Dr Reaper and the Death of Love
He diagnosed us nervous wrecks
And the reason for it was all sex.
The innocent things which we enjoyed
Were scrutinized and then destroyed.
Then when we suffered he was overjoyed
'We've come a long way since Sigmund Freud,
Since D.H. Lwarence and Wilhelm Reich,
Those thinkers that you used to like!
Do you remember 'Flower Power'
When Timothy Leary had his hour?
And don't forget the Human Soul,
Last refuge of the Romantic Fool,
This is the age where we CONTROL
And use our minds as an accurate tool!
Poetry is just empty words
That will vanish like the singing of birds,
The Earth will shrug off songs and dreams,
Everything's as empty as it seems,
The INTELLECT will be our God
And rule us with an iron rod! !
Stop thinking of that earlier time,
You know nostalgia is a crime,
The pleasures we had were ANALYSED,
Love's embryo was paralysed,
It's very simple, can't you see,
It's down to numbers, one, two, three,
There's no such thing as being 'free'
Not with MATHEMATICAL certainty! ! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Related quotes
Words of liberation for my nation
Chains of slavery are still over my people.
Notorious minds still over power innocent minds.
What can free the black child, what can free my nation?
I ask in pain and suffering in the dark jail cells,
What can free me from mental slavery?
How to know right from wrong?
How to think free and build a free society?
The solution is in the words of liberation, the words of wisdom.
I write and recite a revolution, my revolution my poetry.
I do n’t need praises or worship but only recognition and understanding of the people to words of liberation, understanding of poetry.
I stand before you to present poetry,
I stand before you to present the words of liberation to my nation.
Poetry that builds, poetry that destroys.
Poetry that destroyed the impious minds of colonists in Rhodesia.
I speak of poetry that built freedom in South Africa.
When I speak of poetry I mean the true meaning of words.
Words of wisdom,
Words of freedom,
Words of liberation,
Words to free my nation.
The words of liberation to my nation
Words of liberation to free my generation
Poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry-poetry.
poem by zimi Nakeni
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Solitude, Singing
Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things
Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
Transfixed by time.
poem by Rani Turton
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Singing Birds Are Endangered Species!
Singing bird's songs
enjoyed,
wonderful melody, wonderful words,
Rhapsodical Sometimes,
More often romantic!
A power hungry,
another powerful
both listen a while,
They want the bird to sing for them!
Now the bird has to stop singing,
Or should think of flying far away!
Power hungry will kill
or powerful will,
Singing bird ability of throat
Is its own enemy,
Two hands are ready to squeeze,
Two blades ready to cut,
Singing bird's throat often
squeezed,
Several died,
not even found in history,
they fear even that bird's story!
For it sings only truth,
Singing birds throat is cut,
Because it can't keep its mouth shut!
Poor bird! Its talent,
gifted voice became
its own enemy,
Not even they are listed
Though singing birds are endangered species!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Railroad
Along the iron rails
Plod still with panting power,
Range still the empty trails
Hour after hour;
Stare still where looms ahead
Each signal-skeleton,
Whose jerking arms forbid
Or bid you on,
Whose grim lamps rule the glooms
With stringent red or green—
Forget your sunny home's
Wild-paths between
Primrose and violet,
Your breeze-lit fields of rye...
Your golden sheaves forget—
Forget, or die.
poem by Elizabeth Daryush
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Legend Of A Mind
Timothy learys dead.
No, no, no, no, hes outside looking in.
Timothy learys dead.
No, no, no, no, hes outside looking in.
Hell fly his astral plane,
Takes you trips around the bay,
Brings you back the same day,
Timothy leary. timothy leary.
Timothy learys dead.
No, no, no, no, hes outside looking in.
Timothy learys dead.
No, no, no, no, hes outside looking in.
Hell fly his astral plane,
Takes you trips around the bay,
Brings you back the same day,
Timothy leary. timothy leary.
Along the coast youll hear them boast
About a light they say that shines so clear.
So raise your glass, well drink a toast
To the little man who sells you thrills along the pier.
Hell take you up, hell bring you down,
Hell plant your feet back firmly on the ground.
He flies so high, he swoops so low,
He knows exactly which way hes gonna go.
Timothy leary. timothy leary.
Hell take you up, hell bring you down,
Hell plant your feet back on the ground.
Hell fly so high, hell swoop so low.
Timothy leary.
Hell fly his astral plane.
Hell take you trips around the bay.
Hell bring you back the same day.
Timothy leary. timothy leary.
Timothy leary. timothy leary.
Timothy leary.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Insecurities Of Aging...
the more you age
the more you keep things to yourself
old and new socks are mixed up in one wooden cabinet
somehow you are not using any
it is just the keeping for keeping sake
you are not thinking of any heir of any shoe
you begin to emphasize the importance of empty containers
how each must be filled
an empty cup must have coffee to its brim
an empty room must have someone to talk to
and empty road shall have at least one car making a dusty path
the empty stairs are too fearful to look at
how you hate an empty chair
it can make you sick if no one sits in there in another hour
the hours can be empty too
how can you stop the arms of the clock from taking away the sound
of ticking?
you are sensing a terminal
the train must be full so that you can never experience the
palpitations of being alone
you can hear it like the sounds of korean drums
the cascading waterfalls
the horns of taxis in city traffic
do not dare to stop the inevitable
i assure you... you can't. So? get yourself attuned
have an empty cup and learn to drink from it
you must feign the satisfaction of thirst, because
it can't be long.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Think
Imagine if I said I sometimes need you
I need you to this day.
Imagine if I said I sometimes hear you call my name.
Imagine if I said I still could love you.
Imagine what youd say.
Imagine if I said I sometimes still can see your face.
Think about all the things we shared.
Think about all the times we cared.
When all of your hopes have come and gone,
Think about me and Ill be there.
Theres something in the air that feels like winter
The kind we used to know.
Yesterday can seem like such a long, long time ago.
Who could ever count the miles between us?
But now I know its true.
Imagine if I said that all my dreams were dreams of you.
Think about all the things we shared.
Think about all the times we cared.
When all of your dreams have come and gone,
Think about me and Ill be there.
Think about images weve drawn.
Think about all those empty songs.
Whenever youre sure that I wont dare,
Think about me and Ill be gone.
It took me a long, long time to learn
That love is a thing you have to earn
I finally realized its true
I just cant make it without you
Think about all the things we shared
Think about all the times we cared
When all of your dreams have come and gone
Think about me and Ill be there
Think about images weve drawn
Think about all those empty songs
Whenver youre sure that I wont dare
Think about me and Ill be gone
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intellect
You might have possessed so many things
The stars, the sun, the moon, the whole universe
But if you have not possessed me
You possess nothing!
You are a blunt, a dullard dull
The beggar of the street.
You might be proud of so many things which
One can't have today but tomorrow can
And all these things dwindle when you distribute
But I am the exception and the opposite
The maximum use of anything is a poison
But I become the nectar if you use the maximum
You might have written on so many things
from hell to heaven
You might have composed so many poems
from complex to simple
But if you have not on me,
you have written or composed nothing!
you are neither a poet nor a writer.
you have not achieved anything either!
You might have believed on so many things
But if you have not believed me
You have believed nothing
As I am the unbelievable to believe
The strength, the power
If you hone me
I cut, cut very sharply
I create, create very absolutely
I can give the desires the wings
I can make fly the colorful dreams..
So hone me, hone me! hone me!
You might have sung so many songs
But If you have not sung the song of me
You are not a singer
You are a deaf!
You are a dumb!
So sing intellect! intellect! intellect!
Sing intellect! intellect! intellect!
The creator of every human creations
The inventor of every inventions
The real power, the real beauty
The real achievement of human history.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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After All Hymn
After all I am human
And I get mad sometimes
Sometimes it is hard for me to think of something else in
Order to get rid of my anger
But I think I have to replace it with poetry
Poetry is my life
And I live writing poetry
Is poetry just a scribbling that doesn't make sense?
No
Poetry are feelings that are wrtten on a piece of paper or in the computer Scream
Poetry makes sense because every word I carefully select
And there are other words that might pop out of my mind
That I connect with the words in my heart
Do I use strong words in my poetry?
Yes I use strong words
Do I offend my readers with the words I pick?
That Is something that I try not to do
AAafter all
I am human and I do make mistakes
But after I make mistakes I try to move to the next step so I never get Stuck with my mistake
Yes poetry is my voice that is a message that I am trying hard to give to My readers
There are so many different styles of poetry
Haiku, rhiming, and free style
But I always stick with the free style of poetry
I find that it is the style that sooths me just fine
After all
I try very hard to live a modest life that is very plain and simple
From the one I lived 16 years ago
What is wrong to live a life of luxury to me?
First I need to have the money to live a luxurious life
The second part is that I don't want anything to do with a luxurious life
Because I am happy living my simple life
And I hope to live that simple life forever
I want to have dreams only and I don't wish them to turn into reality in My Life
Because I know that my dreams will be dreams
No I can't sell my dreams
Because my dreams are only fantasies that I face every night when I sleep In my bed
And after all I will always be human
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Just Another Empty Memory
Days we woke up together
and I held onto your hand
two lovers lying in the warm summer sand
with the smell of a passing rain in the air
thinking about the times of forever
that we would always share
And all those nights we sat outside
by the glimmering of a open fire
and would talk about our plan
in you I would always confide
my every thought of my only desire
But now all I seem to see
is just another empty memory
of everything that use to be
wondering about what we have become
A smile upon your face
a soul never lost out of place
shining like the morning sun
with moonbeams in your long brown hair
you would walk in harmony
always feeling free
was a time you saw everything in me
But now all you seem to see
is just another empty memory
of everything that use to be
wondering about what we have become
So you hide behind your tears
trying to forget those lonely years
lost inside your doubt and fears
watching it all come undone
while the time only slowly disappears
Still we both keep moving on
though our dreams are all gone
like words from some forgotten song
knowing beside each other
is where we both belong
But now all we seem to see
just another empty memory
of everything that use to be
wondering about what we have become
(spiritwind-2010)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Wise Fool
You my dear are such a fool
You say this is wrong, so is that
Yet you make human feelings a tool
You control them with fear such a wise rat
But you never thought
That although you have fear
There are others that have been taught
And into your heart we will peer
You are deaf, listen to no-one
And care only for yourself
Do you truly think this war you have won?
You are a human yet you show the devil itself
Your power is a double-edged sword
It will never totally bend to your will
You can see you sanity, a broken cord
Now this wise fool is made to kill
We will never fall
You can’t supress us forever
We will once again stand tall
You power will fail no matter how clever
See now your control is lost
See now this battle ends
For you it will cost
No longer supported by friends
Your truths all lies
Your very thoughts a crime
All your people break their ties
The years you ruled were such a depressing time
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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Holding On
See the searching...
See the people...
Out in the darkness and soul searching
Did you find what we had lost?
All this time Ive got to thinking about the promises;
How long this energy of winter?
How many times that we could never love?
How many times is time enough?
All the foolish notions: when well die thats all that is.
We can never really understand the broken promises.
All along we run together (remember? )
All along we run as one (remember? )
When you find a perfect union, youve got to follow it.
Stop that reasoning (youve got the answer)
Stop that thinking out loud! (youve got the answer)
Go where your heart takes you to (youve got the answer!)
Youre not that innocent! youve been around!
Youre not that innocent...
Got to be right; got it coming to you.
How many times is time enough? (time enough...)
Your time is just beginning out of all where we came from.
Holding on: this point receiving; there it is, there it is, there it is
Holding on, can you remember
Holding on, was it ever like this?
Holding on, its the most important thing.
It was the first time that I saw you
It was the first time that I knew
Out of all my disbelieving,
Holding on, I was holding you.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holding On
See the searching...
See the people...
Out in the darkness and soul searching
Did you find what we had lost?
All this time Ive got to thinking about the promises;
How long this energy of winter?
How many times that we could never love?
How many times is time enough?
All the foolish notions: when well die thats all that is.
We can never really understand the broken promises.
All along we run together (remember? )
All along we run as one (remember? )
When you find a perfect union, youve got to follow it.
Stop that reasoning (youve got the answer)
Stop that thinking out loud! (youve got the answer)
Go where your heart takes you to (youve got the answer!)
Youre not that innocent! youve been around!
Youre not that innocent...
Got to be right; got it coming to you.
How many times is time enough? (time enough...)
Your time is just beginning out of all where we came from.
Holding on: this point receiving; there it is, there it is, there it is
Holding on, can you remember
Holding on, was it ever like this?
Holding on, its the most important thing.
It was the first time that I saw you
It was the first time that I knew
Out of all my disbelieving,
Holding on, I was holding you.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Earthly Paradise: Apology
Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing,
I cannot ease the burden of your fears,
Or make quick-coming death a little thing,
Or bring again the pleasure of past years,
Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears,
Or hope again for aught that I can say,
The idle singer of an empty day.
But rather, when aweary of your mirth,
From full hearts still unsatisfied ye sigh,
And, feeling kindly unto all the earth,
Grudge every minute as it passes by,
Made the more mindful that the sweet days die--
--Remember me a little then I pray,
The idle singer of an empty day.
The heavy trouble, the bewildering care
That weighs us down who live and earn our bread,
These idle verses have no power to bear;
So let em sing of names remember{`e}d,
Because they, living not, can ne'er be dead,
Or long time take their memory quite away
From us poor singers of an empty day.
Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time,
Why should I strive to set the crooked straight?
Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme
Beats with light wing against the ivory gate,
Telling a tale not too importunate
To those who in the sleepy region stay,
Lulled by the singer of an empty day.
Folk say, a wizard to a northern king
At Christmas-tide such wondrous things did show,
That through one window men beheld the spring,
And through another saw the summer glow,
And through a third the fruited vines a-row,
While still, unheard, but in its wonted way,
Piped the drear wind of that December day.
So with this Earthly Paradise it is,
If ye will read aright, and pardon me,
Who strive to build a shadowy isle of bliss
Midmost the beating of the steely sea,
Where tossed about all hearts of men must be;
Whose ravening monsters mighty men shall slay,
Not the poor singer of an empty day.
poem by William Morris
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Fallen, Empty, And Broken
fallen soldier
fallen sky
fallen angel
from on high
fallen heartache
fallen soul
fallen man
losing control
empty bed
empty arms
empty dreams
empty heart
empty wallet
empty hands
cant take nothin'
from an empty man
broken promises
broken vows
broken spirit
wont allow
broken fences
broken lives
broken tomorrows
broken nights
fallen, empty, and broken
every road is the same
bent, bruised, and shaken
still numb from the pain
now you dont answer
when i call out your name
fallen, empty, and broken
walking in the rain...
fallen, empty, and broken...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I'm My Own Prisoner (Revised in Line Form and Viewable)
A demon walks free in my dreams.
Is it right he does so?
So many answers I shall never know.
Always alone in surroundings so compounding.
How do I wash my hands clean?
They continuously bleed.
It's like I have sickle cell anemia, but psychologically.
What is my methodology behind it all?
If I keep helping reaching out through all the crowds, does it make it easier? What is it and do I control it?
Is love that powerful.
Can it rule hate?
Can anyone relate to the these thoughts I constantly contemplate.
An empty soul behind an iron gate.
Locked away forever never be set free.
It's irony that I'm my own prisoner to protect the most evil and vile from harm. Most can't do what I'm doing they would snap like itty bitty twig.
Does that make me the better man?
I definitely hope it can cause if it don't I'm already damned.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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8
what appears is what it is
that is how simple it is
and how beautiful can it be
a petal of a flower is nothing
but a petal of a flower
falling to the ground on a
windless day
caused by no other than
this pull of gravity
we watch a world unfolding
we only use words because there is a need to write
what beautiful thing we have seen
but there is more to the simplicity of all these things
those that we have seen and felt and
cannot completely tell you
even in the most simple words of our poetry
the experience of beauty is so personal
like how i experience the poetry of the heart
it is like this, no, it is like this... words fail now
(........)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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12
what appears is what it is
that is how simple it is
and how beautiful can it be
a petal of a flower is nothing
but a petal of a flower
falling to the ground on a
windless day
caused by no other than
this pull of gravity
we watch a world unfolding
we only use words because there is a need to write
what beautiful thing we have seen
but there is more to the simplicity of all these things
those that we have seen and felt and
cannot completely tell you
even in the most simple words of our poetry
the experience of beauty is so personal
like how i experience the poetry of the heart
it is like this, no, it is like this... words fail now
(........)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words.... (Poetry Itself)
words do not heal the broken hearted,
words do not end wars.
words do not change the face of indifference,
words do not impress god!
words do not feed the hungry,
nor set the captives free.
words do not give shelter to the homeless,
or hope to those ridden with despair.
words do not stop discrimination,
words do not bring justice.
words do not bring forgiveness,
nor do they bring understanding...
words do not fill the empty,
nor erase the scars of love...
words do not define dialogue!
it is only then,
the hands and feet of the human heart...
and poetry itself is nothing more,
than the action of involved compassion!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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