Shyness is a blessing
i am shy
so is god's land
stripe it bare
and in no time
you find it hard
to cross even a path
without some obstacles
grass, shrubs and growth
in a frenzy to cover up exposure
shyness is a human endowment
from there modesty grow
from there rises civilisations and culture
like land that trades each inch of its barendess
with rice, flowers and fruits
inspired by
A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh, -no vehicle
Bears me along that way.
Emily Dickinson
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A little road not made man
A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh,--no vehicle
Bears me along that way.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The - Roads - to God
so many paths to Him
yet as many - man-made - lead to the other way
from the bible,
you travel by Eden
crosses Adam's path
that still smells of the evil snake and his misgivings
from the darma
you travel by the bodhi tree
and cross the spot of enlightenment
that still vibrates with the
buddha grace, so bright
non would be lost on the way to the Most High
by the new testament
you pass by mount calvary
tear spotted, blood spotted soil and stones
a cross still in sight
pointing all the ways to god
Christ would be there to tell
'Love your enemy' way to God
and from the Koran
far away in desert lands
mohammad would sum
it all up for you;
'submit totally to god
and you will be saved'.
- so many paths to Him
each path spawns questions
about the right one
unschooled women
fight over an answer
to a simple math
squabbling,
killing, blasphemising all the way
- god at the end of each road
runs
inspired by
A little road not made man
A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh, -no vehicle
Bears me along that way.
Emily Dickinson
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Road
Time...is the enemy of a young mans dreams
Im stranded...in the heartland, or so it seems
Im hitching a ride for a chance at the good life
Ill have my own place. out on fifth avenue
Im leavin this time gonna walk on that fine line
Ill be the first one who finally breaks through
One road to the promised land
I have to get there any way I can
One road to the promised land
Gonna find out just who I am
Freedom...do you know what I mean
Flatlands...are all Ive ever seen
Stuck in a small town where you live, then you die
Aint nothin but fools workin nine until five
Ill sleep in the subways till I get what I need
Im not gonna stay here, just lie here and bleed
One road to the promised land
Im gonna get there any way I can
One road to the promised land
Show the world just who I am
One road to the promised land
I thought by now Id be a different man
One road to the promised land
Guess I found out...just who I am
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Native Title
You are welcome to our country
When full respect is paid
To those who souls grew out from where
Their ancestors were laid
This land is our protector
This land our path in life
This land is our great comforter
This land is hurt by strife
Feel the heart that beats within it
As the seasons come and go
Feel the energy within it
From which everything does grow
This land will guide your footsteps
This land will feed you well
This land needs loving kindly
This land is not to sell
This land is just our country
This land is just our home
For its not just who owns this land
But whom this land does own.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is A Country
Japan is in the wind
her culture has been made
on the far east land
by the seasons in the wind from every direction
take rice for instance
without the rainy season in June
we wouldn't have that delicious rice in this world
clouds roll by to the east
I am sure your country also has unique culture on her own
I'd like to meet you and her
How Will You Go
Escape is on your mind again
Escape to a far away land
Sometimes it sems there is no end
To long hard nights of drinking
How will you go
How will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up
Cover it up
I'll find you a shelter to sleep in
Fell over on the couch again
But you know not all sleep is wasted
Your dreams are alcohol inspired
I can't find a better way to face it
How will you go
How will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up
Cover it up
I'll find you a shelter to sleep in
And you know I'll be fine
Just don't ask me how it's going
Give me time, give me time
'Cause I want you to see
That the world, that the world
Is a tangled up necklace of pearls
How will you go
How will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up
Cover it up
I'll find you a shelter to sleep in
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A bullock cart from Malacca
Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
every time
after a heavy downpour
You can no longer smell the tar
on a hot burning day
The road was too old
even the town council named it
the road to cemetery
A rural town
occupied by
Malay farmers,
rubber tapers
and pensioners
living in kampong
An enormous green paddy field
spreaded in the middle,
next to the road
Sandwiched by villager’s
Meranti wooden Atap houses.
To get to the town
walk your way
cycling
don’t miss the bus
or you have to wait
for another hour to get one
(you can take a pirate taxis that operate in odd hours)
Small streams crossed
at the center of the rice fields
The streams that supplied enough
fresh water fishes
for the villagers to consume
Vegetables are grown
like mushrooms
covering most of front and backyards
Fruits farm aplenty and became
local delights
whenever the season comes
Every house had their well,
as deep as 10 meter
with cold fresh water
being channeled from the nearby hills
The vast green land
were also scattered
with cows, goats, sheeps and buffalos
owned by the villagers.
In the evening
images of small kids
riding on buffalo's back
on the way to their homes
is a typical scene,
which needs to be captured
on films
for nostalgic reasons.
In the misty morning
where dawn had just breakout
villagers throwing
dried corns,
rice to the grounds
hungry poultry
feeds their way through.
School going kids
walked 3 miles to school,
cutting through plantations,
paddy field
for the shorten route.
The sound of azan
(calls for prayers five times a day required by Muslims)
Echoed from the surau and mosque,
could be heard across the village.
To own a vehicle is luxury
Bullock cart (wagon pulled by cows)
Was used in redundant
ferrying firewood,
rice sacks,
for shipment
to the town
sometimes ferrying villagers
to attend weddings
in the neighborhood
or just a bunch of cheerful kids
who like to have a ride
around the kampong.
I remembered
I was having a great time
taking a ride on this bullock cart
owned by grandfather,
going to town
whenever I paid him a visit.
I was 8 years old
Riding the time of my life
Befriended the bulls
Bonded
And sacred
Well, no matter how far I traveled
Having to live in big cities
Like London and New York,
The reminiscent of being part of kampong’s folk
riding the Bullock Cart
will still and forever (which I hope)
stayed remains in my mind
Thanks folks
for the memories.
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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September Flowers
September wild flowers grow free
Purple, yellow, lavender, all beam joy
Fall is starting to turn the sumac
A walk can be such a wondrous trip
The air is crisp and vibrant
Touches of red show in the maples
Geese land in slews and ponds
Oaks seem so noble and strong
Hills filled with lush life
Songs of an autumn moon
Radiant sun brings azure blue
Birch and elm reach for love
Greens of summer still rule
This path has many wild flowers
The lake will soon freeze
Meadows will cover with snow
Rain has made everything vibrant
Moss and pine trees grow mellow
Mushrooms glow with sunlight
Soft breezes make the leaves dance
Blue birds gather on a fallen tree
Squirrels gather their acorns
Great Cottonwoods loom like giants
Old logs, field grass, daisies
I sigh amidst the September flowers
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Will You Go
Escape is on your mind again
Escape to a far away land
At times it seems there is no end
To long hard nights of drinking
How will you go, how will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up, cover it up
Ill find you a shelter to sleep in
I fell over on the couch again
But you know not all sleep is wasted
Your dreams are alcohol inspired
I cant find a better way to face it
How will you go, how will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up, cover it up
Ill find you a shelter to sleep in
And you know, Ill be fine
Just dont ask me how its going
Gimme time, gimme time
cos I want you to see
round the world, round the world
Is a tangled up necklace of pearls
How will you go, how will you go
Drive through the wind and the rain
Cover it up, cover it up
Ill find you a shelter to sleep in
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orphaned Land - The Storm Still Rages Inside
The rain keeps on falling
Filling the dried land
It drinks the purity of life
(The) land starts to grow
It must be a sign
A message from God's hand
Like tears from the sky
Water begins its flow
Left alone, deserted so long ago
The storm still rages inside
Before the dawn rises I cannot see the light
This land's ground grows weak
Shall we find the path ?
The preacher's words were right
I can't see anyway to (the outer world)
Tears do flow, yet can't conceal
This land is barren, it does not feel
Our self-made slaughter
By our own hands
Here lies the orphaned land...
Suddenly lightning strikes the earth
It marks the sign of my rebirth
Seeds of love from myself evolve
This cannot be living - without (your) safety
The storm still rages inside...
Invisible rays penetrate the ground
This land to die is surely bound
Suffer but doesn't scream
Can this be a hopeless dream ?
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At cross road
Never but at cross road,
Are we at cross road?
Is there any load?
Why not we meet?
Even at cross road.
Are we blood thirsty?
And care for no one,
who may come but none?
Doesn’t concern everyone?
Even at cross road.
Can we not share?
Misery and poverty,
happiness and unhappiness,
hunger and roofless human,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut?
Burn the green forest,
and big trees,
do we want disaster?
Even at cross road.
Rain is scarce,
food also less,
nature is finished,
no bloom for ever,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut throat?
Merely for greed,
does the religion preach?
Priests or heads just teach
Even at cross road.
I may not survive,
peace may not revive,
nobody will also survive,
we will soon be extinct,
even at cross road.
Time is running out,
Still human race is not out,
We may still be in,
Kindness may be over,
Even at cross road,
Life is worth to live in,
forget not but just be in,
embrace but not embarrass them,
help but not reject them
Even at cross road.
We May still not adopt,
remain at large but not still opt,
is the nature so cruel?
Kill and get also killed?
Even at cross road
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is Your Land
This is your land
Its the way it was planned
Sky to the sea, something to see
Old ancient town, to the old people ground
I wanna know, something to go
This is your land, laid out in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Oh churches and steeples, big city people
I wanna know something to hold
Walk down the track, to the old railroad track
I wanna leave something to see
This is your land, laid out in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Money cant buy me
Money cant buy me
Ive got time
Time is on my side
You dont know what youve got till the whole things gone
The days are dark and the road is long
And when you walk away, the hope is gone
Tell me what is right, and what is wrong
Is this the way it was planned
This is your land, take it in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land, take it in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Words and music : simple minds reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wanderer (Der Wanderer)
I come from highlands down to shore,
the valleys steam, the oceans roar.
I wander silent, joyless here:
my sigh keeps asking, Where? Oh, where?
Their sun appears to me so cold,
their blossoms limp, their life so old;
and what they speak of, empty fare:
I am a stranger everywhere.
Where are you, land, beloved home?
Imagined, sought, but never known!
The land, the land, whence hope does flow,
the land where all my roses grow,
where friends shall never meet in vain,
where all my dead shall rise again,
the land that speaks my language true:
Oh land, where are you?...
I wander silent, joyless here,
my sigh keeps asking, Where? Oh where?
The specters answer my distress:
"Where you are not, there's happiness."
poem by Georg Philipp Schmidt, translated by Walter Aue
Submitted by anonym
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Leave the World Something Real
Expectations of excellence
Unveil the gardens of the soul
These flowers given in mystery
Generations spire into a living fire
Hands made of silk angels
Troubadours play on corners
Architecture reveals future visions
These children with eyes of stars
Dross is burned away in sorrow
Pure gold stands in the gallery
Steeples rise in the blowing wind
There in the sky we see a child’s mind
Grow you seeds that become great trees
Find your part - seek to grow
Rise like clouds in the blue
Blossom into the inward realm
Seek your call and listen to your dreams
What is love?
Growth is love
Using what you have been given is love
Everything you become that is real and true
Is real and true love
Being in love should be for all, man is a family
Even your personal life relates to the whole
The celebration that two are growing together
Fly into the world of growth
Become yourself with the color of growth
Michelangelo left us something
Emily Dickinson left us something
Rembrandt left us something
Mary Beecher Stowe left us something
John Lennon left us something
Search, learn, know yourself
Become all you’re meant too
Selfishness takes and takes
Love gives and gives
When a rose blooms isn't it wonderful?
Grow and grow and never stop
Leave the World Something real
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Foreign Land
It was a matter of fact that when I paid all my tax
I held my world in the palm of my hand
And all of my debts were causing me to defect
To a land of bananas and sand
So I ran, yes I ran, yes I ran to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am
Here I am in a foreign land
Im so glad we made it
I thought wed never land
I grabbed all my cash
And decided to dash far away
Far away, far away to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
Goodbye to all of the rich mans daughters
Goodbye to my debts now Im way cross the water
Far away, far away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am here I am in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
Please tell my mother and all my ex-lovers
That Ive finally made the grade
Please tell my debtors and the money collectors
That all of my bills will be paid some day
Im away, Im away, far away in a foreign land
Goodbye champagne and caviar set
I wanna slum and drink all the rum I can get
Im away, Im away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
But Im all out of my jack and I cant go back
Im away, far away, far away in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Road To Merryland
Travelling is travailing in the sea of life
The life one must aspire to enjoy
That travel to the abode of joy
Where the weak strengthens and the lads’ joy
Ti’s a journey where the eyes meet the sky
The horizon to find peace and shelter
But obstacles enroute too much to behold
Coz it’s a journey too short to be long
Started at wake of cock crow
When the goats had not chewed their last curd
The children not had their last milking spree
But the cranes were already stalled
Ti’s a journey to call a friend to squeal
A journey too rough to coo one to sleep
But obstacles too much to clog the mind
Coz it’s a journey too short to be long
Every junction, each leap an obstacle
Who planted such on this road to Merryland?
Must we face the hardship to success?
Obstacles everywhere and each with no meaning
Yet they must delay our trip to Merryland
A land flowing with milk and honey
A land where babies silence and bells ring
And a final place where hooray’s fills the air.
Obstacles each step of the way
Delays are inevitable to bear
Something for nothing must be given
Truly given in order to travel home
Obstacles of nature, obstacles of persons
What must be done to eliminate them?
Ti’s a journey short but long to behold
But one must bear the road to Merryland.
poem by Aron Lelei
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emily's Garden
The Red Tulips are so captivating--
And the Dandelions just seem to roar---
Astonishing Mother Earth-who'd just given birth--
To the Daffodils only just moments before;
The Yellow colour is so delightful--
That it all but drowns out the Buttercups hue--
Blazing like no other in the Garden----
They are what give this Garden its majestic view;
Let us not forget the Crocus standing proud---
Nor the Violet or Lilac in the Garden Glen---
A Purple Haze can be sooo insightful---
Most especially with the Lavender 'round the bend;
Oh sooo many colours complete it--
This Garden of the World-upon Gods Green Earth--
That i simply must take time to express it---
To say: 'Thank you' for all the flowers most glorious birth! ;
'She slept beneath a tree--
Remembered by me
I touched her cradle mute-
She recognized the foot--
Put on her carmine suit
And see'
Emily Dickinson
1830-1886
This is a dedication to: The exibition in New York
'Emily Dickinson's Garden: The Poetry Of Flowers
At The New York Botantical Gardens in the Bronx Borough
Of New York. It is opening a garden inspired by 19th century poet Emily Dickinson. The exibition runs through June 13,2010.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellowish Rickshawman's shuttle service in the colorful city and off limits
In the capital
This simple man with a loincloth
Poor fellow his name and he doesn't know
His date of birth.
Just think of your forefather's age.
His sweaty bare body
And broken ribs sadden,
The bare feet tempered under the burning Sun
And he's familiar with all the tar and gravel roads
From the court to brothel
And the Magistrate to Clerk
He has drawn them on his rickety cart.
Though the journey's hard
He never said tired.
Now he rests in a Pauper's graveyard
And his tumbledown antique cart the last will
Nobody has taken to the boasting Museum?
*Rickshaw (jinricksha) [ Jap. jin(man) +riki (power) and sha is carriage.]
A small two wheeled hooded vehicle drawn by one man or more men.
Originally used in Japan.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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