old nun examines bald head
and wonders her life
has been as empty
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Basically, they had asked me if I would shave my head or wear a bald cap. I said look, if you are doing a series for five years I would want to shave my hair because I would go bald with all the gum and glue from the bald cap.
quote by Persis Khambatta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cravat Or Turkey Neck
The visible signs of ageing
the bald head
I've been nearly bald
since my early
twenties
the Friar Tuck grey hair
the last remnant
of a great teenage
Elvis pompadour
the turkey neck
I could disguise
with a cravat
but that's not me.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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From Childhood To Manhood
He wonders why his emotions come out.
When things in his life does not go right.
Demons that he struggles with and fight.
He wonders why his childhood family have stop communicating with him.
He wonders how things have change when we have matured.
He wonders how fast that his life went by sometimes he cry when
someone special die.
He have dreams of close people that he wish that was still alive.
He wonders why some of the people that he loved have left.
He wonders why its tough to make it in life but its really hard to go through death.
Memories that he love most that ended bad.
Which he truthfully knew that person who he could get along with the most out of any other person.
His heart is sunk down, but he is truthfully hurt with so much pain.
Sometimes he feels that things will never be the same when it rains.
He wonders why his friends that are alive have change since we grew.
All that matters if only that they knew.
Money never matters to him.
Because his family and friends was his support that makes him have a strong heart.
He wonders how will he die only time will tell as years pass by
He only live by the truth not by a lie only whats real that meets the eye.
poem by Anteaus Berryhill
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Anthem
Words and music by geddy lee, alex lifeson, and neil peart
Know your place in life is where you want to be
Dont let them tell you that you owe it all to me
Keep on looking forward, no use in looking round
Hold your head above the ground and they wont bring you
Down
Anthem of the heart and anthem of the mind
A funeral dirge for eyes gone blind
We marvel after those who sought
New wonders in the world, wonders in the world,
Wonders in the world they wrought
Live for yourself -- theres no one else
More worth living for
Begging hands and bleeding hearts will
Only cry out for more
Well, I know theyve always told you
Selfishness was wrong
Yet it was for me, not you, i
Came to write this song
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Journey To Lisbon
Winter Journey to Lisbon
Up rua Garrett I walked and it’s steep, in Baixa, the old heart
of Lisbon, past a shop that sells lottery tickets that sits beside
a shop that sells religious artifax, which is next door to a shop
that sells Cartier watches, if you buy a ticket and win, there is
money to decorate you mother’s grave and to buy a watch for
yourself. At the top of the street there is café Brasilia it used to
be Fernando Pessoa’s drinking den, the place is full of solemn,
nice Portuguese who, dressed for the occasion, drink nice cups
of coffee, their forefathers used looked down on Fernando,
irreverent poets and writers must go and drink elsewhere.
The master poet is now a statue sits outside in the rain and has
his picture taken by tourists, one wonders what he thinks of it all
as he sees the statue of Antonio Ribero Chiado, a poet who lived
in the sixteen hundred, the Largo is called after him he is bald and
is dressed like monk. From Largo Chiado I could see the harbour
where tug boats ply their trade on grey waters; the church
“Incarnacao” where Antonio used to pray is beautifully restored,
but empty god had left by the backdoor, the front door was too
heavy, but I saw woman weeping near a statue of Christ, “opium
for the people? ” Yes, why not?
It is getting dark the Portuguese are swallowed up by the Metro
as middle aged men with folded cardboard boxes, look for a shop
doorway where to bed down; and over this scene hovers Amalia,
the great Fado singer, she came from poverty too, famous in her
own life time she had the sense to be a friend of the powerful and
made it to the top. When her friends toppled from power she was
out in the cold, but not for long the Portuguese quickly forgave her.
Fine rain falls on Fernando’s hat and Antonio’s bald head, empty
streets the city sleeps and leaves the space to cats, the sleepless,
whores and their sad clients.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Norway
The wonders of Norway!
Age should speak and,
Many years ought to teach wisdom;
Look to the heavens and see,
The clouds are higher than you.
Of the deep sleep that fell unto man while,
He slumbered on his bed;
Oh Norway! Beautiful as you are,
I need to visit you again.
The wonders of Norway,
My days passed swifter than a courrier;
The wonders of Norway,
A momentary perception of joy;
The wonders of Norway,
Out of the handsome came beautiful;
My ears have heard of you and,
My eyes have seen you too;
I need to visit you again.
Can you pull Babylon with a fish hook?
Bring forth the blind who have eyes;
Can you walk on your head?
Bring forth the dearf who have ears;
Visit and know the wonders of Norway,
It will always be with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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We Do Live As Children Of Light
We do live as children of light,
hold happy parties in the night,
with a compatible lovely one,
we find wonders under the sun.
Far too quickly our lives go out
we do not know what it’s about
but sometimes there is nothing won,
we find wonders under the sun.
In life someone is our treasure
with whom we share pain and pleasure
and life has both trouble and some fun,
we find wonders under the sun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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An empty head is not really empty; it is stuffed with rubbish. Hence the difficulty of forcing anything into an empty head.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leise Rieselt Der Schnee
Leise rieselt der schnee,
Still und starr liegt der see.
Winterlich glnzet der wald:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald!
In den herzen ists warm;
Still schweigt kummer und harm.
Sorge des lebens verhallt:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald.
Bald ist stille nacht.
Friede auf erden erwacht.
Horch nur, wie lieblich es schallt:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Drops Of Dew
Bound by earth and sky
The particles of darkness
Of my existence
Got crystallized into
Fertile dew-drops.
The thin clouds
Of scattered dew-drops
In the womb of an
Unfathomable vacuum
Assembled in ones and twos
Over my semi-bald head,
Promising a heavy downpour
On the pale leaves of grass at my feet,
During an autumnal twilight.
I was really amused to perceive
How those mere dew-drops
Could regenerate
So much greenery
Here, there, everywhere
And even on my bald- head.
At a distant horizon
On the dark boughs
Of a parched gulmohar tree
Red petals appeared
And singing birds perched
And surprisingly I could hold
The fragrance of thin hairs
Grown around her nape
With a solid passion,
Singing nursery-rhymes
To utmost perfection.
In the empty corridors of my ribs
Broken desires and disabled opportunities
Raised their wrinkled scalps
For a few drops of dew.
I really marvelled
At the sight of those dew-drops
Of such multiple colours
Creating a cascading effect
In their beauty and significance
Which I adored
And many a time imbibed.
But, alas! I didn’t know
Such ethereal dew-drops
Could feel so insecure
Merely at the sight
Of a pregnant eastern sky.
The Ricefield After The Harvest Season
bald the field is
empty of its grains
like a no man's land
there exists
this feeling of
satisfaction after
the season
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
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Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.
quote by Matthew Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disappointed for M lady Ernestine
The Jackdaws are excitedly
feasting on the cast away
remains of someone’s takeaway.
Discarded by them thoughtlessly.
They’re squabbling vociferously
as they jostle for the best place
and very soon there is no trace
of the feast provided free.
The plastic tray is now quite clean,
then they fly off in search of more
It is as if the food had never been.
But one latecomer lone jackdaw
examines the now empty tray.
Squawks his disgust and flies away.
8-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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You don't find me too bald, do you? Old, and bald, and with a belly?
quote by Julio Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The right moment wears a full head of hair: when it has been missed, you can't get it back; it's bald in the back of the head and never turns around.
quote by Francois Rabelais
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Once Had The Body Of A God.
Now I'm a fat old sod.
Too many cakes and cream buns,
Around my fat chair are too many crumbs.
Once with the hair of a star,
I could have gone far.
Now the head is bald,
And the girls' no longer call.
The skin is red and blotchy,
And my temperament rather crotchety.
I walk the length of our house,
And want to sleep like the church mouse.
If you think I'm a cranky man presa,
You should see me on a bad day!
I'm down on myself and can't stand my ways,
The memory of the body beautiful is a haze.
Maybe tomorrow will see me in a better frame,
My humour may return but not betting just the same.
I could measure the possibility by chain, perch, or rod,
But I'll just be the same bald, cranky, blotchy, crotchety old sod.
RKH 29/08/2012 2: 17 PM