11.11.11
11.11.2011 and not 11.11.11(1111)
It was just hoax about eleven, eleven and eleven
The figure was odd and not even”even”
What was then so special to talk about?
Why was it creating flutter and fought?
It was thought of some brain product
Just floated from mind for others to act
Involve in figure magic with imagery show
To show the people that universe had few hours to go
Well it is not 11.11.1111 but 11.11.2011
It had nice matching if had in raw all the elevens
Funny calculation made about is figure of eight
In both the counting it stands eight and right
(11 11 1111=8, 11 11 2011=8)
Other than this equation there is no coincidence
It is just a hype created at once
People go after making it as special
Nothing comes as concrete reply or denial
Not a sun, moon is coming in single line
So it con be considered as holy or divine
Some people feed it with religious fervor
To claim it as gift from power as favor
Person on death bed may speak no lies
He is afraid of not inviting wrath as he dies
So if we fear a lot about our extinction
We must resolve and take pledge not to fuel the situation
Live for some cause and render humanity service
Make life little worthy with ordinary promises
That at least one hungry man will be delivered with food
This will not only satisfy noble soul and feel too good to
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Show Me How To Live
In with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldnt buy an eye of sleep
And in the aching night
Under satellite
I was not recieved
With the stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure is or is this a disease
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
In the afterbirth
On the quiet earth
Let this things remind me
You thought you made amend
You better think again
Before my row defines you
Hey hey I said
Near as I an figure
You gave me life now show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
And in your waiting hands
I will land
And roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Show me how to live
Show me how to live
Show me how to live
Show me how to live
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Anna! Anna
Anna! Anna! This was our Tamanna (wish)
It was a battle for fight to finish
Millions raised a banner of dissent
Nationalism in ruling circle was felt absent
In thousand of years you find only figure
Comes to our rescue for securing future
“Whenever there is excess of everything
I shall come on earth for delivering something”
Anna, you cam e as an apostle of peace
Life was becoming hell and not at all at ease
Human values were at stake and life unstable
No one was able to hold ground well and able
You had no army or backing of muscle power
Hardly could be seen people and counted as fewer
You emerged from no where and held a key
Nothing could stand on the way not even power or money
Nationalism is such a powerful thing
It can’t be purchased for offer of something
When there is awakening at large scale
Politicians may run from scene with faces turning pale
Youth today sees the divine figure in him
Every single citizen sees a sun beam
The light may spread all over and darkness may disappear
Millions hungry may have hope for smiles to wear
Can you imagine not a dropp of blood?
Revolutions have taken places for shelter and food
This ordinary man has shown bloodless transformation
What a magic for lifting of moral and elevation
Not a single consideration for self but only for nation
Where people can live without fear and burning questions
Salute to you O, noble man from our country men
This is starting of new era with good omen
Sunday,28th of august month in the year 2011
India, along with world, may experience heaven
All high hopes and bright sun rays in life
Still some more battle is to waged and walk on edge of knife
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anna Anna
*Anna! Anna! This was our Tamanna (wish)
It was a battle for fight to finish
Millions raised a banner of dissent
Nationalism in ruling circle was felt absent
In thousand of years you find only figure
Comes to our rescue for securing future
“Whenever there is excess of everything
I shall come on earth for delivering something”
Anna, you cam e as an apostle of peace
Life was becoming hell and not at all at ease
Human values were at stake and life unstable
No one was able to hold ground well and able
You had no army or backing of muscle power
Hardly could be seen people and counted as fewer
You emerged from no where and held a key
Nothing could stand on the way not even power or money
Nationalism is such a powerful thing
It can’t be purchased for offer of something
When there is awakening at large scale
Politicians may run from scene with faces turning pale
Youth today sees the divine figure in him
Every single citizen sees a sun beam
The light may spread all over and darkness may disappear
Millions hungry may have hope for smiles to wear
Can you imagine not a dropp of blood?
Revolutions have taken places for shelter and food
This ordinary man has shown bloodless transformation
What a magic for lifting of moral and elevation
Not a single consideration for self but only for nation
Where people can live without fear and burning questions
Salute to you O, noble man from our country men
This is starting of new era with good omen
Sunday,28th of august month in the year 2011
India, along with world, may experience heaven
All high hopes and bright sun rays in life
Still some more battle is to waged and walk on edge of knife
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Divine Mission
I try to peep in divine eyes
I am not sure yet I find it is worth to try
I may get answer through lovely stare
Even though “Carolyn” may not find it fair
She is totally different with earthly figure
She may stand for principles for sure
What does she want in return?
Absolute welfare and wait for ordinary turn
Why do people waste their precious life in mission?
When many have blot on their face with guilt admission?
I am for sure about her social standing
She has everything to speak about and for understanding
I don’t believe in gossips
I too don’t like flying missionaries on trips
What do they have to claim for real struggle?
When life is uncertain and like water bubble
Not all can perform miracle with ordinary task?
So many may come forward and ask?
What can be real motives for such a horrible adventure?
When no one can offer anything for bright future?
She may be towering strength for many aspirants
Many might have come from distant land as migrants
To whom they can look as real figure for onward march?
I think she is there with all her vision for serving as torch
I know nothing about her inner zeal
Yet I feel so close and feel it real
Why do we need any angels to descend from heaven?
When we have enough in her as green
No eyes can stare or penetrate at you if lack sincerity
This is sign of greatness and very fine quality
Not all people may try to see the motives
As the people remain narrow minded and selective
I shall not adore her as something special
But can’t offer any criticism or denial
She is there by her own right
Else who comes forward with mission to fight?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eleven today
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Today you're eleven
That's nine add on two.
Now ten is behind you
And twelve is to come
When riding your bike
Don't fall on your bum.
A six and a five
Make eleven as well
Your maths are so good
This I don't need to tell.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Legs are eleven
But you've only TWO!
Eleven is better
Than ten any day
That's what I think
And I'm going to say:
'Roses are red
Violets are blue,
Eleven is lovely
And so too are you.'
Written Sept 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Neck On Up
I gave the girls the eye
Ive given lust a try
Im just an average guy
From the neck on down
I used to have my fun
When all was said and done
I only wanted someone
From the neck on down
Maybe its one too many mornings after
Maybe Im sick of my own nervous laughter
Now Im looking for heaven
From the neck on up
For a perfect eleven
From the neck on up
I was a typical man
I had a master plan
I thought that heaven began
From the waist on down
And I had always said
That I could use my head
But I was thinking instead
From the waist on down
Maybe its one too many frozen shoulders or
Maybe I havent noticed getting older
Trapped in a dream
Something has to change in this endless stream
Of ships that pass in the night
Is this what I want out of life?
I want to know what this game is about
I want someone to try and figure me out
I cant determine why
But Im a different guy
Your modus operandi
Turned me inside out
Its not that I dont care
About your fine hardware
But youve got something else there
I cant figure out
Maybe I just cant finish what Ive started or
Maybe its simply that Ive been outsmarted
Now Ive found my heaven
From the neck on up
Youre a perfect eleven
From the neck on up
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Alcohol is a very necessary article... It makes life bearable to millions of people who could not endure their existence if they were quite sober. It enables Parliament to do things at eleven at night that no sane person would do at eleven in the morning.
George Bernard Shaw in Major Barbara (1907)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Eleven
ELEVEN
Eleven, eleven, eleven years old,
intrepid, courageous, becomingly bold,
awaiting the whistle to aim at the goal,
youth victory snatches to go for the gold.
Eleven in yellow, eleven in blue,
first warm up, then face out, they know what to do,
team practice their axis extended, each soul
feels ready, steels steady, heart heady, on cue.
Eleven enthusiasts, courage extolled,
engage without rage on the field that has told
long tales of hopes met or defeats swallowed whole,
on one ball all focus as onwards its rolled.
Eleven, eleven, well matched, tackle through,
a game which enflames passions partisan, true,
team work all important as each knows the role
to play so the day stays as record all view
Rupert Kensho Robin Le Saux written Chateaugiron 23 October 2006
robi03_1457_robi03_0000 XXX_MXX
Eleven poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Counting Airplanes
I put ketchup on my scrambled eggs
And everybody thinks it's funny
I don't get mad
I don't laugh cause you don't shave your legs
But everybody thinks it's funny
No need to get mad
I don't spend my time with anyone
Who doesn't think I'm wonderful
Or somewhat cash refundable at times
Now I'm out here counting airplanes
Trying to make sense of the change
And I don't wanna be just anybody
So don't try to figure me out
I won't try to figure you out
I don't wanna be some average anybody
Now I got friends that ride into the storm
And ride out of the storm with nothing
They rode into the storm with
And there seems to be a price for everything
You get what you pay for then you pay for
What you already thought you bought before
When you're up between the new sky line
The city lights and the warm sunshine
It's a long way down
When you can count on one hand what you love
And can count on who you love to help you on your long way down
You end up counting airplanes
Trying to keep up with these changes
I don't wanna be with anybody else
So don't try to figure me out
I won't try to figure you out
I don't wanna be some average anybody
song performed by by Train
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An obsession
I have so many things in my possession
diamond, gold silver has not created any obsession
The wealth is multiplied without any efforts
the laden ships are still landing at ports
Everything is taking place at very ease
but it does not give me joy or please
People address me as wealthy man and tease
I am eager to use it for noble cause and release
What makes man to enjoy the moment?
the beautiful happenings around or hectic movements?
the worldly affairs or natural climate
which of the things stay near possibly to state
The noise atmosphere and wordy duals appeal no one
it has never found favor with poor, rich or any one
I had everything in my possession
still i prefer to stay away with clear obsession
You can never influence a person or mass
they are distinct and super in their own class
They have full freedom with total integrity
they know what is divinity and serenity
You may donate large sum for noble cause
it will not create deep impact because
you have been blessed with wealth
it is going for charity and good health
It may satisfy to the extent of donation
still it may not quality for equation
the wealth might have come through inheritance
it does not carry much weight or substance
The poems or songs created in His praise
leads to likes of many and enough to raise
your status as beloved and nice figure
no one could have got it for sure
The wealth may deplete and show the bottom
You may feel poor with unimaginable symptom
the verses and creations may take you to people's heart
what an innovative way of living near with lovely start
No gold or jewelry will grant you enough access
it may lie in abundance or in excess
it may still bother you as having very less
you will be suffering from tension and stress
What you loose as an ordinary poet?
much to gain by remaining very quiet?
no one can steal any of golden creation
as it is instrument for their recreation
I have lived with both but enjoyed only one
it has altogether changed my behavior and tone
I have touched the ground to experience is depth
it has enough of everything to be felt with strength
The music may never die out
you have nothing to fear or face the rout
there is uniqueness to feel about
it is proving as health tonic to feel stout
It takes you to a far off land
You can not fear for life or see anybody's hand
it is just an elevation to feel satisfaction
This is very nice and good indication
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mampi: A Girl Of 11
Pranab k c
15/07/2011
Father is blind of one eye
only the elder brother
going to lose his kidney
Mampi the girl of eleven
feels poverty silently
She can't do anything to share
She can't learn her lesson well
Mampi the girl of eleven
feels poverty silently
She dreams to share her family
She dreams to fight a lot
Mampi the girl of eleven
feels poverty silently
One morning noise everywhere
Mampi sleeps noiseless
Mampi a girl of eleven
committed suicide
Two days later
family found a suicide note
broken words of Mampi's hand
give my kidney to my brother
give my eye to my father
I die because I learnt
man can share body-parts
with others after death'
Mampi the girl of eleven years
felt poverty silently
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Is Needed Most Right Now
'That number multiplied by itself
Is no further than the previous number
Added to it!
5x5=25
6x6=36
Five plus six is eleven, right?
Add eleven onto 25 and you have 6x6!
Or subtract eleven from 36 and you will have 25! '
Why isn't mathematics taught that way?
In our schools?
'It would start an avalanche of thinkers...
And what is needed most right now,
Is a supply of more gullible people!
And 'that' we seem to be losing ground on.
That is becoming low in supply...
And ignorance spreads like wild fire!
Why?
We wonder.
WHO is subduing the process of thought?
They are 'not' doing a good job at that at all!
'Thinking Stinks'
And that is the message we want to send!
Critical thinking is not in demand.
We must create fresh beliefs
Before we lose the land! '
Good luck...
You lost me with this one!
Wake me up for recess!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mind Of A Crazy Person
“Your asking me to be in the mind
of a crazy person”,
my friend did reply,
I can tell you this,
and here is why.
They are definetly
a waste of time.
Also, I don’t think I want to know,
these people live with made up foes,
Foes in their mind that they
Rant and rave to,
they have no clue.
They are crazy,
but they make you think,
they don’t need a shrink.
Giving you a pretty image
of all their made up lies,
giving their story more life.
So your answer to your
question is plain to see,
stay away from Crazy people,
and the world will be more happy.
Written by Christina Sunrise on March 21,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But here's the deal: If I were smart, I could figure out curling. If I were even smarter, I could figure out why people would actually watch other people doing it. I have tried. I can't. I can't even figure out the object of the game. Is it like darts? I just don't get it.
quote by Bob Schieffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Lost everything
I lost everything all at once.
My world stopped just like that.
My friend ditched me. I'm out of school.
I even lost Monica.
She was sweet, funny, and nice.
She moved out of state.
I won't graduate.
My life is anything but great.
Maryssa ditched me. I don't know if
we're still friends.
My life is terrible.
It should go ahead and end.
I lost everything all at once.
Nothing's right at all.
I need a job so I can move.
So I can independently stand tall.
Like I'm an adult. Not a kid.
Like other people think.
Most people would say my life is good,
but I say my life stinks.
Once you quit school your friends
forget about you.
Take it from me I know.
Believe me I do.
I've lost everything all at once.
Shattered are my dreams.
I need to find a way to realize
exactly what my life means.
I know I've been hateful, but I
have a reason to cry.
If I could speak to God myself
I'd only ask him why?
Why put me through this torment?
I haven't done a thing.
Help me figure out why all my
heart does is sting.
I'm seventeen. I'm too young
for this stress.
I can't sleep at night. My
whole life is a mess.
No one will help me.
Or show me the way.
All people tell me is that
It'll one day be okay.
I have hope that it eventually
will.
So, what do I do till then?
This pain is too damn real.
I've lost evrything all at once.
It hurts too bad.
I want something to call my own.
So, I won't be so sad.
Help me please show me
someone cares.
My life hurts. Sometimes
it's too hard to bare.
Will someone tell me what my life means?
Until then I've lost everything.
poem by Heather Noble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
while Jean is typing...
sometimes we want to talk to someone just to fill in the hours
but people want always to be taken special
and cannot appreciate this casual need
but no one is really special in this universe
it seems that each one is nothing but a speck
of dust
and this disappoints someone somewhere
who conceives the idea that
the universe needs him and that it would be
incomplete without him/her
we have wandered for a long time
we invent a universe
religion
we want to rationalized always our importance
i expect the truth
that after all these we are nothing
but a product only of
an evolution
without any significance at all
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Attention~Atención
Atención, All people
Warning, warning, warning
De alerta, alerta, alerta
Stay on the alert
There will not be no mourning
Mourning over a lost soul
People see all there is to see
Mourning over a soul to be
One that has to become whole
Whole with the one they love
Staying under the covers
Looking down on their lover
Seeking the white dove
Crashing into the gates
The gates of heaven
With the number eleven
Now, everything is at stake
Eleven missing souls
The other two are gone
Their all alone
Everything as a toll
A toll not willing to be taken
A prison at the end of the road
Trying to figure out the code
Everyone if faking
Faking like they really care
Care about the lost souls
Even if they have to pay for the toll
Now, you are scared
Warning, warning, warning
De alerta, alerta, alerta
Un alma perdidas, alma perdidas, alma perdidas
The lost souls, lost souls, lost souls
Atención, All people
In My Uniqueness
i am so special
i am so special
i am a winner
not a loser
a conqueror, born to conquer
from zero, to a hero
from nothing, to something
nobody, to somebody
from grass, to grace
came out of darkness
to show my ways
my God created me special
i am so special
heavenly king, i will reign
power over sorrow
and from pain
good in name
and of fame
good in spirit
and in mind
one of it kind
you will never, ever find
i am so special
so so special
poem by Matt Ancient
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Feed Them!
Plenty of fertile land,
In every host and guest,
Plenty of much needed grains,
In every other country,
We have enough food to feed,
But People are hungry.
One billion in total,
Seven tenth of them in Asia,
People have no money,
People have no man created money,
They sleep in hungry,
People have no mint created coins,
To buy the food to evade pain,
To fill their acidic stomach,
Every six person on earth,
One person is skeletal,
With haunted look,
One hundredth of them,
In the developed world,
shame on the hypocrites,
who hold back and destroy the food.
Gods of human, Feed them.
Gods of heaven, Feed them.
Gods of hell, Feed them.
Singular God of the desert,
Please feed them.
with the food to the poor
and the knowledge to the ignorant,
who are recalcitrant in nature,
selling the Gods to human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!