First Encounter - Amir Mohammad
Amir Mohammad
another writer his self
stuck in so many places
first met at the New Straits Times office in late 2011.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Encounter - Krishen Jit
Krishen Jit
his words of compliment
taste sweetest
not ready for compliment
sweet recollection
it has become
(first met in early 1980s at the New Straits Times Office, KL)
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Times
New times. new times. new times.
Good morning. good morning. good morning.
Im the guard. at one time
This was rather pleasant
The poets they still had to muse
Over the classicism of clean shoes
But who today still knows a button stick
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
The girls would lie down before us
First one went dancing, then behind the bushes
Today you have to run through twenty places
Get drunk on saccharin and methyl
And then you still dont get them that far
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
Now take it easy there in the early morning
Who arrives but the brethren from the press
If somewhere there lies a cadaver
Or something is foul in the state
You can be sure that a writer is not far behind
With his excellency I only say:
Hands off the literature
The laurel wreath one gets today
Second hand so to speak
>from the old empires stories
Sold underhand at the alexanderplatz
With all the wigs and costumes
Twitching from the shoulder one is informed
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
New times. new times. new times.
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My other Life
Some say I am a different man
when I leave this job for home
Different than when I’m here
in this place of glass and stone
I run the show at the office
but I am a Daddy every night
I am a Redneck on the weekends
but my baby thinks I’m all right
Those who claim to know me
all say I’m a little weird
but she sees the way I really am
when the rest of them aren’t here
Pickn at my keyboard
in place of my guitar
Stuck here in this office
instead of singing at the bar
I am a different man
when I leave this place behind
I walk away from the week
and lead my other life
I am a lot of different things
to a lot of different folks
some that really know me
and those that really don’t
I like to gather with my budds
and drink a few cold beers
Sing old songs till the crowds all gone
or until my mind is clear
I like rockn country music
and good home cooking too
I trust my old pickup truck
and respect the red white and blue
Clickn on my mouse
In place my guitar
Stuck here in this office
instead of singing at the bar
I am a different man
when I leave this place behind
I saddle up my pickup truck
and lead my other life
I’ve never quit my job
or walked out on my wife
I live just like my old man showed me
everyday of his hard life
I am a business man by day
a lover late at night
Sundays I bow my head to pray
but I am not afraid to fight
You may not recognize me
without my suit on anymore
I might be in my boots and hat
but I am just that guy next door
Pickn at my keyboard
in place of my guitar
Stuck here in this office
instead of singing at the bar
I am a different man
when I leave this place behind
I trade my tie for a cowboy hat-
and lead my other life
Sometimes I‘m sure it looks
like there’s two of me around
but when one of me is here
the other can’t be found
yea my other life
poem by Rusty Gibson
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The Good Times Are Killing Me
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stuck
I am dcf committed and stuck.
I don't what to do i am stuck.
I am alone in home with strangers.
I am unaware of any upcomming dangers.
I don't have a family to rely on.
I can only trust my mom.
I have been spit on and put down so many times.
I had swollen eyes from all the times i cried.
I am somewhere I don't want be.
I don't want people feeling sorry for me.
I am struggling to make it through.
I think of all the things I wish I could do.
I wish I could let people hear my voice.
Cause when I sing its an extraordinary and beautiful noise.
I wish I could meet my idol Gerard Arthur Way.
I know its bound to happen someday.
I am stuck wondering why.
why my father died.
I know people have it worst than me.
Thats why i try to be happy.
I am stuck and don't what to do.
I am stuck how about you.
poem by Jean Pullman
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Good Times Are Killing Me
MODEST MOUSE - The Good Times Are Killing Me
Album: Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stuck With You
Weve had some fun, and yes weve had our ups and downs
Been down that rocky road, but here we are, still around
We thought about someone else, but neither one took the bait
We thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
Weve had our doubts, we never took them seriously
And weve had our ins and outs, but thats the way its supposed to be
We thought about giving up, but we could never stay away
Thought about breaking up, but now we know its much too late
And its no great mystery
If we change our minds
Eventually, its back to you and me
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
We are bound by all the rest
Like the same phone number
All the same friends
And the same address
Yes, its true, (yes its true) I am happy to be stuck with you
Yes, its true, (yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
cause I can see, (I can see) that youre happy to be stuck with me
(yes its true) Im so happy to be stuck with you
Im happy to be stuck with you
Happy to be stuck with you.
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 13
A man used to shout superfluous calls to prayers in the mosque of Sinjar and in a voice which displeased all who heard it. The owner of the mosque, who was a just and virtuous amir, not desirous to give him pain, said: ‘My good fellow, in this mosque there are old muezzins’ to each of whom I pay five dinars monthly but to thee I shall give ten, if thou wilt go to another place.’ The man agreed and went away. Some time afterwards however, he returned to the amir and said: ‘My lord, thou hast injured me by turning me away for ten dinars from this place because where I next went they offered me twenty dinars to go to another locality but I refused.’ The amir smiled and said: ‘By no means accept them because will give thee even fifty dinars.’
No one can scrape the mud from gravel with an axe
As thy discordant shouting scrapes the heart.
Happy 2011
HAPPY 2011
H-ave
A
P-eaceful
P-rosperous
Y-ear
I trust that 2011 is going to be a year to remember
That from January to December
You are going to be blessed
That all will turn out for the best
You will win every test
Fix all that is messed
Restore broken relations
Have more patience
When times become tough
They will be overcome by love
You will give no place to fear
And 2011 will be an awesome year
Gods very best to you and your family for 2011
Love
Henry & Madalene 31 January 2011
Hebry Brown 31 January 2011
poem by Henry Brown
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Writer- a must?
Out of what does a writer write?
Out of hatred or perversion;
Out of denial or deprivation.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger or hatred.
To cry out from pain or lust.
How does a writer write?
By borrowing or distorting.
By modeling or duping.
For what does a writer write?
For an applause and a place.
It alone suits him, an idler.
What is the use of a writer?
For him to flaunt his skill.
For readers to idle away
Does the society need a writer?
Does a woman need cosmetics?
Writer is a part of civilization
16.05.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Celebrate Spring Today
Rejoice, my love, rejoice,
Its spring here, rejoice.
Bring out your lotions and toiletries,
And decorate your long hair.
Oh, you're still enjoying your sleep, wake-up.
Even your destiny has woken up,
Its spring here, rejoice.
You snobbish lady with arrogant looks,
The King Amir is here to see you;
Let your eyes meet his,
Oh my love, rejoice;
Its spring here again.
[Translated from 'Aaj Basant Manaalay']
poem by Amir Khusro
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Wasted Life?
it's home
school home
then home
office
home
office
no other places
to go
no other places dared
some white sandy beaches
for sometime
a trek on a steep mountain
sometimes
visiting old folks
no questions asked
but only feeling also their
sense of
loneliness
or lostness in this vast
field of humanity
poetry
walk in the morning
poetry
noontime breaks
siesta
dinner with wife
and sleep
dawn breaks
stunning thoughts
arresting the self
on what next to do
home
home
home
a boring life maybe
but i think
it is not wasted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Writer's Dream
A writer's dream
You keep trying
Never denying to one day achieve
Despite what most believe
A writer's dream
You never give up
Regardless of what others may say
But wait patiently until that day
A writer's dream
Although it's been a while
It made you smile
To see your dream coming through
No matter how long it seemed to you
A writer's dream
You always believed in yourself
That's why your time has come
To be a successful writer
With the privilege of making much income
A writer's dream
You're happy to finally get this far
The world knows just who you are
Now this new sudden fame
Makes you feel like a star
poem by Donielle Smith
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Late Cat
Late to train
Late to bus
Late to class
And late to party;
She is everywhere a late cat!
Late to eat
Late to sleep
Late to fate
And late to luck;
She is for everything a late cat!
Late to clock
Late to block
Late to dash
Against the truck
And, lo! Even late to death;
She is always a late cat!
poem by Sasikala Kamandula
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In Spaces Limited
So many are stuck in times,
Within locked minds fearing change.
Or the process that takes them...
Away to new places.
And experiences unexplained.
In spaces limited a rotation continues.
A rotation accepted with the sameness of it!
Like a rusting with dust given permission to oxidize...
Bright eyes dull,
Minimizing active lives.
Although a freedom is there to breathe and do it deeply...
Many prefer their familiar ruts.
With others who have given up.
To share and say what they would do...
If God would bless them with a stroke of good luck.
In spaces limited a rotation continues.
A rotation accepted with the sameness of it!
So many are stuck in times,
Within locked minds fearing change.
Or the process that takes them...
Away to new places.
And experiences unexplained.
Like a rusting with dust given permission to oxidize...
Bright eyes dull,
Minimizing active lives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Do Da Da
Every time I'm fallin' down
You take the reprecussions
Headaches and anxieties
Advancing my frustrations
Rushings of my depression
Sacrifice everything
Waste with me into nothing
Well now you're stuck with me
Stuck with me
Stuck with me
Hand up your soul to my wrist
And I'll vow my trust to you
Moving here I always thought
I realized you've imagined
Rushings of my depression
Sacrifice everything
Waste with me into nothing
Well now you're stuck with me
Stuck with me
Stuck with me
Rushings of my depression
Sacrifice everything
Waste with me into nothing
Well now you're stuck with me
Stuck with me
Stuck with me
song performed by by Green Day from Shenanigans
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can only assume that your editorial writer tripped over the First Amendment and thought it was the office cat.
quote by E.B. White
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poparazzi
tune
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
this is a tune the poparazzi
the who's who and the so and so's
this is a tune for the graven images of marilyn monroe
we saw your face on the magazine
we heard the song on the mp3
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
leave me alone
with your social lingo
you try so hard to stay on top
leave me alone
with your little jingle
with your picture perfect pop
we read the article in seventeen
we saw the video on mtv
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
pop will never leave you alone
noooo
this is a tune for the late nirvana
the teen spirit rock and roll
this is a tune for the velvet elvis's
on the 90210
i thought my eyes were gonna get off clean
till i read your lips on the tv screen
you were busy saying what you didn't mean
now everyone is singing along with your ridiculous song
you got it stuck you
got it stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hasty for a train
Hasty for a train
I see angels
fall from the sky,
stuck on branches
like fruits from Why.
Caught on a bad day,
surprised by a fool
who likes to trod
on petals' spread
the christals crack
like frozen pain,
a sigh, last cry,
a mud-clodded phantom
moves hasty for a train
-that always comes
too late to be caught-
passes by, bye..... 27-09-2010 Madrason
poem by Madrason writer
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