Flat earth theories
strange jarred with seasons' change range
question of degrees
haiku by Jonathan Robin (20 August 2009)
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Four Beautiful Seasons
Why there are seasons…
And this may sound strange…
Is to provide good reasons
To justify change!
With no seasons when would birds nest?
When would some fly away
Because winter's a pest?
And Fall colors would be held at bay.
Christmas might well end up in June.
With no seasons no one would care.
Then the cow would jump over the moon.
Now that might roust up a stare!
Luckily for many good reasons
There'll always be change
In four beautiful seasons…
And that's not at all strange!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Everything Changes
The flowers
The hours
The seasons
The reasons
The dirty pennies
The sweet cherries
The sour grapes
The naughty apes…
Everything changes
When one has no change
The ranges
The fringes
This is strange
Everything changes
The birds
The nerds
The smiles
The styles
The cries
The lies…
Things change
To reach the best
Or the worst
Range…
Everything changes
With time
The chimes
The rhymes
The mime
The laughs
The rafts
The pile
The vile
Things change
That's strange…
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Over The Range
Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed,
Playing alone in the creek-bed dry,
In the small green flat on every side
Walled in by the Moonbi ranges high;
Tell me the tale of your lonely life
'Mid the great grey forests that know no change.
"I never have left my home," she said,
"I have never been over the Moonbi Range.
"Father and mother are long since dead,
And I live with granny in yon wee place."
"Where are your father and mother?" I said.
She puzzled awhile with thoughtful face,
Then a light came into the shy brown face,
And she smiled, for she thought the question strange
On a thing so certain -- "When people die
They go to the country over the range."
"And what is this country like, my lass?"
"There are blossoming trees and pretty flowers
And shining creeks where the golden grass
Is fresh and sweet from the summer showers.
They never need work, nor want, nor weep;
No troubles can come their hearts to estrange.
Some summer night I shall fall asleep,
And wake in the country over the range."
Child, you are wise in your simple trust,
For the wisest man knows no more than you.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust:
Our views by a range are bounded too;
But we know that God hath this gift in store,
That, when we come to the final change,
We shall meet with our loved ones gone before
To the beautiful country over the range.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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A time pass
Time may silently pass and very easily
Still we may not feel wearily
We may spend it merrily
The rain may dash ground with showers
The garden may soon boom with flowers
We may have all the answers
This is complete cycle
There is change in circle
We brace up for it and are capable
It still looks fresh and new
Every season we may compare and review
All may remember it but missed by few
The ground may remain same
For seasons change we can't blame
It may bring happiness and fame
Love to like all the seasons
You know it and have enough reasons
It may vary from person to persons
Have we adapted for any future change?
How far we can adjust with any range?
Does it not look absurd and strange?
We are non committal in all the fields
Though it may be helping with more yields
We always go for protection and shield
Seasons do their work on simple basis
There is no particular reason or thesis
It is complete cycles which always persists
Adoption of change is good sign
One must understand and silently resign
It is not meant to suit any particular design
We are not meant here to alter the course
It is designed to have some change of course
You accept it as it is without any remorse
Change may not come appointed hours
Though it may be set during the years
We have to see it through eyes and hear through ears
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I want to change. (sad)
Im the way i am,
i cannot change.
I'd shoot for the sky,
but im out of range.
do you think im normal?
or do you think im strange?
go to the place ware people go,
and you'll see me in the firing range.
taking hits wile i move the targets,
just trying to rearrange, and to change,
the tings that drive people insane,
to change my life,
yet it remains unchanged.
poem by Poet of the River
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Change In Office
The change in office,
The change in government,
The change of the President! !
Change, range, strange, flange, grange, mange;
But, let us rather change for the better.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Void
I closed the doors to the Seasons
Leaving time void of any change
Leaving the Earth in solid limbo
Putting tomorrow out of range
Bringing a silent closing-if you will
A stillness to a barren view
I closed the door to all Seasons
Leaving nothing old-nothing new
Just an empty cavern-like abyss
A swirling of nothingness remains
Blank views are my past and present visions
Nothing will ever be the same!
poem by Theodora Onken
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I want change
This modern technology feeds the ignorant masses
With words and images more addictive than grasses
Since when did black become white?
Since when did wrong become right?
With each generation, race is defined
Pure black roots have been redefined
Skin colours are redefined in broad daylight
And the people vote out of sentimental plights
Strange!
I want change
I don't want a range of change
That rearranges my need for change
Dancing around is this global financial crisis
This is cracking up the world into pieces
A mixed-race making grounds is a stepping stone
But there is no pure black root high up the throne
Listen!
There is no black in the Whitehouse
Listen!
There is no female in the Whitehouse
It is a blinding mystery
How we so easily forget our history
The struggles and the fights for identity
The hope of stability and equality of sexuality
Strange!
I want change
But I don't want a range of change
That superficially rearranges my need for change
The stronger the root, the stronger the stem
There is no one who can solve our problems
The problem of starvation
The problem of population
Passed on from generation to generation
It does not matter who holds autonomy
On decisions of matters on the global economy
Until we learn to be considerate
As we copulate to endlessly populate
Food resources are facing extinction
Natural forces are on fateful missions
Man made curses introduce present institutions
There is no cure
Unlike before!
Strange!
I want change
But I don't want a range of change
That superficially rearranges my need for change
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Sadly Deceived
Today people are sadly deceived, by the issues men have conceived,
Believing theories construed by man, on issues they don’t understand.
Pointing to issues deep in the heart, playing upon fear right at the start,
Warning peoples of peril up ahead, filling hearts with fear and a dread.
Never do they look unto The Creator, Who is earth’s ultimate sustainer,
Not understanding all God ordained, through all ages will be sustained.
Giving God no thought or room, while painting scenarios of utter doom,
Denying The God of all of creation, as they lean on their on inclination.
They don’t understand who’s in control, of all the earth and every soul.
The theories these men fabricate, will not change this world or its fate.
The world created by a Flawless God, reigning above with an iron rod,
Where He laughs and scoffs at men; of the little that they comprehend.
They are big thinkers in their own eyes, but in God’s are far from wise,
Saying all life on earth shall end, because of global warming my friend.
A problem created on the earth by us, simple men created out of dust,
Cannot frustrate the Eternal Plan, of God Who created earth and man.
God doesn’t need man’s puny mind, to critique and change His design.
He needs to prepare for the day; earth is purged in God’s planned way,
By getting on God’s only plan, embracing not earth but the Son of Man.
If they choose never to believe, eternally they’ll remain sadly deceived.
Change?
Change,
Why happen to us?
Strange,
Why make a fuss?
Let it be,
Why not?
We'll see,
Or will we not?
Is it bad?
Do we cry?
Are you mad?
I see why,
You and change are no mix,
I can see,
I can see this,
You won't let it be,
Change, change,
Why? Why?
You think it's strange,
Oh why? I sigh,
Change can be great,
Change can be unbearable,
Change is fate,
Are you capable?
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Our Love Will Never Change
The world will change
But it’s happiness won’t change.
The people will change
But their smiles won’t change.
The seasons will change
But their beauty won’t change.
The days will change
But the sun and moon won’t change.
Just like the color of the pretty sky and snow
Our love will never ever change.
Personality
"Death is to us change, not consummation."
Heart of Midlothian.
A change! no, surely, not a change,
The change must be before we die;
Death may confer a wider range,
From pole to pole, from sea to sky,
It cannot make me new or strange
To mine own Personality!
For what am I? -- this mortal flesh,
These shrinking nerves, this feeble frame,
For ever racked with ailments fresh
And scarce from day to day the same --
A fly within the spider's mesh,
A moth that plays around the flame!
THIS is not I -- within such coil
The immortal spirit rests awhile:
When this shall lie beneath the soil,
Which its mere mortal parts defile,
THAT shall for ever live and foil
Mortality, and pain, and guile.
Whatever Time may make of me
Eternity must see me still
Clear from the dross of earth, and free
From every stain of every ill;
Yet still, where-e'er -- what-e'er I be,
Time's work Eternity must fill.
When all the worlds have ceased to roll,
When the long light has ceased to quiver
When we have reached our final goal
And stand beside the Living River,
This vital spark -- this loving soul,
Must last for ever and for ever.
To choose what I must be is mine,
Mine in these few and fleeting days,
I may be if I will, divine,
Standing before God's throne in praise, --
Through all Eternity to shine
In yonder Heaven's sapphire blaze.
Father, the soul that counts it gain
To love Thee and Thy law on earth,
Unchanged but free from mortal stain,
Increased in knowledge and in worth,
And purified from this world's pain,
Shall find through Thee a second birth.
A change! no surely not a change!
The change must be before we die;
Death may confer a wider range
From world to world, from sky to sky,
It cannot make me new or strange
To mine own Personality!
poem by James Lionel Michael
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And no bird sings fot new friend Mel
.
The breeze which rustles in the trees
assisted by the birds and bees
Whose interlacing melodies
produce pastoral symphonies
Which vary as the seasons change
and the musicians re-arrange
the notes to suit their vocal range.
I think it would be very strange
if suddenly there ceased to be.
The music which can set us free
from worries temporarily
and silence reigned; permanently.
The sound of silence echoing
instead of song birds carolling.
13/04/2007
Revised
18/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com /poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Song of Einstein!
No one is absolute,
No one can predict what is truth,
All theories are obsolete when new one come,
Theories after theories,
What they add to our knowledge,
Only possibilities of truth,
Faulty or erroneous,
Only keep interest and enthusiasm alive!
Theories are the logical and reasoning to predict what we can't think!
But how a theory can be built without a thought,
And a single wave of thought is enough to spoil all!
Like the pickle get spoilt with single dropp of impurity!
Any theory to be put into test,
By intellects and fools alike,
When fools scream something,
Intellects become deaf or act as wise deaf,
When intellect say something,
Their voice is misunderstood,
Faith and belief are such a cheat,
Which can poison any mind!
What is use of all theories,
What will going to change,
If not man understand, theories are made for men,
And not for any living being,
One who knew how to live,
Why to live and what is purpose of life,
All theories are waste,
Just one more to add to the junk scrap,
And wondering monkey mind to play with!
'Stupidity in men and universe are infinite, but I doubt the universe! '
Surely infinite is stupidity in men,
They never thought of me, whether this Einstein is one among them,
Or something different?
If they start think in right way,
they find they are stupid children playing with pebbles when heap of pearls and diamonds hidden by Lord in man's own heart,
Under the veil of stupidity and idiocy,
There lies the treasure,
Theories are not,
but the infinite pleasure,
I know this for sure!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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WHERE Is The Common Sense?
If there were degrees awarded,
For those earning diplomas in 'Incompetence'...
Few would question its existence.
It would be an established acknowledgement.
And since incompetence does exist,
WHERE is the common sense?
And at whose expense are those with degrees,
Trying to convince they now have achieved it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Genteel
Strange, range!
Elsewhere,
Genteel;
But please, let me know.
Range, strange!
But please, let me know when you are ready.
Tiles, gentiles!
Drunken birds,
Seen everywhere;
Trait, portrait!
Created after its kind;
Where, elsewhere!
To protect them;
Tile, gentile!
Don't you know that you're so beautiful? !
Like the muse of love.
Cord, record!
But, Yahweh is the Creator of all things;
Wells, dwells!
As numerous as the stars of the sky;
Steel, genteel!
But, i have now taught you how to do it;
So, you can now live alone.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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More Than Degrees
Mini-jobs and maxi-prices,
You are what you say you are!
But true love knows my name more than Degrees.
You are what you eat and i am what i eat,
But i am like Daniel in the lions den with my mind;
And true love knows my name more than the Degrees around me.
Life to some people is like the wind,
But others wait to see where it blows to;
And like your existing contracts on this earth,
But true love knows my name more than Degrees.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Admit the truth
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me, to my straight question.
At what time that day did you bring
Your wife from her bosses flat?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
At what home did you get your maid
Aborted and at what cost to save your pride?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
How many son-in-laws did you change
Before you set her in a wealthy lord?
Tell me the truth once in your life
Before you die a death of beach,
Having built your fort on illicit bricks.
Admit the truth at least only once.
20.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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End Of Innocence
The time is growing near for me to pack away my things and leave this life behind
And all the things I have known and all that Ive been taught are only in my memory
And Im not sure I want to go away so soon
Stomping grudges Ive known for all these funny years are really miles away
Im scared that well take five Im sure theyll fade in my mind
Im sure theyll fade in my mind
And Im not sure I want to go away so soon
Whoa whoa whoa away so soon...
The seasons change, our times move on
Ill always wish for days like these
The seasons change, our times move on
Ill always wish for days like these
The seasons change, and our times will move on
And Im scared that these are my best days
The seasons change, and our times will move on
But dont let these be mine
song performed by by Unsung Zeros
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change
Life’s strange
You fear me
You fear change
You prefer...
Home on the range
(ROTMS)
poem by Ray Lucero
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