Our Lives
Our lives stutter
beneath the stammering of tongues
the hammering
of blood and bone and muscle
and we burden ourselves
with things
that in the end
don't really matter
poem by Gillian Commerford

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Cowtown
Im going down to cowtown
The cows a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and thats where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And thats where I will be
Im gonna see the cow beneath the sea
The yellow roosevelt avenue leaf overturned
The ardor of arboreality is an adventure we have spurned, weve spurned
A new leaf overturned
Its a new leaf overturned
And so Im going down to cowtown
The cows a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and thats where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And thats where I will be
Im gonna see the cow beneath the sea
We yearn to swim for home, but our only home is bone
How sleepless is the egg knowing that which throws the stone
Foresees the bone, the bone
Our only home is bone
Our only home is bone
And so Im going down to cowtown
The cows a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and thats where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And thats where I will be
Im gonna see the cow beneath the sea
Yes Im going down to cowtown
The cows a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and thats where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And thats where I will be
Im gonna see the cow beneath the sea
Yes Im gonna see (Im gonna see)
The cow (the cow)
Beneath the sea
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Avoid Rejection
take a part of your
pelvic bone
close your eyes
let someone take
the flesh
and bone to bone
of your own bone
let it grow
smoothly
to get rid of the pain
and start anew
bone to bone
of my contention
following yours
nothing
opposing
blood following
the flow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Avoiding A Rejection
take a part of your
pelvic bone
close your eyes
let someone take
the flesh
and bone to bone
of your own bone
let it grow
smoothly
to get rid of the pain
and start anew
bone to bone
of my contention
following yours
nothing
opposing
blood following
the flow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Subconciously
at the surface is a roy
could be roy something else
you face him
beneath a roy could be a jerry something
that you have met but could not fully
remember
you are determined not to be confused
and so you focus on the road that the the yellow bus is taking you
it is nothing but imagination
you are in the house
doing nothing because writing is actually nothing
beneath you is someone else and it
(a thing or something) is telling you what to write
you are not alarmed
it is nothing it is nothing but words and words are nothing
as a matter of familiarity
beneath your mind is the heart
beneath that heart are so many things
you try to enumerate names
and more names
and places
until you reach a certain marker, shades of red,
pathways of veins, flowing blood, all kept and contained
within the sound system
and then you look at your hands
beneath it
someone so lovely and beautiful
someone you desired for long
beneath you
and then you stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A river bears a burden
A river bears a burden
It carries far downstream,
And no man's eyes will see it
Or fathom what it means.
A river bears a burden
Beneath it's swirling toil.
It's rippling edges teasing
The sodden, silent soil.
A river bears a burden
Beneath our nightly dreams,
Our temporal excursions
Along it's watered seams.
A river bears a burden
Of many dreaming feet,
Searching all it's alleys
To a dreamer's slow heartbeat.
A river bears a burden;
It will not wake our sleep,
But carries us forever
Our roaming souls, to meet.
poem by Patti Masterman

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Poetry
These words are not porcelain
Nor are they sculpted from a certain glass
Nor do they shine even after the hour is passed
But they break like flesh and bone
They are a metaphor
For china
For fragile things
And underneath lies the poetry
Beneath the skin
It lives and breathes
Some senses burn hot
Some passion dry cold
But beneath the tempest
Lies the still hour glass
Of all thats told
And these words are the flesh and the bone
The lines in your head
The shadow in the photograph
The stories you have lived
For who can read you, after words?
Who can know the journey you have taken?
Or understand such imprints in the sand?
And yet they the live and leave their sign
In the body of one life
yvette smith feb 09
poem by Yvette Smith

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Inside Beauty
It's not in the mirror
Or on the outside
For you to see
It's in the inside and
It's visible for all to see
It doesn't matter,
How pretty you are
Because inside beauty
Is only skin deep
It's beneath layers
Of skin muscle and bone
It stands alone
It's all you need
Not name brand clothes
The inside makes you
Yeah it's true
The heart, lungs, and brain
Are all inside of you
There are other important parts too
When the body begins to age
It isn't just
Looks that fade
A body begins to wrinkle
It looks different to people
Inside beauty never fades
If it changes with age
It gets better with time
Like a fine wine or like
A valuable painting's worth
There's nothing like it
On the planet earth
poem by Tameeka Smith

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The Homeland Attired In The Chasuble Of Nerves…
A muscle is a muscle, and nothing else,
It is armed forces, power and weapon.
And the nerve of the muscle can
Ascend the mounts of reason…
It resists the power of the assault,
And the invader, too, seems exhausted.
Power is power, and force is force…
It ploughs even the mountain slopes.
A muscle is a muscle, and nothing else,
It is weapon, armed forces and power.
The troops of those muscles,
The muscles themselves
Make a very durable armor.
Muscles protect veins –
The current of life and being,
The willpower’s invisible shield.
The muscle of the heart
Is always on duty,
The pendulum of breath
Never tires out,
And the sound nerve
Encourages and inspires
All the virtues and merits
Of the universe…
A muscle is a muscle, nothing else.
The muscular world storms and rages,
And the sensitive wave of blood
Drills even the leaders and sages.
O muscle, keep awake, keep vigil!
Do not put out the fire of reason!
The homeland attired
In the chasuble of nerves
Quivers, rages and frets…
A muscle is a muscle, and nothing else,
It is armed forces, power and weapon,
And the nerve of the muscle can
Ascend the mounts of reason.
The troops of muscles,
The muscles themselves
Make a very durable armor.
Force is force…
It ploughs even the slopes,
And power is power…
poem by Janri Gogeshvili

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Muscle And Bone
GOD creates out of muscle and bone
Man creates out of steel and stone
Man builds his structures to grow and rise,
To sail the waves or touch the sky.
GOD gives life to the breeze
To move the clouds, or plant the seeds
To bring the rain upon the earth
And to quieten the pain when it comes to hurt.
Man creates with dexterity and complexity
To advance our race or to build our city,
Though man cannot create a leaf,
Though he can, destroy a seed.
Though man can create out of steel and stone
But only GOD can give life to muscle and bone.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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With A Roaring Sound Waves Crash
With a roaring sound waves crash
under Waenhuiskrans,
and they cave there
when gigantic tongues of spray
like white stars break mightily
drenching everything with deep water
like white stars,
like white stars
just before the red dawn comes.
With a roaring sound waves crash
deep out of the dark sea,
like a pack of hungry wolves
that does not give up territory
the water keeps hammering
where it knocks against hard rock,
the water keeps hammering.
the water keeps hammering
until it flows through the cave itself.
With a roaring sound waves crash,
hit battering blows
with endless power
into the folds of the rock
and caught you and I stand
where we see a spectacle
and caught
and caught
mightily the sea sweeps past.
poem by Gert Strydom

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I look at myself and pick out the things I don't like. No matter how much I work out, I never get muscle tone in my butt and hip area.
quote by Tyra Banks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I used to not stutter any. Oh, I did when I was a kid, I stuttered, I had a bad stutter until I was probably between the second and third grade and a guy got rid of it for me.
quote by Lee Hazlewood

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Fountain Filled With Blood
There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave;
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!
’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.
poem by William Cowper

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Natasha in the Snow
For Natasha Richardson 2009
Beneath the snow
lie rocks and stones
that have no surprises
but hardness.
Beneath the skull
lie blood and bone
that hide possibilities
in softness.
Two surfaces collide
in chance and time
spaces are filled
with the heaviness
and swell of blood
pressure pushing tight
Cranium restrictive
enclosed and held
brain coning
no oxygen drive
to breath
no ventricle beat
to pulse
Pupils fixed and dilated
no more response
no more subtle irony
nothing more
no-one.
poem by M.L. Emmett

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On Earth My Nina
Her burden of things walking out
Her burden of things walking out
On Earth my Nina
On Earth my Nina
God forbid a vaguer feat
National hell mock me
Say the sparrow wants a morbid arrow
Here's a quarter; that's the one I want
Maybe I'll buy the whirlwind
That always keeps me yearning
Her sitter's down there mourning
Her burden of things walking out
Her burden of things walking out
On Earth my Nina
On Earth my Nina
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hollow Nothing
While the raging fire burns down the earth
I cocoon myself beside an imaginary hearth
Dreaming of rains to douse the fire
‘It won’t be there’, my hopes aspire!
While the tides sweep lives away
I imagine I can forever stay
Hidden from the tongues in lashing motion
Beneath a placid and protective ocean!
While the storm roars and the gale hisses
I pray for God’s grace and good wishes
To save me come what season
‘I must live whatever the reason’!
Living thus in an imaginary land
Building castle in the drifting sand
I turn a moron selfish and mean
A hollow nothing beyond bone and skin!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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Heartbeat
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering, yeah.
I met a little cutie back in sixty-
six, She used to tie you up
And beat you with a walking stick.
I said, 'Mama, call a doctor you
must be sick!'
She told me that's the only way I
get my kicks.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering.
I been around the world about a
time and again,
I met a little chick in an opium
den.
She put a spell on me that'd freeze
a man,
I said, 'help me, save me', but she
did it again.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering,
yeah, ok.
Oh, oh, oh, yeah.
I met a little lady just yesterday,
Lord, she loves me in a special way.
She put coffee in my tea and she love to say,
'I wanna hold you, I wanna keep you, baby,
Now don't be afraid'.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat keeps on a hammering, yeah.
I don't wanna lose; I don't wanna lose,
I don't wanna lose;
I don't wanna lose myself in love again, yeah.
No, no, lord no.
I don't wanna lose myself in love again,
But my heartbeat, yes my beating heart,
My heartbeat keeps on hammering.
song performed by by Bad Company

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Soil's Tears
The soil knows the burden of tears
The earth’s sadness that it bears
Through endless battles for territory -
Only the soil knows it has no boundary!
Blood spills on it, falls toil’s sweat,
Muscle’s ravage decides the weak’s fate
Cries of desperation and victory’s cheers
All these the soil tearfully bears!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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There's Milk Beneath This Poem
there's milk beneath this poem, and blood
aswirl, like a marble cake of moments half-baked;
there's blood beneath this poem, and tears
unmixed like oil in a rain barrel of thoughts;
there's tears beneath this poem, and come
awash with a million squirming attempts to awaken;
there's come beneath this poem, and the sea
unforgiving, with its undertow of fears, unknown and unsought.
there's milk beneath this poem, and silent screams
unheard for years and moments, draping the hallways;
there's silent screams beneath this poem, and mad laughter
adrift in the corrridors of the family myth, undone;
there's mad laughter beneath this poem, and choking sobs
unmoving in my throat, like a chicken bone, unloved, always;
there's choking sobs beneath this poem, and gnashing teeth
awash with the bitter taste of sweet defeat, like bile, or yesterday's onions.
there's milk beneath this poem, and time
like the blank white page before me;
there's time beneath this poem, and space
where the emptiness is reborn as room to move;
there's space beneath this poem, and thought
rumbling like the very voice of god himself, imploring that
there's thought beneath this poem, and all
is like nothing else, so much as the need to love;
there's milk beneath this poem, and all
the death on earth can't change that.
© Copyright 2010 christo (UN: christo13 at Writing.Com) . All rights reserved.
poem by Christo Andrus

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Given The Dog A Bone
She take you down easy
Going down to her knees
Going down to the devil
Down down to ninety degrees
Oh, shes blowing me crazy
Till my ammunition is dry
Oh, shes using her head again
Shes using her head
Oh, shes using her head again
Chorus:
Im just a givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Im just a givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Im just a givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Yeow
Shes no mona lisa
No, shes no playboy star
But shell send you to heaven
Then explode you to mars
Oh, shes using her head again
Using her head again
Shes using her head
Using her head again
Oh, shes using her head again
Using her head
Chorus
Lets go
Oooh, oh, oh, oh
She got the power of union
Yeah, she only hits when its hot
And if she likes what youre doing
Yeah, shell give you alot
(given everything she got)
Ive just given the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Ive just given the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Im just givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Im just a givin the dog a bone
Givin the dog a bone
Im just a given a dog
Givin a dog
Givin a dog
Ooooh
Im just a givin a dog a bone
song performed by by AC-DC

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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