Ordinary human being
I am very shy
But a descent boy
Hardly of sixteen
Just out of teen
Know nothing about world
Turning hot and sometimes cold
Loose temper very easily
But fall in line readily
People say" world is wide open "
Open wings and fly even
Reach the sky and hit back the ground
Joy and love is surely to be found
I wish to be great man
Rule the entire world but as human'
Where there should be no misery
Life sans problems and worries
I am not snake charmer
But can be called as reformer
I mix with people and hear their woes
I know at heart where actually life goes
You need no big budget
Only open your heart and let
Show the world that you love and care
Heaven is here and you needn't go any where
Wish I could reach out and read their aspirations
The manner in which they want healthy relation
I have no magic wand to turn the equations
But certainly a logic to make worth mention
"Hello world" I am making scene
The impact you might have never seen
I shall rule the heart of millions'
As I wish not to rush to the pavilion
I am handsome and loving young man
Anybody may propose and be my woman
Yes, I am not at all in hurry
But some one has to enter and carry …
Who would want to be woman of my dream?
Who would join me in my lonely team?
I shall insist no one to join in struggle
As it won't be smooth or free from troubles
I can't look at the sky and count stars
They are from unreal world and very far
I want people should be seen as my stars
Never get disillusioned with uncertainties and wars
No doubt I am peasant boy
Have not come out from days of toys
People say "I have milky teeth"
I should be at home to be with
Yes I value home traditions
Parents and all occupy special positions
Yet brethrens from all walks of life come above
As they have shown and definitely proved
Our forefathers have shed the blood and suffered
I wish to run on their foot steps and offer
Whatever I can in my ordinary capacity
And come out with flying colors and show the dignity
What did our forefathers do?
Did not leave us behind to pass through
Great ordeals and lot many sufferings
We can prove right as ordinary human being
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
I Feel Shy
I am very shy
But a descent boy
Hardly of sixteen
Just out of teen
Know nothing about world
Turning hot and sometimes cold
Loose temper very easily
But fall in line readily
People say' world is wide open '
Open wings and fly even
Reach the sky and hit back the ground
Joy and love is surely to be found
I wish to be great man
Rule the entire world but as human'
Where there should be no misery
Life sans problems and worries
I am not snake charmer
But can be called as reformer
I mix with people and hear their woes
I know at heart where actually life goes
You need no big budget
Only open your heart and let
Show the world that you love and care
Heaven is here and you needn't go any where
Wish I could reach out and read their aspirations
The manner in which they want healthy relation
I have no magic wand to turn the equations
But certainly a logic to make worth mention
'Hello world' I am making scene
The impact you might have never seen
I shall rule the heart of millions'
As I wish not to rush to the pavilion
I am handsome and loving young man
Anybody may propose and be my woman
Yes, I am not at all in hurry
But some one has to enter and carry …
Who would want to be woman of my dream?
Who would join me in my lonely team?
I shall insist no one to join in struggle
As it won't be smooth or free from troubles
I can't look at the sky and count stars
They are from unreal world and very far
I want people should be seen as my stars
Never get disillusioned with uncertainties and wars
No doubt I am peasant boy
Have not come out from days of toys
People say 'I have milky teeth'
I should be at home to be with
Yes I value home traditions
Parents and all occupy special positions
Yet brethrens from all walks of life come above
As they have shown and definitely proved
Our forefathers have shed the blood and suffered
I wish to run on their foot steps and offer
Whatever I can in my ordinary capacity
And come out with flying colors and show the dignity
What did our forefathers do?
Did not leave us behind to pass through
Great ordeals and lot many sufferings
We can prove right as ordinary human being
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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How Deep Is Your Love?
Superficial, or sacrificial?
Secular, or the supernatural?
How deep is your love?
Would you give up quality of life?
Or give up life itself?
To what do we let go?
To what do we hold on?
People or objects?
How far do we go,
Before we move on?
To our breaking point,
Or until we have proven it.
Hold on to resentment,
Let go of another.
Prove our point, or to prove love.
Beauty is only skin deep.
But beautiful is at the core.
The spirit lives forever.
It endures all.
Our essence, our core, is love itself.
Given by God, as He lives inside of us.
He is buried deep,
Surrounded by lies.
Lies we have bought in a cold cruel world.
A world of shallow love.
Love of self, at the cost of another.
She walked away,
He waited.
She asked, "Why when you had me you did not want me, "
"But now I am gone, and you will fight? "
"You have changed, but it is too late."
"For I have found another."
The man replied, "The answer is simple."
"Why is it, you have me now and do not want me? "
"I have proven the truth of my love."
"I have endured a thousand deaths."
"I have risen each time."
"To become love itself."
"Not for me, but for you."
"Affection is shown, but love is assumed."
"To the superficial, love is all show."
"To the sacrificial, love is the show."
"I can tell you I love you,
"But the words have no substance."
"They disappear in thin air."
"Love is patient."
"Love as a feeling, will come and go."
"Feelings are impatient."
"It is truth that never changes."
"And love, that is true, will endure all."
"As it has since the beginning of time."
"Not as defined by society."
"But as defined by the creator and sustainer."
"It is only once the feelings have broken the heart, the holder of the feelings."
"That the beholder is freed."
"To show the love that will never be broken."
"Love that is true."
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Two Schools
I put my heart to school
In the world, where men grow wise,
"Go out," I said, "and learn the rule;
Come back when you win a prize."
My heart came back again:
"Now where is the prize?" I cried. ----
"The rule was false, and the prize was pain,
And the teacher's name was Pride."
I put my heart to school
In the woods, where veeries sing,
And brooks run cool and clear;
In the fields, where wild flowers spring,
And the blue of heaven bends near.
"Go out," I said: "you are half a fool,
But perhaps they can teach you here."
"And why do you stay so long,
My heart, and where do you roam?"
The answer came with a laugh and a song, ---
"I find this school is home."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Goodbye Mine M.j.
A "Stranger in Moscow" told me that you've gone!
But is it true that you've gone my M.J.?
And with tears in my eyes I say goodbye my M.J.
You who feeds the eyes and the ears
And has graced our African soil
But why did you have to go, you "Smooth criminal"
When you know "They don't care about us"
Tell me, who will "Heal the world"?
Who will make it a better place for us?
Who will give to the poor once and again to their necessity?
Who will be there for them in their anguish and pain?
O', know you not that admired you are of those that hate you most
And did you have to go; or where you too lonely?
But you said "We're the world" that "You are not alone"
Then why did you have to go? And did you leave another "Thriller"
If no, then why choose to be "The man in the mirror"
Thus dirge and elegy now met in my heart. Why?
"Do you remember the time" we first met in my dream
And "The way you make me feel" with your "Childhood"?
Oh king of pop, my M.J., "I want you back"
And you "Got to be there" for me on my birthday
To sing me your song, "Don't stop till you get enough"
While "Rockin Robin and Ben" "Off the wall" till they "Scream"
For your love is magical because you're angelica
You are so wonderful because you're beautiful
You are indispensable because you're irreplaceable
And now I see the "Liberian girl" cry because you're "Speechless"
And upon our bodies the nighted color of mourning you. Why?
Alas death! Why taketh him away when all that look on him yet not satisfied?
O', let not the world lose another "Michael Jackson".
Michael I love you "Yesterday, today and forever."
May the spirit light your way
Through the land of the shadow
To the halls of eternal peace. Amen.
In the cabinet of my imagination, in the treasury of my reason, in the registry of my conscience, and in the council chamber of my thought, there shall you live forever.
I LOVE YOU MINE M.J.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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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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The Gardener XXVI: What Comes From Your Willing Hands
"What comes from your willing
hands I take. I beg for nothing
more."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
"If there be a stray flower for me
I will wear it in my heart."
"But if there be thorns?"
"I will endure them."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
"If but once you should raise your
loving eyes to my face it would make
my life sweet beyond death."
"But if there be only cruel
glances?"
"I will keep them piercing my
heart."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest
mendicant, you ask for all that one
has."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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In The Moonlight
"O lonely workman, standing there
In a dream, why do you stare and stare
At her grave, as no other grave where there?"
"If your great gaunt eyes so importune
Her soul by the shine of this corpse-cold moon,
Maybe you'll raise her phantom soon!"
"Why, fool, it is what I would rather see
Than all the living folk there be;
But alas, there is no such joy for me!"
"Ah - she was one you loved, no doubt,
Through good and evil, through rain and drought,
And when she passed, all your sun went out?"
"Nay: she was the woman I did not love,
Whom all the other were ranked above,
Whom during her life I thought nothing of."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The Oldest Song
For before Eve was Lilith. -- Old Tale.
"These were never your true love's eyes.
Why do you feign that you love them?
You that broke from their constancies,
And the wide calm brows above them!
This was never your true love's speech.
Why do you thrill when you hear it?
You that have ridden out of its reach
The width of the world or near it!
This was never your true love's hair, --
You that chafed when it bound you
Screened from knowledge or shame or care,
In the night that it made around you!"
"All these things I know, I know.
And that's why my heart is breaking!"
"Then what do you gain by pretending so?"
"The joy of an old wound waking."
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Mom
"Hello mom, " I said "It's me"
"California set me free"
She just laughed and said "I knew"
Said I was one of the few
Who could make it anywhere
Go through life without a care
Which I can I know for sure
For in my heart I am pure
We talked for a long, long while
Which is really not my style
Then just before our goodbyes
She started in with the lies
About how good life had been
How she gave up on the gin
Then I heard a word she slurred
That moment my world was blurred
Was I to ignore the call
Or stop her from her sure fall
It pains me every day
That I didn't even pray
For we never spoke again
That's the source of all my pain
poem by Paul H Nelson
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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New dimension
I fully agree with discarding the "ism"
Not disregarding totally their "ism"
As it has remained age old tradition
To confine with one and only condition
We are no authority to malign
Not to force any one to align
Wrap up in our thoughts
Some of the lessons forcibly taught
Let individual sticks to his own belief
Trust and profess that gives him relief
For worldly worries and tension
So it will be worthless for anything to mention
Yes nationalism has something greater role
Unity is must among population for honest call
To Breath for universal love and to profess
The kind of "ism" that has not been heard on surface
Love for country by people is understandable
But blind faith and "ism" for forcing others is condemnable
Here comes point of conflict where it assumes significance
Then it can't be discarded outright or at once
In my opinion there is greater role for humanism
This "ism" is holier than any other "ism"
It is not folly and should not be considered as such wholly
It is above all "isms" and so to be considered holy
No clever argument can push this "ism" in corner
It has to be realized sooner or later
Some of the intelligent people try to create confusion
It comes not out of pity but just out of infusion
Think of immense relief reaching to affected people
From all corners of world to the people in trouble
No religion or "ism" tag for rendering assistance
It is human face that is rushing without taking any chance
It is certainly not a new dogma
It is like fountain and flora
It flows from human heart with new dimension
Just waiting to show its class with worthless mention
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I did not cry
In that day I didn't cry
I didn't know exactly why?
People around and relatives wept
But not all tears except one I had kept
He was laid on the ground
Very quietly and peacefully found
He deserved praises from all
Now I feared all tears may fall
He was man of principles and known as down to earth
He was not at all afraid of death
He used to say" life may be over one day"
Hence never loose patience all the way
Enjoy with whatever you have
Treat all equal and nicely behave
Words may fall as if from sage's tongue
Crystal clear with echo and not a vague
"Dear son, I have a high hope in you"
Never loose a hope and always prove true
I was always upset with his advices
As if he was about to leave me on his demise
He lived his life peacefully
Not all the people might have proved it successfully
I was sure of his life mission
"Life for the people" was his dear ambition
How can I weep over his demise?
When he had taken from me a promise
I will not dropp a tear for whatever reason
As he was not for me at all as single person
I had spent most of my time with the forces
But he had never regretted with simple word of remorse
I controlled my emotions with great difficulty
As he had told me not to feel any kind of sorry
: "Life is not what people firmly believe in and lead"
He used to tell me in private "people must observe and read"
What you are doing and how are you useful for the noble cause?
He may then take deep breath and wait for my response
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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You're right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Ungrateful world
I may be called unfaithful
If I say "world is ungrateful"
"People are unresponsive"
"Despite my being obedient and submissive"
"Tit for tat" some one advised
Withdraw even if promised
You can't survive in this selfish world
Never show warmth and be cool or cold
So many sets of arguments were presented
I had given enough of thoughts but really not consented
They were to be called irresponsible
Yet very much practical to save you from the troubles
I am not seer or saint here to profess
But certainly happiness comes when you confess
Go to wall and earnestly ask for forgiveness on any mistake
It may be heard and responded to provide you strong intake
"Sir, can we be of any help to you" how do we feel?
When someone remembers you and comes for help at will
I am overwhelmed at their gesture and feel elated
As I am of the conviction that good work always remain related
People don't forget your noble past
Even though situation may turn very fast
You may be put in difficult situation to pull on
But help certainly comes forward without made known
Every action has got its equal reaction
It need not be proved for any addition or subtraction
It is beyond doubt and rules for all the times
Love is paid in same coin even in bad times
I have said number of times and may reiterate
Don't combine one action with another and relate
It may help no where and increase bitterness
Let us all work for togetherness and happiness on face
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I like your books
In the betting line the other
day
man behind me asked,
"are you Henry
Chinaski?"
"uh huh," I answered.
"I like your books," he went
on.
"thanks," I answered.
"who do you like in this
race?" he asked.
"uh uh," I answered.
"I like the 4 horse," he
told me.
I made my bet and went back
to my seat....
the next race I am standing in
line and here is this same man
standing behind me
again.
there are at least 50 lines at
the windows but
he has to find mine
again.
"I think this race favors the
closers," he said to the back of
my neck. "the track looks
heavy."
"listen," I said, not looking
around, "it's the kiss of death to
talk about horses at the
track..."
"what kind of rule is that?"
he asked. "God doesn't make
rules..."
I turned around and looked at him:
"maybe not, but I
do."
after the next race
I got in line, glanced behind
me:
he was not there:
lost another reader.
I lose 2 or 3 each
week.
fine.
let 'em go back to
Kafka.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Thoughts in a Far Country
I rise and applaud, in the patriot manner,
Whenever (as often) I hear
The palpitanat strains of "The Star Spangled Banner,"--
I shout and cheer.
And also, to show my unbound devotion,
I jump to my feet with a "Whee!"
Whenever "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean"
Is played near me.
My fervour's so hot and my ardour so searing--
I'm hoarse for a couple of days--
You've heard me, I'm positive, joyously cheering
"The Marsailles"
I holler for "Dixie." I go off my noodle,
I whistle, I pound, and I stamp
Whenever an orchestra plays "Yankee Doodle,"
Or "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp."
But if you would enter my confidence, reader,
Know that I'd go clean off my dome,
And madly embrace any orchestra leader
For "Home, Sweet Home."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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The Mighty Power Of The Pen
When I was young, you told me
That the pen was mightier than the sword.
‘Twas from those days I do believe
You showed me the power of written word.
Not only did you show that to me,
But you practised what you preached.
I watched you as you daily proved,
That to the furthest corner word could reach.
I have used this power in so many ways.
I have never known it fail.
When knowledge or point I wish to impart,
With the pen I just "set sail".
I really wish to thank you Dad
For the times I did not understand.
When I felt angry with myself and the world,
You placed a pen within my hand.
You taught me that there are many ways,
To say what is in my heart.
You told me that whatever I said,
To make it constructive from the start.
So as I look back along the years,
To the times when I said "No! "
I recall your voice and see your face,
And to the "power of the pen" I go.
I've learnt from hardship and from good,
That to help to change the world,
I must sit me down and constructively write,
When once angry words I'd have hurled.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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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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My Future
"Let's make him a sailor," said Father,
"And he will adventure the sea."
"A soldier," said Mother, "is rather
What I would prefer him to be."
"A lawyer," said Father, "would please me,
For then he could draw up my will."
"A doctor," said Mother, "would ease me;
Maybe he could give me a pill."
Said Father: "Lt's make him a curate,
A Bishop in gaiters to be."
Said Mother: "I couldn't endure it
To have Willie preaching to me."
Said Father: ""Let him be a poet;
So often he's gathering wool."
Said Mother with temper: "Oh stow it!
You know it, a poet's a fool."
Said Farther: "Your son is a duffer,
A stupid and mischievous elf."
Said Mother, who's rather a huffer:
"That's right - he takes after yourself."
Controlling parental emotion
They turned to me, seeking a cue,
And sudden conceived the bright notion
To ask what I wanted to do.
Said I: "my ambition is modest:
A clown in a circus I'd be,
And turn somersaults in the sawdust
With audience laughing at me."
. . . Poor parents! they're dead and decaying,
But I am a clown as you see;
And though in no circus I'm playing,
How people are laughing at me!
poem by Robert William Service
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