweat from brow and cheek."
It runnels forth afresh, my lord.
"Uphold me--for the flesh is weak."
You've finished with the Flesh, my lord!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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As We Teach We Learn
As we teach we learn, each day
And as we learn we see fresh ways,
To forward go, in boundless joy
Our "blueprint" lives to so enjoy.
The circles turn and spirals wend
Through journeys galore without an end.
So open up your soul and eye
To realise that we never die.
We roam Eternal through the sky
With sun and moon and stars, to cry
Their messages of love and peace
We see the light as we complete
Another Universal twirl,
Sometimes as "boy", and sometimes as "girl, "
though all that truly counts you see,
Is that "I" is always ever "Me"
poem by Rosi Caswell
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The Maid-Servant At The Inn
"It's queer," she said; "I see the light
As plain as I beheld it then,
All silver-like and calm and bright-
We've not had stars like that again!
"And she was such a gentle thing
To birth a baby in the cold.
The barn was dark and frightening-
This new one's better than the old.
"I mind my eyes were full of tears,
For I was young, and quick distressed,
But she was less than me in years
That held a son against her breast.
"I never saw a sweeter child-
The little one, the darling one!-
I mind I told her, when he smiled
You'd know he was his mother's son.
"It's queer that I should see them so-
The time they came to Bethlehem
Was more than thirty years ago;
I've prayed that all is well with them."
poem by Dorothy Parker
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J.o.a.t.
There's very little I cannot do
After making up my mind to do it
"Jill of all trades" (my best virtue)
It's not my nature to say "I quit"
Lest up front I say "Aw screw it"
ROTMS
(
Dedicated to women who "Go it alone")
View poems, images and video at;
ROTMS.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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Doctor's Liking
I suppose the question he asked
Gave me a liking for him
As my doctoring resents anything
Like disease
And the falling into sin is itself
The clever disaster
That we imagine
Has arisen
Now.
I philosophically justify
The belief in my heart
And head.
The wishes describe a blessing
But he needs to heal
The wounds of his mind
And body.
Clever and intelligent
And old a regime
Of understanding
Best explains the future
And virtuosity
Of our system of thought.
Must we?
"Let the leg go! " he said.
I can not figure out
A solution to this problem.
poem by Naveed Akram
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