Dirt Sweeper is Time - Initial Version of Tipping Points
Man has reached a point in time
where he must choose before that choice
is forced upon him. Few rejoice
because the spectral pantomime
is faced with closure, cannot mime
a role with sense, nor find a voice
authentic underneath its grime.
Democracy has called the tune
since communistic threats appeared.
They, proving weaker than first feared, -
despite the missions to the moon, -
to dust dissolved are. Silver spoon
resumes his reign too highly geared
to cope with chaos which will soon
sweep the system, branches prune
which sturdy seem - soon to be sheared.
Enterprise has engineered
excesses while the baby boom
puts pressure on where once a boon
enhancing it was held, revered.
Restrictions? - Democratic doom.
It seems dream seams split one by one:
Social unrest, confusion, here.
There earthquakes, famine. Cracks appear
Inevitable. Time trap sprung!
Man machineseems out of gear,
Economies unbalanced, - fear
rampant that our race is run.
(8 October 1992)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Tipping Points - Current Version
Mankind has reached a point in time
where we must choose before that choice
is forced upon us. Few rejoice
because the spectral pantomime
is faced with closure, cannot mime
a role with sense, nor find a voice
authentic underneath its grime.
Democracy has called the tune
since communistic threats appeared.
These, proving bankrupt though first feared -
despite the missions to the moon -
are memory. Then silver spoon
resumed brash reign too highly geared
to cope with chaos which could soon
sweep system rash, crashbranches prune
which sturdy seemed - soon to be sheared.
Fee enterprise has engineered
excesses while the baby boom
puts pressure on retirement boon
though side-effects were once revered.
Restrictions? - Democratic doom.
Another paradigm's begun â€"
the Internet through peer to peer,
chiped 'end to end' will shipwreck steer
a universe which soon may stun
vested interests more than gun
or arms race as ambitions clear
oligarchies engineer.
It seems dreams' seams split one by one:
Social unrest, confusion, here,
there earthquakes, famine. Cracks appear
inevitable, Time trap sprung.
Man's machine is out of gear,
Economies unbalanced - fear
rampant that our race is run.
Who preaches 'tipping points' as seer
is spurned though 'civilized' veneer
is crackled - tackled not the queer
collateral damage far and near
which signal very loud and clear:
World warming warning, fishless trawls,
sea levels rise, man's leeway falls.
for initial version, see poem Dirt Sweeper is Time
(3 November 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Democracy?
Is democracy a dream?
The human race aspires to
such things are seldom as they seem.
Although the people have a choice.
They seldom think their choices through
and so the wishes which they voice.
Can be ignored and flagrantly
by those who hold the power reins
which they acquired dishonestly.
The voting system is unfair.
Votes do not carry equal weight.
The major parties do not care.
They are content to wait their turn
To ride upon the gravy train
enjoying perks they do not earn.
If every vote was made to count
Then that would be democracy
Hold politicians to account
for promises they make then break.
Perhaps it’s time to rectify
the present system: Which would take.
a social revolution
to institute democracy.
Instead of the confusion.
The rule of many by the few
who claim they have the peoples vote
A statement patently untrue.
The vote I cast has no value
in this so called democracy
Its very sad but very true.
(10-Oct-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Staging An Escape
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Some nights.
Most days...
I'm craving,
A taste of heated fever.
To save,
Myself...
From raging,
And staging an escape.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Some nights.
Most days...
I'm craving,
A taste of heated fever.
To save,
Myself...
From raging,
And staging an escape...
From you.
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
oooooooo
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's Come To This
And I found my head uncrowned and all life's sweet nectar flowing down
the cracks and seams wasted on some petty little prayers
And I
Reached up for despair but I was well below that cherished stage
And all
My mangled hopes all song unsung
I fear I've wasted all my sun
I fear I've wasted all my time
Everything is faded
Smiles are fabricated now
I fear I've wasted all my sun
I fear I've wasted all my time
Held my eyes closed for too long
And I ran out through the streets in hopes that I might find it there
But
All my buildings stared back at me tenantless and bare
And I
Reached up for the sky
song performed by by Fuel from Sunburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heralded Mega Earthquakes
epidemic season of mega earthquakes
is pending waiting sweeping continents
overdue earthquakes building pressure
global mega faults finally ready to snap
major cites sitting prone fear quake faults
awaiting dreading pending big one victims
suffer shock mega earthquakes tomb bencher
centuries massing weights reaper sprung trap
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fractured Moon
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
Fractured moon
Swallowed
By a flying dragon
With all fire and no fire
The fractured moon
Collapsed in doom
While the souls
Of the dead
Still roam
Closer and closer
Near the moon
Around the moon
Within the moon
Or what have left
From a
Fractured moon
Or maybe
Another Moon
Like a photo of
A bright image
Held by aging fingers
Of a woman
Praying in her
Upstairs Room
For “long” dead
Human loved form
Near the bolted
Green back door
Stood a ghostly figure
Of an old man
Weeping
In the silence of
An astral night
Trying for an opening
To reach her
Over and over
But in vain
For the woman
in the
Upstairs room
Darkness born
In the second shadow
Of a fractured moon
And light moulded
In the old house
In a special corner
of
A very special room
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
poem by Najib Altawell
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Its Come To This
And I found my head uncrowned and all lifes sweet nectar flowing down
The cracks and seams wasted on some petty little prayers
And i
Reached up for despair but I was well below that cherished stage
And all my mangled hopes all song unsung
I fear Ive wasted all my sun
I fear Ive wasted all my time
Everything is faded
Smiles are fabricated now
I fear Ive wasted all my sun
I fear Ive wasted all my time
Held my eyes closed for too long
And I ran out through the streets in hopes that I might find it there
But all my buildings stared back at me tenantless and bare
And i
Reached up for the sky, but it always seemed so far away
Transcendent thoughts you gave lie atrophied and broken
And I sat when I should have stood; swallowed when I should have spit
Until now I only recognize me in pictures taken long ago
And
All the changes simply haunt and never go away
A friend will tell when I hit hell, I may not feel the change
Held my eyes closed for too long
Held my eyes closed for too long
Just before I go dont you offer any sweet advice because where were all
Your shoulders when I needed them so long ago
And
Now with legs weak and weary from this silly dance
With a suitcase fulof memories, I pack my bags and slowly drift away
song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Referendum E E C
The vote is cast and lasting peace shall reign,
Harmony end cannon’s devastation,
Enkindle the untended flame help nation-
Role outgrow, the flame new fame should gain.
Eager economies may blend, obtain
Fresh rights to grow, hope sow to end negation.
Especial care is taken as from station
Rolls Europe’s train, advancing once again.
Europe changed is wise, is clear, is sane,
Nibs up to twelve without preoccupation.
Democracy, serene, can cut inflation.
Unlock Common Weal, business boom bars pain.
May man, from man apart, start hand in hand
ensuring growth throughout our Euroland.
19 September 1992 robi3_0600
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Priorities
PRIORITIES
Today’s priorities tomorrow fade,
dissolved, distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed one day before
turns sour before its zest to rest is laid,
incorporated into causal braid,
what’s left sewn through waft-weft of life’s rapports.
It serves no sense to fear what lies in store
for others, for oneself - life’s game is played
with Life itself, spurns Death's amoral spade.
Timed candle splutters, will f[l]ame rise once more,
or shroud itself in darkness, curtains draw,
veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid?
For passing sigh thrilled head’s held high, yet soon
both silver spoon and slum lie dumb, stilled tune.
f[l]ame = flame fame lame l'âme aim am me
3 December 2001 revised 10 December 2008
robi03_0974_robi03_0000 SXX_CDJ
for previous version see below
Priorities
Priorities today, tomorrow fade,
dissolved, distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed the day before
turns sour before appointed hour, is laid
aside by patterns Cause, Effect may braid
into the waft and weft of their rapport.
It serves no sense to fear what lies in store
for others, for oneself, - life’s game is played
with Life itself, spurns Death's amoral spade.
The candle splutters, will f[l]ame rise once more,
or shroud itself in darkness, curtains draw,
veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid?
For passing sigh-space head’s held high, yet soon
all is dissolved for slum or silver spoon...
3 December 2001
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born Without A Silver Spoon
I was born without a silver spoon.
On a raining day in the month of june.
We lived in a face me and face you,
it was a crowded neighbourhood.
Born without a silver spoon.
To have a three square meal
is like wishing for the moon.
Many times we bed the night,
cold night without food.
Without a silver spoon.
My father struggled me through school.
Primary, secondary and university
education i made it through.
A silver spoon.
My wish which must come true.
For i dream of it everday.
Think about those moves i'll make.
Praying to God for steps to take.
Though i was born without
silver spoon.
Yet if heaven be true,
my family's pain will not be vain.
I was born without a silver spoon
shall be erased.
To my generations it shall be a tale.
And only a silver spoon shall remain.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Sandrine Sonnet Cycle - Valiant
Should there be nothing new beneath the sun,
And each sensation mirror-imaged time,
Not fact, but fancy of the most sublime, -
Depending on those stimuli which run
Right through the system swiftly, scarce begun
In flash succession, then, encased in rime,
No more from store recalled. This pantomime
Expression of our dreams is like the sun:
Valiant now, and now eclipsed, undon! –
A vicious cricle, faceless clock, whose chime
Is out of tune, and whose diurnal climb
Leads round, repeats impressions one by one.
Lighthouse lantern is one smile, whose blaze
Approximates Nirvana, Threads my days!
Acrostic sonnet written 28 October 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Luci In The Sky With Demons
I'll spread me open, stuck to my ribs
Are all your infants in abortion cribs
You run like roaches, and you try to die
I know your poison, in our space we'll lie
To an obscene god we will dance and spit
The skin is thin, in our beds we sit
We take off our rings and we kneel
Our scabbed knees are so slow to heal
Stretch a little boy hole
For looking-glass people
I don't want to be me
I don't want to fear, no
Momma's got a scarecrow
Got to let the corn grow
A man can't always reap what he sows
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine)
Leave yourself to be ultra-here
The chill of fall is always crawling near
Spiders in the flowers
Never know their smell
The barbers here know secrets
They will never tell
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tennessee Moon
Written by: neil diamond & dennis morgan
Hollywood dont do what it once could do
I used to wake up and write me a song before noon
So I packed my dusty bags one night
Grabbed an old guitar and I caught a red eye(? ) flight
In search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
Makes me wonder, is it the same moon hank played under
Touched down and she stole my heart right away
Began to think for the first time I might stay
And when I heard that lonesome whistle moan
Knew Id finally found my way back home
In search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
And I wonder, is it the same moon hank stood under
When he sang about jambalaya and being lonesome enough to cry
And I can hear the echos in the sounds of his guitar
And his words still paint a picture in my heart
Yeah, in search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
I was in search of a dream underneath the tennessee moon
Yes, I fell in love with to old hank williams tune
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Campaign Song
Boom boom boom
Boon boon boon
Bane bane bane
Your campaign song
Is too loud, bane
I am riding on boon
Good and fine days
Ignorant of intended ways
Boom your campaign song
It was too loud, bane
I barely could manage
To hear your message
I voted for the other candidate
Your Boom song was too loud
It was good in our ears in June
But you sang it till December
That even kids should remember
I choose otherwise, voted you out
Is Campaign song bane or boon?
poem by Benjamin Paa Willie
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She Never Told Me She Was A Mime
When we first met she seemed perfectly normal
I never dreamed shed make my life so hard
You see, my baby, she started to change
Started lookin kinda strange
Wearin all that white makeup and those black leotards
Well, I guess she kept her little secret pretty well
Now, ever since I learned the horrible truth, you know my life has been a living hell
Thats right, you see...
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the time
She never told me, she never told me whe was a...
Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-mime
I wish we both could just talk it all over
But my baby wont even make a sound
Now she makes everybody sick
Doin that pantomime shtick
Even our old friends have stopped coming around
Well, mmy parents cant stand her and our neighbors hate her guts
Shes really, really embarrassing me... this silent treatments driving me nuts
You see...
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Now shes actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the time... what a crime
She never told me (she never told me) she never told me she was a mime
She walks against the wind everywhere we go
Stops at every corner, gotta put on a show
Carries round a picture of marcel marceau
Always the wuiet type, but how was I know to know?
She never told me she was a mime
She never told me she was a mime, oh no
Actin like shes trapped inside a big glass box all the ti-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yime
She never told me, she never told me whe was a mime
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statistically Speaking
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!
I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...
The taste of life,
Made of just frosted cake!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We treat ourselves and others like sheep!
To fleece the wool.
Because we're full of bull!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone,
Sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Noodles And The Silver Moon
Twas christmas time in Oxford street, we shopped for presents, trying to be discreet, carols and lights that end so soon, blue noodles and the silver moon.
The cobbled street's of Tunbridge Wells, each time we kissed, it rang the bells,
love is all, when all cocooned, blue noodles and the silver moon.
Riding elephants on a Thailand beach, tsunami heartbeat and gentle feet,
blood red sky and clouds that swoon, blue noodles and that silver moon.
Summer in Paris, arms entwined, I loved you so, for you were mine, caress the louvre, mime the rhymes, bastille gate's they sense a crime, wicked feats condemn and soon,
blue noodles shiver beneath frightened moon.
Barcelona nights of a fashion lust, a tapas dawn and velvet crush, sense foreboding and creeping doom, blue noodles choke by a crying moon.
So tell me then, what changed your mood? I hoped to seek of a heart turned crude,
we said goodbye and I thus conclude, farewell blue noodles, adios sweet moon.
poem by Fergus Michael Condron
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Bwtween two
forced to choose between the two,
forced to choose between honesty and dispair,
forced to choose between beauty and destruction,
forced to choose between life and death,
forced to choose between 3 years and 5 years,
forced to choose between who i am friends with,
and still with the choice of both i loose one.
poem by Matthew Boisjolie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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People Power. A rant.
The people’s voice so long suppressed.
Has now been forcibly expressed
Egyptians want democracy.
The world is waiting now to see
if their demands meet with success.
The winds of change are blowing free.
So tyrants sleep uneasily
They fear to hear the people’s voice
but really they have little choice.
If people choose democracy.
They can no longer rule by force.
Its time to take a different course.
The people have the power to
discard the old bring in the new.
By just resisting passively.
I have no doubt that some will die
As the dictators vainly try.
To cling to power at any cost
a battle that’s already lost.
The people will sweep them away.
The western world must wait and
see what happens next uneasily.
We have no right to interfere
although we have good cause to fear.
The power games that people play.
The world is changing rapidly.
Because of new technology.
Information is exchanged,
the internet has rearranged.
What people are allowed to say.
They have the opportunity
to state their views quite openly
For and against the government.
Although it seems that discontent
is the major force in play..
The peoples will is paramount
They will demand a close account.
From those they give authority
to take control and over see.
the changes that they need today..
Perhaps we too need to review.
A process which is over due
Our concept of democracy
at least our foreign policy..
We do not have the right to say.
What other countries ought to do
Because they are entitled to.
Do whatever they think best
to pacify the deep unrest.
the people have the final say.
If they decide to give assent
to a form of government.
Which may not be democracy
but suits the vast majority.
We have no reason for dissent.
We may quite well learn something new
That makes us take a different view.
Of the systems now in place.
By which we choose our government.
Which do not work as they were meant..
The powers that be may disagree.
Because they do not want to see.
The fault and flaws that now exist.
Although they preach democracy
They breach the rules in secrecy.
Although they may control the press
and the media more or less.
They can’t control the internet.
If they are wise they’ll recognise
That people can see through their lies.
Sunday,13 February 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Favorite Memory
The first time we met is a favorite memory of mine
They say time changes all it pertains to
But your memory is stronger then time
I guess everything does change except
What you choose to recall
There's a million good day dreams to dream on
But baby your my favorite memory of all
Like the night we first got together on our bench
And held each other tight
Like the winter we spent together
Helping each other and closer then ever
And I remember our special times together
And our walks and our lost time together
It was always you who made the whole time a ball
It was you who called me just to hear my voice
Theres a million good times
I could dwell on
But baby you are my favorite memory of all
and you'll always be my favorite memory.
poem by connie Engstrom
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