Touching A New Man
Do you want to make difference
and touch the lives of a new man
Then read a new poem every day
And you are welcome for the same
As I recognised you as a creator
For this caste colour creed
Land(country) language Linga(sex)
No barrier.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Natural Poem
This poem is natural and,
It is flowing through the air to touch your heart;
So, if you read it now,
You will surely understand who we are on this earth!
For every new change needs a new start.
Colour your life with much changes and,
Colour your life with true love!
Then you will understand the muse of this natural poem;
And like the joy of peace in the land of many rivers.
This natural poem,
Said, paid, maid, laid, aid, raid;
In the Twelfth Moon and,
On the twenty-fifth day of the moon!
For i am always found in the city when you need me;
But the military servive was taken over by your neighbour.
A network,
A royal guard,
A bronze top!
Encircling it with the muse of love,
And like the poorest people with close associates;
But the famine in East Africa is so severe! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Difference
The other day I wrote a poem
and a friend asked me how I
could feel the pain of her kind,
as she was a different race from me.
You are white and I am black,
so how could you feel the pain I felt?
The answer was simple
we were not of a different race.
There is only one race, the human race.
We maybe different in the colour of our skin,
but we share each other’s pain.
I share yours and you share mine
whenever we are struck by grief.
We may eat different food,
but we both breathe the same air.
We see through different coloured eyes,
but we both see the same things.
There is no difference between us
except within our colour
and I am a man and you are a woman,
but that is where the difference ends.
We both have a heart that beats
and lungs that breathe in air.
No difference there.
If we are cut, we bleed
and our blood is red.
No difference there.
Therefore, you see I can feel your hurt,
feel the tears when you cry.
Now my question is if we were blind
what colour would you see?
The answer is simple,
the same colour as me.
There is no difference between us;
we each belong to the same race.
We are the same,
but with a different face.
16 March 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unconscious Walls
From the waters of Washington
Once steeping into States
The flag hoisted on the ship changes
As the waters change.
No mark, No fence, No boundary
Yet unconscious external walling by humans
And walling ever prevails
Between rich and poor
High and low
Fair and dark
Men and women
Caste and creed
Language and culture
Nationality and status
Everything has its distinct colour, shape, taste, norm
And never one homogeneous whole.
poem by Green Peace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem
i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Alpha and the Omega
The Alpha and the Omega, the creator is He.
I bow before HIM, for HIS love I have in me
Don't disrespect any religion, as we are not the judge
it's the Almighty above! then why do we keep a grudge?
He listens to all whatever caste or creed
The doors to heaven will open to those with good deeds
Religion is sacred, embedded in our hearts
We know who the creator, just different is our path
Judaism, Buddhism, Christianity or Islam
All have their destiny written in their palms
So practice whatever religion, or preach if you so
If your concept is not clear, don't know where you'll go......
poem by Meena Mustafa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is the creator
God is the creator
poem is a creation
Poet is not God.
I am a lover of poem
Poet is my hero
God is hero's hero.
I just read poem
I just enjoy reading poem
I shall continue to read poem
As long as I enjoy poem.
At times
Poems are being written by me.
The credit goes to God
God direct me to write poem
And I write.
God only can explain the meaning
I am just an instrument
And nothing.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem To Be Heard
A poem to be held
a poem to be fed, with words stronger than the ancient
spirits.
Ti's a poem to be read by all.
A poem that beats the heat of temptation away.
It's power in every single word attracts the moonlight.
A poem, a light in the dark wilderness.
A poem that is just needed and leaves the audience
speechless.
A poem that comforts a sad soul.
Read to me a poem
when I'm cold.
Read it to me till I'm old.
When I'm heart broken, a poem, a love, I'd want.
A poem, a victory through lives endless battle.
A poem an epistle to mine heart, and every written word
in it is heard.
A poem, about royalty, about Kings and Queens
and how they live in luxury.
A poem, a song about sweet heavens.
Read me a poem and slow my heart beat down.
A poem with a tasty flavor, I'd want to hear.
Read me a poem that explains how Nelson Mandela
conquered his fears.
A poem that can describe how Martin Luther Kings
felt when he fought for freedom.
I long to hear it,
Therefor read me a poem,
to be heard.
poem by Marlene Rashidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Land Of Joy
Flat face and round bottom,
Long face and small bottom,
One can surely make it a big difference!
And like the power of one's love in the land of joy.
One letter can create a book,
One vote can change a nation,
One candle can be lighted to overcome the darkness!
Yes, one can surely make it a big difference.
One bird can herald a spring,
One smile cam create a beautiful contact,
One's dream cam lead to one's success,
And one laugh can conquer gloom!
But the joy of your muse is from the power of one.
One can surely make is a big change!
One seed can create a garden,
One song can spark movement,
And one poem can touch the hearts of many!
For the joy of my mind is now seen by others.
One tree can give birth to a forest,
One star can guide a ship,
One letter can deeply touch your heart,
One step can start a long journey,
One word can give birth to a prayer!
And like your first kiss to your lover.
One hope can lift the spirits,
One love can bring about the peace and joy of this world,
One touch can inspire love and care;
And one voice can speak the truth with wisdom!
But the joy of this poem is edited by one's mind.
One life can make the difference to guide you on,
One's freedom can liberate others;
And like the star which guided the Three Wise Men,
For one can surely make it a big difference in this life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Will Touch Your Heart!
Muse, infuse!
This poem is for you when you read it;
Because, i love you.
This poem is very special and,
It has the ingredients of love than hate;
So, take hate out of you and,
Bring in the light of love! !
This poem is for you because,
I love you;
And, this poem is here to guide you.
It will touch your heart!
Because, it is from my heart;
This poem is the poem of love,
Without hatred that leads to war! !
This poem is all that i have for you because,
I love you.
Smile and, let me see you laughing with the muse of love;
Becuase, i am here to share my love with you.
This poem has the spices of love and the aroma of romance waiting for you!
Because, it is from my heart.
This poem will touch you when you read it;
Because, i specially wrote it for you.
Muse, infuse!
With the joy of your heart;
Because, this is the true love that i share with you;
And, this poem will touch your heart because,
I love you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caste is Hindus’ root
The high caste beggar is proud of his caste.
The low caste doctor is conscious of his caste.
No amount of education and wealth
Could eradicate the caste consciousness.
20.11.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speeeeeech!
does it make difference you speak in front of many people or alone
does it make difference you speech in historic place or in your toilet
does it make difference you are charismatic leader or unknown beggar from streetside
it makes difference you speak to clash conflict or for better world
it makes difference you speech bonded by past or to move forward
it makes difference you depend by fact or just soap service
does it make difference you read from text or speak fluently
does it make difference you speech in busy market or deserted mountain
does it make difference you write words yourself or scrap it from books and paper
it makes difference everybody exitedly listens or sleeps peacefully on their seats
it makes difference you have freedom to speak or prisoned by intimidation
it makes difference it gives effect or just a long boring speech
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem's Language
a poem has it's own language
if a poet uses the glamour of the language
in his poem...the language
would stand out
if a poet shows his versatality over the language
in his poem...the poet
would stand out
the poet and the language should
lose themselves in the poem...for
the poem to speak it's own language
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have But One Dream
This poem is dedicated to the late
Martin Luther King
I have but one dream
that one day all men and women
will see there is no difference
between us no matter what colour we are.
The air we breathe you and I,
is the same as everyone else.
We are all born of the same colour blood
and we all bleed when we are cut.
There is no difference in our body’s makeup
apart from the shade of our skin.
Yet if you are white in the winter,
you want to look a darker shade
when the summer comes.
If a brother or sister
is that colour all year around
why do we want to look like them
only when summer comes?
If you can answer that question
and understand the meaning of what I say
then racial hatred will slowly disappear
from our world today
and all men and women will live in harmony.
Love will then prevail to set everyone free.
11 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Read This Poem!
read this poem beacause it will make you laugh,
read this poem it goes deep in your heart,
here and there everywhere,
read this poem or it means you dont care,
care of anything really importent,
before i flaunt it dont worry your almost there,
read this poem and you are there.
poem by Jade Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
East And West
The Day has never understood the Gloaming or the Night;
Though sired by one Creative Power, and nursed at Nature's breast;
The White Man ever fails to read the Dark Man's heart aright;
Though from the self-same Source they came, upon the self-same quest;
So deep and wide, the Great Divide,
Between the East and West.
But like a shadow on a screen, mine eyes behold, above
The yawning gulf, a dim forecast, of structures strong and broad;
Where caste, and colour prejudice, by countless feet down trod,
With old traditions crushed by Time, pave smooth the bridge of Love;
And all the creed that men shall heed
Is consciousness of God.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every child, at birth, is the Universal Man. But, as it grows, we turn it into "a petty man." It should be the function of education to turn it again into the original "Universal Man." The child which by birth was the universal man is fettered by us with such constraints as country, language, religion, caste, race and colour. To free it from all these limitations and transform it into "the enlightened soul", that is to say, the universal man, — this should become the first and foremost function of our education, culture, civilization, and what not.
quote by Kuvempu
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Poem Tired Of Being Written Of Itself
THE POEM TIRED OF BEING WRITTEN OF ITSELF
The poem tired of being written of itself
It wanted other worlds and more distant beauty
It wanted the inspiration that ordinary life gives
It wanted too a language beyond what simple words could mean
But the poem could not be more than it was
It fell back upon itself
It was lost in its own lonely being
The poem stayed forever a poem about itself
And when no one read it
The poem had only itself to blame.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Read This Poem
when you read this poem
silently like a prayer written
on the wall
of an ancient structure
and then when you pause
upon a word and begin
to ponder
like ' what is this poem really
trying to say? '
or ' does this poem have in some
way something to inform me
or touch me
or simply waste my time? '
rest assured this poem has
made you phrase some questions
not about you
or about me alone but
whether you believe it or not
this poem has become
a bridge between us
taking the shape
of a rainbow between two islands
and in a moment before you
begin to figure it out
or even know it
it is gone like a sigh passing you by
without any significance
and not worth remembering
but once
after you have read till the end
once there was this poem
and it seems to have no meaning at all
except a task
a journey that you have taken
arriving at nowhere
and giving you the essence of nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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