Only God I Do See
On the battlefield with bullets whistling,
beyond enemy lines without food or shelter,
under a harsh unrelenting sun
You were the only One that accompanied me.
At the shops where I do business,
at the bank while I stood in long queues,
at work under a unrelenting boss,
You were my partner that worked with me.
In the love of my spouse,
in the smiles on my children’s faces
even when I contemplate the lines of my verses
only God I do see.
[Reference: “In the market, in the cloister – only God I saw” by Baba Kuhi of Shiraz.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Solidarity In Lines
unemployment lines
lines of books
Lines of cocaine
Food stamp lines
Theater lines
Grocery store
car wash
school children
Soup kitchen
club
abortion clinic
Delicatessen
traffic lines
crosswalks
Traffic Jam
Lines on a map
Jules gets home and un-loads his rucksack
Gods laziness
Because of the machines and computers we will all end up lonely human beings
poem by Jerome Moore
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Buried Alive
I speak in verses prophecies and curses
I speak in verses prophecies and curses
I hate my life
The miracle is coming its just a hole
Nothings wrong with you, just maintain control
Everyones asking questions, your place is safe
Ill forfeit resurrection to escape the pain
I hate my life
I hate my life
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I speak in verses prophecies and curses
The storm of thorns is growing
There is no end in sight
Chaos claws my jaw
Thank Metal riot
Im in the mouth of madness with this tongue of poetry
I ate the spine of atlas, now the world is crushing me
I hate my life
I hate my life
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
Buried behind enemy lines
Surrogate child for the sins of all mankind
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
For the sins of all mankind
song performed by by Otep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Natives Are Restless Tonight
(Don Tiki)
Let me tell you 'bout my neighborhood
If you're visiting tonight
You better stay out of the shadows
Stay in the bright, bright light
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
They're not particularly interested in me or you
They're just looking for some meat
They can put in their stew
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
It's best to stay upstairs
With the Good Book alone
'Cause when the drums start burnin'
You better leave your sermons at home
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
You might consider yourself lucky
Just to be alive
'Cause it's a full moon tonight
And it's right for a conquering tribe.
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work To Do!
i came from a generation
that worked.... was born to
work, daylight to dawn,
for everything we had.
we grew our own food, we
cut firewood, we worked
with our hands.
we were taught to work...
we built houses, bridges,
paved roads... worked on
farms, worked in sawmills,
worked in factories...
whatever it took for food
and shelter...
and if a neighbor got hurt,
or sick, and couldnt work...
we helped him and his family
till he could.
those of us left who can work
are still working, a lot of us are
out of work, and cant find work!
and so the world has changed...
it seems like a lot of people
spend more time avoiding work
than working... a lot of people
look for the easy way out...are
dependent on society...
still a lot of good and willing people
just need help.
they call this progress...based
on technology, and looking out for
number one. seperated, almost islands...
greed has taken the place of the bent back!
so when it all falls apart, and that will
be soon, what happens? who knows how
to survive? who has the backbone?
things to think about, and yes...
work to do!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Be The C.E.O. Of It
Handle your own business.
With an expertise,
You keep.
And be the C.E.O. of it.
You are the Chief Executive Officer.
Commander of your ship.
Know this.
And conduct yourself with a firm grasp held,
Within an unrelenting fist.
Get over mistakes made.
Moaning over them for you leaves no benefit.
You alone can make it known,
Persistence is in your grip.
And with it,
There is no quitting.
Handle your own business.
With an expertise,
You keep.
And be the C.E.O. of it.
You are the Chief Executive Officer.
Commander of your ship.
Know this.
And conduct yourself with a firm grasp held,
Within an unrelenting fist.
Release from your mind designs of defeat.
You...
And no one else,
Can succeed with skills to achieve.
Handle your own business.
And be the C.E.O. of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Twenty Lines
I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.
Hajji Baba
(Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji)
Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
He was always in love, in love, in love
Come to my tent, oh my beloved
Bring me your lips, warm as the sun
Hear my lament, oh my beloved
Come to my arms, oh wonderful one
Enter my heart and stay there forever
Lost in the spell of stars up above
And we'll be like the man Hajji Baba
Always in love, always in love
(Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji)
Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
He was always in love, in love
Deep in each soul, carefully hidden
There's a desire to be indiscreet
Hajji has said when love is forbidden
Love is so sweet, love is so sweet
Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba, Hajji Baba
He was always in love, in love, in love
Come to my arms, oh my beloved
(Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji, Hajji) [fade]
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not that God has no pity (in answer to Yehuda Amichai)
It is not that God has no pity
on adult soldiers, who crawl
on all fours
and that He only cares
for small children and much less
for children at school,
any fool could believe this gibberish,
but when bullets whistle past your head,
you see comrades and the enemy dead,
how rockets penetrate through
the thick steel armour of tanks
and armoured cars
how grenades, landmines and bombs
explode shattering
you know that mere men
are doing and continue doing
these evil war things
and when you live through
this kind of hell
and come out unscathed,
still living
when your should have been dead,
you know that you are really worshipping
a loving and pitiful God instead
of the merciless one
that some are painting Him
as He has accompanied you
right through the dread.
[Reference: God Has Pity On Kindergarten Children by Yehuda Amichai.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Only You
Hold me forever
Whisper the words Ive waited so long to hear
Loves sweet surrender
Steals an embrace and kisses away the tears
Lookin back down the road of love
We can still feel the heartache
Pain and joy of an unrelenting love
Hold us together
Chorus:
Only you
Youve got control
Only you
Youve got the key to my heart
Only you
Youve got control
Need your love, take me forever
Sad empty faces
Faded away when I fell in love with you
True love erases
Fear and the doubt not knowing wed see things through
So in love, unaware of time
In a world of illusion
We fell in love until the end of time
True love, forever
Chorus
Lookin back down the road of love
We can still feel the heartache
Pain and joy of an unrelenting love
Hold us together
Chorus
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who You Are To Me
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If You Read These Lines This Morning
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines that are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
i, who is nothing to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time Lines
i have said nothing for time wont allow me.
time lines... time lines... time lines, what i felt for you has turned to confusion.
as time lines up our times together worry overshadows my 'influenced' judgement.
time lines..
our future perfectly sealed for i filled my heart with your promises.
time outlined your feelings for me..
times we spent together seem so far away like the times of the early bud.
our love has lost its will to florish like juliets rose.
time has outlined my affection for you.
time lines.. time lines..
the memories we once cherished together, the lines that have been put between us by time have destroyed the love once shared by you and me.
time has been thought to mend broken hearts ALAS, it has made matters worse.
time lines me and you. time lined our fate through spectatr critiques.
we possess souls joint together by time, YET its time that divides us.
time took its tole on our love.
is this forbidden love? that time has outlined
time lines my emotions of love for you..
time lines my emtions.
time lines.... time lines
poem by Njube Nangamso
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The Patteran
From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand;
From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land—
To the end of the world and our Gipsy race, to the death of our dark-eyed line,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine,
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine—
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given them health and strength, pure blood, clear skins for a glorious youth;
I have set in their souls contempt for sham, and a deathless regard for truth;
I have bequeathed the spirit to fight, I have given the will to rise,
And the slumbering fires of Hate and Love in their dreaming, dreaming eyes.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given the love for their native land, wherever that land may be
(My children came from the East, my friends, and round by the Northern Sea),
And a son of a son of mine enemy, to the end of his treacherous line,
Shall be stricken to earth, if he dare but speak, by a son of a son of mine.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Pigeon
I've picked up your name from the floor
and held it for long on the palm of my hand
watching it gently peck its lines
until there remained nothing not a single crumb
and your name well fed slept for a while
in lines of death in lines of life
in lines of the head and lines of the heart
in intricate patterns that sealed me for too long
there was a lullaby I wanted to sing
but I was not able to open my mouth
for fear you'll wake up and disappear
and I promised myself I would never dropp you again
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Tears Of Blood
On every battlefield,
the ground is stained with tears of blood.
The cruelty of war holds no bounds.
Men and boys fight together
and against each other.
Theirs deaths are just numbers
on someone’s statistics chart.
Their names are quickly forgotten
except by their loved ones.
Their bodies rot where they fell
in the no man’s land on a battlefield.
No one can make sense of the useless slaughter
by a faceless enemy across the invisible lines.
Lines drawn in the lunacy of a moment
for which hundreds will die for.
The tears of blood will fall like raindrops
from machinegun fire,
and so the crazy war goes on.
Each side losing brave men
to save some politicians face.
There is no glory in death
and wasting tears of blood on some foreign land,
just a waste of good lives.
When will it ever end?
22-23 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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On manoeuvres
The nature of love is dazed, unknown
like a advance into enemy territory,
behind enemy lines
where you skirmish, reconnoitre the terrain
move from thicket to thicket,
leopard crawl, catwalk
through stretches of open ground
taking the risk, always at the ready
and in the enemy’s midst
loiter in a dense bush
while watching like a hawk, relaxed
and half stupefied at the relative safety
smelling the cigars of the passing guards,
hearing them talking and walking around
without even knowing that you are there
and in the darkness to crawl back, walk miles
crossing streams and rivers
to the safety of your own camp
and in the following detail
to return to the same enemy positions,
you find the way easier, more well known.
[Reference: Map Reference by Douglas Livingstone.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Siridi Sai Baba
SIRIDI SAI BABA Vavroovahana Patra
Siridi Sai Baba is everywhere;
Attracts devotees with pleasure.
At the age of sixteen Baba advises devotes;
Inspires to engage mind in social service with delight.
Baba advises to provide food to dogs, cattle and poor people daily;
Providing food derive peace daily.
On Thursday pray Baba delightfully;
Surrender on the Lotus Feet daily.
Baba is omnipresent;
Provides peace, merriment.
Protects devotee’s life;
Evaporates devotee’s grief.
I, the poet, pray Baba gaily;
Surrender on the Lotus Feet delightfully.
Baba is Vishnu, Rama, Krishna, Jagannath on Earth;
In four ages Baba incarnates with mirth.
Siridi is pure forever;
Baba smiles at Siridi with pleasure.
Cures devotee’s disease;
In the family showers Baba’s Bliss.
He is Almighty;
I, the novelist pray Baba’s with gaiety.
Baba protects women devotees daily;
Provides peace in pure women gaily.
I sing Baba’s song in morning;
Soul drinks the nectar of peace, mind is delighting.
Baba is omnipresent in my family;
Praying Baba we live delightfully.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Cat Peace
What? What’s up with you guys?
can’t a cat have peace in one’s own home, yeah?
never seen a cat eat before?
can’t you just mind your own business
and let a cat do a cat’s business of eating, ha?
HA! - what’s that laugh for?
and for goodness sake put away that camera
You think I’m cute, ha?
wait till I get my paws on you
and a flick of my tail while I’m in mid-air
will take care of your camera
What, you some kind of paparazzi or what?
OK, let a cat eat and you mind own business, yeah?
Oh, I’m really suspicious about you guys
Maybe you’re hungry, yeah?
go get your own food guys;
stop looking at cat food
or at cat as food – I’m really not sure about you guys
You’ll eat anything!
OK, jokes aside
I’ve worked hard my day entertaining you morons
and purring so you can squirm with delight
and curling up in your laps
so you’ll be happy and live longer at my expense
No, I’ve done my work so let me eat in peace
Do your work and go get your own food
That’s better...
Ah, now for some cat food, a catnap after
and some cat peace for a while at least
without adoring humans who think
they’ve got a circus just because they’ve got a cat at home
poem by Raj Arumugam
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