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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Related quotes
Mistaken Priorities - 0973 - Current Version
Mistakes we made are coming home to roost.
too little energy remains to boost.
A la recherche du temps perdu we flee
another act's attacked, the will to see
is often absent from the script, see Proust,
as 'havoc and the guns of war' are loosed.
We flee towards an end both known, unknown,
follow a path which our own past has sown,
here straight, there stony, everywhere its key
to city_zen in tune with Destiny
inscribed in cyphered symbols should be shown
not cast away, wind willy-nilly blown.
But fear of fear too often dissipates
impressions outlined by the hand that Fate's
swift moving finger writes for clarity,
when blind eye's turned, and spurned self charity,
then senseless seem priorities, debates
are blurred where truth all pride of place vacates.
When writing on the wall anticipates
the fall to come, the storm which tumbles dates
from palm oasis in whate'er degree.
mistakes are made as visibility
is lacking, insight dawning far too late
to save the game that Time's tides terminate.
the current lack.
Some look for truth, if truth there be, yet wait
on miracle that must emancipate
the will to change uncertain outlook find,
toil, trouble, hubble-bubble left behind.
But many fool themselves, prevaricate,
berating blindness they'd eliminate.
There's none so blind as those who will not see,
refuse to act where fact is found to be
in contradiction to lip-service paid
to hope for scope and insights wise obeyed
for actions much delayed must compromise
success where false excuse opt out supplies.
Today's priorities tomorrow fade,
turn sour before their zest to rest is laid,
dissolve distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed one day before,
incorporated into causal braid,
is trumped with basic instincts disobeyed.
Veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid
divorced from light by self-inflicted shade,
with passing sigh to signify too soon
both silver spoon and slum lie dumb, stilled tune.
Mistakes unmended leave man's world afraid
of shadows lack of confidence displayed.
What's left, sewn through waft-weft of life's rapports,
serves not, rots vision clear, fears what's in store
for others, for oneself - life's game is played
with Life ignoring Death's amoral spade.
Timed candle splutters, fame, flame rise no more,
darkness enshrouds those who hope's shutters draw.
(8 April 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Global Idol Idyll - 0973 - Current Version
What were priorities of yesterday?
Subsistence fraught with much fragility,
man's coil unshuffled soon, as end of play
stem cut from rose bloom, life-expectancy
short, caught in superstition cowled in grey,
or shaman stripping Easter Island's tree.
Fee none avoid when piper waits on pay.
Mistakes men made are coming home to roost.
A la recherche du temps perdu most flee
too little energy remains to boost.
Vision absent, in new century,
this global village veers off script: see Proust.
Pollution, pillage, menace land and sea,
as 'havoc and the gods of war' are loosed.
We flee towards an end both known, unknown,
here straight, there stony, seldom seem in key,
follow a path which our own past has sown,
what city_zen's in tune with Destiny?
Faith's sculptured cyphered symbols should be shown
to hold lost truth ruthless modernity
has cast away, wind willy-nilly blown.
Volcanic, Mother Nature Iceland fires,
Frost's 'Fire and Ice' combine to offer clouds
no silver lining, scorches most desires,
unemployment offers idle crowds
whose idol 'I'm_material' requires
waste for the sake of waste till ash-cloth shrouds
bury dopes' hopes as role control backfires.
Some look for truth, if truth there be, yet wait
on chance, advance, just motives undermined,
seek miracle that must emancipate
the will to change, new open outlook find.
Too many fool themselves, prevaricate,
toil, trouble, hubble-bubble trail behind
berate self-blindness few eliminate.
But fear of fear too often dissipates
both sense and inner sensitivity,
impressions outlined by the hand that Fate's
swift moving finger writes for clarity,
then senseless seem priorities, debates,
when blind eye's turned by grovel vanity,
and vested interest pride of place vacates.
No writing on the wall anticipates
decline and fall, can versatility
sidestep, swim from, storm maelstrom tumbling dates
from palm oasis in whate'er degree,
to save man's game Time's tide can terminate.
Mistakes are made as visibility
is lacking, insight dawning far too late.
There's none so blind as those who will not see,
for actions much delayed must compromise
success where false excuse is found to be
but ruse refusing acts where fact supplies
evidence of misuse, humanity
manipulates heedless to blue planet's cries,
extracts from Nature's generosity.
Hope for true scope, with insights wise obeyed,
is countered by misMANagement, strife sore,
shadowy lack of confidence displayed
behind bluff mask, aggression, rifled store,
MAN_'tis game regardless idols preyed
proves riddle rarely idyll, unjust law
spurns common weal, would Fate's spun ignore.
Veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid
both silver spoon and slum lie dumb, stilled tune
divorced from light by self-inflicted shade,
with passing sigh to signify too soon
in contradiction to lip-service paid
no generation's proved its acts as boon
throughout Earth's girth through time, man's vain parade.
What's left, sewn through waft-weft of life's rapports,
suffers from fear of Death's amoral spade,
learns no lessons, prudence spurns, tooth, claw,
enjoys its self-destruction, hand out-played,
serves not, rots vision clear, fears what's in store,
yet errors unmended leave man's world afraid
as progress is divorced from natural law.
Today's priorities tomorrow fade,
dissolve distorted by Time's tug of war.
turn sour before their zest to rest is laid.
What all important seemed one day before,
incorporated into causal braid,
is dropped for gain immediate, more! more!
is trumped with basic instincts disobeyed.
When karmic candle hour's done, rich and poor,
pomp, power, cower, race, pace, trace forgotten,
darkness enshrouds all, Nature's shutters draw
a blind, close up close down man ill-begotten.
(11 April 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Days to Come
IN DAYS TO COME
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll strum no more
rhymed witness to timed world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest unblessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections poet pours
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ scores
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Self is both root and cause of fatal flaws.
My memory, wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
may shadow search vain answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 revised 16 November 2006 and 25 March 2009
robi03_1257_robi03_0000 SXX_DIZ
for previous versions see below variant of Unjaded Sparkle 6 July 1991
In Days to Come
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006 revised 23 November 2008
- for previous versions see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
For most wor[l]d-wise, ignoring one demise,
Life bright or boring as before, - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think on the pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions, one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget their first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006
for previous version see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time fair witness, world where butterflies
aloft dance marbled patterns in the skies -
next May, when I’ll have sunk to rest before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
Life will appear to who these verses buys
as bright or boring as before, - here lies
the irony, reflections one would pour
in ink upon the pixel pages’ score.
Ambitions fade, and libido, too, sighs
when hopes unmet one cannot realize, -
within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
Life will for me be candle lost to flame,
for others, search for answers to its game.
20 May 2005
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time's Tide
Those cause/effect relations seek to investigate
ask why life’s lamentations can’t flow past pearly gate,
why can’t hope’s expectations some sects anticipate
show we’re wheeled incarnations, frustrations, fears, negate
Why worry what tomorrow may offer if at all,
share laughter, spurning sorrow, ignoring wailing wall,
each wakes one day, hopes hollow, must piper pay as shawl
in winding sheet few follow, no trumps for final call.
Time's tide has been extended beyond the sands of hope,
free ride from heyday ended, frayed tether, broken rope,
recount lost time expended, events' ghost mirage grope,
as most proud man intended black hole's Time's telescope.
Bright spark - life's candle gutters - so swiftly movements cease,
one cry before heart flutters, before 'Here rests in peace! '
one sigh then parting’s shutters are drawn with no surcease,
one dies while crowd bread butters inheritance apiece.
In youth great expectations mask ignorance - a vice -
few meet anticipations, most, sour, scower at Fate’s dice.
life’s joke is on Creation’s head, ne’er repeated twice,
one innings: vindications leave after-thoughts to lice.
Behind lie verses threaded, skeins sense retains in vain,
life's loves too soon are bedded by Fate immune to pain.
life’s gloves too soon are shredded by thorny greed for gain,
‘Above’ is concept wedded to fear, none bat again.
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0922_robi3_0000 XXX_CDZ 2 January 2001 revised 22 December 2008 for previous version see below
Time's Tide
Some cause/effect relations
would understand and splice -
what wall of lamentations
may give a game played twice?
Why care Creation's date to play -
the aeons ebb and flow, -
Man wakes one day with price to pay,
and nowhere left to go.
Time's tide has been extended
beyond the sands of hope,
the time for games has ended,
what trumps remain, what scope?
In youth great expectations
masked ignorance - a vice -
of how anticipations
can sour at throw of dice.
A spark, - life's candle gutters -
so swiftly mouvements cease.
One cry before heart flutters,
before 'Here rests in peace! '
Luck's tithe has been expended,
no slack remains, the rope
draws tight 'spite rules once bended
to ease life's line, to cope.
And like these verses threaded
in skein sense would retain,
Life's loves too soon are bedded
by Fate immune to pain.
2 January 2001
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Requiem I - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Through the artificial flowers
let me slide when all my powers
have passed as pass man’s mortal hours,
and let me burn.
Spurn graven verses for my head,
spade not the body laid, instead,
as I’ll no longer look ahead
book me no urn.
© Jonathan Robin – written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem for alternative version see below
robi03_0795_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
Requiem II
From life's dark, unwholesome cage
where love frets, siege raised in rage,
set free who sad lived, glad the page
turns uniting night to day.
Crave no rave elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here actor lies in heart arrest
retractions over his clay.
© Jonathan Robin – written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem revised 25 December 2009
robi03_0796_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
for previous version see below
Requiem II
In a dark, unwholesome cage
let me fret and seethe in rage,
sadly I’ve lived and glad the page
turns uniting night and day.
Rave no crude elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here lies life’s actor under arrest
with a tractor over his clay.
© Jonathan Robin – Parody written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he long’d to be
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Robert Louis Stevenson 1850 - 1894
Requiem
Under the free and open sky,
There let me rest, nor breathe a sigh, -
Gladly I’ve lived, and gladly I’ll lie,
Content by night and day.
Grave no rude tombstone to mark my rest;
But deep in your soul may you say with zest;
“Here is the Seeker after his Quest,
And the Actor after the Play.”
Hamish Mann 1896 – 1917 A Subaltern’s Musings: 1918
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Youth’s End
I HAVE held my life too high,
Spring and harvest, love and laughter, smile and sigh.
I should have held it lightly, like a young leaf rent in haste
From the willow in the waste.
A moment in my fingers; then it fluttered, then it fled,
A little flame of red,
To the God-beholding desert where the soundless years go by,–
I have held my life too high.
I have held my death too dear,
Shame or honour, peace or peril, pride or fear.
I should have held it softly, as the little cloud that flies
When the heron takes the skies.
I should have held it kindly as a passing whisper,–'Friend,
Here's the end,
Here the silver cord is loosened and the bowl is broken here,'–
But I held my death too dear.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Requiem II - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem II
From life's dark, unwholesome cage
where love frets, siege raised in rage,
set free who sad lived, glad the page
turns uniting night to day.
Crave no rave elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here actor lies in heart arrest
retractions over his clay.
revised 25 December 2009
robi03_0796_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
for previous version see below
Requiem II
In a dark, unwholesome cage
let me fret and seethe in rage,
sadly I’ve lived and glad the page
turns uniting night and day.
Rave no crude elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here lies life’s actor under arrest
with a tractor over his clay.
Requiem I
Through the artificial flowers
let me slide when all my powers
have passed as pass man’s mortal hours,
and let me burn.
Spurn graven verses for my head,
spade not the body laid, instead,
as I’ll no longer look ahead
book me no urn.
© Jonathan Robin – Parody written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he long’d to be
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Robert Louis Stevenson 1850 - 1894
Requiem
Under the free and open sky,
There let me rest, nor breathe a sigh, -
Gladly I’ve lived, and gladly I’ll lie,
Content by night and day.
Grave no rude tombstone to mark my rest;
But deep in your soul may you say with zest;
“Here is the Seeker after his Quest,
And the Actor after the Play.”
Hamish Mann 1896 – 1917 A Subaltern’s Musings: 1918
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk With Your Head Held High
Walk,
With your palms open.
And I will keep you fed.
Remember,
It was I who had said from the very beginning...
Without Me in your life,
You would feel the winds...
Constantly spinning.
Until you admit...
It is I who can make that quit.
Walk,
With your eyes opened wide.
And realize what I have done...
Under the Sun,
Is not disguised.
Walk,
With your head held high.
Stop denying lies you tell...
To see time slip right by!
And it does not have to be that way.
It is you who attract,
Involved entrapments.
Without sending them away.
What from that,
Do you wished kept obeyed?
Walk,
With your head held high.
Stop denying lies you tell...
To see time slip right by!
Walk,
With your head held high.
Without trying in your 'fits'...
To make sense of it and sit,
In tears...
To stay.
Walk,
With your head held high.
Stop denying and the lieing,
Excused by alibis.
Today!
Just walk,
With your palms open.
And I will keep you fed.
Remember,
It was I who said,
From the very beginning...
Without Me in your life,
You would feel the winds spinning.
With strife you do not like!
But you invite it to incite.
And it does not have to be that way.
It is you who like entrapments.
Without sending them away.
Walk,
With your head held high.
And remember this...
You can dismiss all your conflicts,
If you insist to let them go...
And show your faith in Me believing,
What is known can be quickly tossed away...
From your grieving.
It was I who had said from the very beginning...
Without Me in your life,
You would feel the winds...
Constantly spinning.
Until you admit...
It is I who can make that quit.
Or you can sit,
To let your life pass as you slowly fade.
Without ever knowing what it's like...
To grab hold of your life and fight it,
Off!
Just Walk!
With your head held high.
Stop denying lies you tell...
To see time slip right by!
Walk,
With your head held high.
Without trying in your 'fits'...
To make sense of it and sit,
In tears...
That stay.
Take your happiness...
Affirm this everyday,
And walk away.
Choose to live your life,
In peaceful ways.
And you can do that praying everyday.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someone I Am Not
You'd like for me to be for you someone I am not.
You'd like for me to dropp my priorities,
And put your agenda on top.
Stop!
Wasting my time I have never found comforting.
Or deciding my life is less important than yours,
Has never occurred to blur my vision.
Any door of opportunity I see for me that is open,
I am going to walk through it.
And your attempts to block me...
Is a notice from you I do not deserve.
And ignoring you does not take neither courage,
Or nerve.
You're just another observed fool in my way!
Move,
You can not stay here to pluck or shuck...
Not at this door to cross a threshold.
You'd like for me to be for you someone I am not.
You'd like for me to dropp my priorities,
And put your agenda on top.
Stop!
What have you not heard?
Do you wish for me to show you,
I can be insensitive?
Someone I am not.
But I can deliver a believable portrayal,
Whenever someone has that as a need.
You'd like for me to be for you someone I am not.
You'd like for me to dropp my priorities,
And put your agenda on top.
Stop!
I prefer to be left to be someone I am.
Not to be changed into someone I am not!
Although I am quick to defend against,
Misdeeds and their intentions.
With a noticeable determination.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's no sense talking about priorities. Priorities reveal themselves. We're all transparent against the face of the clock.
Recounting
Ache, Pain, Depression, urgently await
attention as emergencies are laid
side by side, some prostrate, some afraid,
upon their stretchers shored by metal gate.
Space occupied all patients would vacate
but hold their breath in queue, minds dwell on spade,
'til rest for good or evil is repaid
as egos and identities deflate.
One stroke starts life, one more: it is too late
to draw conclusions, seek to be obeyed,
order, plan, or question fate, for, frayed,
lifes braid unravels, saint and reprobate
have date with waters of forgetfulness,
all waves goodbye. 'Unknown at that address.'
3 December 2007
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Hour I Have Is Precious
You said you would be here.
And gave a time when you would arrive.
That time passed.
I did not get upset.
I elected to believe you had other priorities.
Since you did not call me to confirm that!
A week had gone by...
And you left a message on my answering service.
I did not call right away,
Since at the time I had priorities.
I called you when I could.
And when I expressed that...
You believed I was upset!
I was not upset at all.
At least I did call!
I spoke the truth.
I had something else to do!
And you weren't on the agenda!
There is nothing in my life,
I have put on hold...
For anyone to make a decision,
How best to use my time!
Certainly not to play tag!
Every hour I have is precious.
Obviously...
I am the only one that feels that way!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tomorrow I’ll Be Stronger
Today I stand and ideate
Of the tomorrow I intend to create
With hopes and dreams, a joyful state
Cos today, I have been asked to wait
Today I work toward a tomorrow
Devoid of sadness and sorrow
Where joy can be found flourishing
And life completely enriching
Today I fight my phobias
My sadness and despair
And look toward a bright future
That tomorrow’s going to share
Today I stand in guilt,
For the mistakes I have committed
But work with all my heart to fix
The priorities I just omitted
Today is still a reality,
That’s staring in my face
Telling me of all the things I miss
Of all the things I chase
Today works on my feelings
My weakest points, exposed
But they’ll still exist tomorrow
Just taken care of and closed
Today might get the better of me,
But that’s a small price pay
Cos tomorrow I’ll be stronger still
And make that better way, stay
So bear with me for today,
In case I stumble or fall
To seem me rise again much stronger,
Wait till tomorrow before you call.
poem by Vijay Jacob
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brackets 0269
Break down stored brackets, restore spirit's soar,
Refuse restrictions, even golden cage,
As fame has second thoughts, untimely age
Celebrity converts to dust. Therefore,
Karma of light and laughter seek, sure core,
Enlightenment before Life's final page
Turns to find one absent from its stage.
Steer truthwards, fancy, fiction, shed, sure shore.
Behind lies Lethe, Lethe lies before,
Recorded time provides no living wage
Afterwards for archivists who'd gauge
Concerns or motives held in times of yore,
Knowledge sift to lift life's lid and pour
Excited over causal links, engage
Tenaciously in quibbling why, wherefore.
Sing Carpe Diem while one holds life's floor.
(31 December 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Finding Loves Fool
Finding loves fool
loves fool you may be
but I stand in front of thee
a light covered in the shroud of lies
Where sorrow will not die
In the shroud of lies
will I be
So there look for me
If the lies should make you sorrow
Do not cry in fear of tomorrow
For I will find thee before
That marrow
And at that time
There will be no sorrow
Should your eyes still cry
then I will find you in the
in the shroud of lies
Twice as fast as
You cry
Will I fly to your side
may I wipe away the tears
Of pain and sorrow
and your fears
For now and tomorrow
Then from your tears will I form
A drink of love
And sorrow torn
then may I show you the light
Of tomorrow
Along with it the army of sorrow
And then in fight
I shall give you no sorrow
For none shall pass me
But die in the birth of tomorrow
If in case should I die
Then sprout your wings
And fly
Beyond the sight of this marrow
Then rise above
The next army of sorrow
Find me now
Without sorrow
Find me now in
Heavens tomorrow
Then see the light oh fool of love
See the light of heaven above
Then there will be no shroud of lies
And together are wings shall fly
over mountains and beyond the sea
to a place were we can both be
Without the pain and sorrow
But at the birth
Of a new tomorrow
A tomorrow were a new earth brings
The life of another
Child with wings
With these wing he shall soar
And for loves fool
The search
Begins once more
poem by Cody Byrne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BURKA BABES...by talile ali
YOU BURKA BABES
YOU TURNIN ME ON
YOU GOT ME THINKIN
WHATS GOIN ON
UP UNDER THERE
YOU ARE SO FAIR
I WANNA SEE YOU
ALL IN THE BARE
OR DO A POOL DANCE
WITH YOUR BURKA ON
IT BE SO EROTIC
WE'D ALL BE GONE
YOU BURKA LADIES
ARE REALLY HOT
GOT ME DESIRING
ALL THAT YOU'RE NOT
BUT YOU ARE
YOU ARE
YOU ARE IN YOUR BURKA'S
VERY HOT
I SEE THESE WOMEN
EXPOSED AND SUCH
THEY'RE NOT AS HOT AS
YO ARE COVERED UP
ITS LIKE A PRESENT
WAITING TO BE UNWRAPPED
YOU'RE ALL EXCITED
YOU NEED A MAP
AND AT THE MOMENT
YOU DO UNVEIL
IT ALL ORGASMIC
IT RINGS MY BELL
BURKA BABE'S
BURKA BABES
BURKA BABES
STEAMING HOT BURKA BABES
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Senses
The words were broken into sounds
And the time was cracked in seconds.
The seconds were dismantled slowly.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance,
I grasped my remembrance and I laid it in grievance,
I grasped my grievance and I laid it in reason,
I grasped my reason and I laid it in self,
I grasped myself and I stepped into the light,
I grasped the light and I laid it over the candle wax.
The candle dropped the light.
In the light, the sense of life became clear.
I grasped the sense of life and I laid it over the sense of death.
In this sense of life and death you laid
The seconds, which were dismantled.
They melted in pieces of eternity.
I took those pieces and I gave them to The Lord.
I gave love your name.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance
And I heard the empty bell ringing in the sky.
The bell would ring for someone else,
But I remembered you
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can't Do It Today
Trying to keep a candle burnin in a hurricane
That's what it's like when you love me, and you leave me this way
Like a dove cryin out when he's lost the will to fly, yeah
Shackled down to the earth by your long chained lies, well
I'll forgive you tomorrow if the sun doesn't shine
Let you back into my life when the oceans are dry
Take you back when every shade of the rainbow turns gray
But I just can't do it today
I can't do it today
Well, I can see you dancin in that stranger's arms
My world hasn't stopped turnin, but it's fallin apart
Every breath that I take's a little closer to sane, yeah
They say that time is a healer, but it's still a long, long ways away
yeah
I'll forgive you tomorrow if the sun doesn't shine
Let you back into my life when the oceans are dry
Take you back when every shade of the rainbow turns gray
But I just can't do it today
I can't do it today
Don't wanna do it today
There's a part of me that wishes I could just forget
But I haven't found the mercy yet
No mercy yet
I'll forgive you tomorrow if the sun doesn't shine
Let you back into my life when the oceans are dry
Take you back when every shade of the rainbow turns gray
But I just can't do it today
I just can't do it today
I just can't do it today
I just can't do it today
Wanna do it today
Can't do it today
Not gonna do it today
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sabbath Bloody Sabbath
Youve seen life through distorted eyes
You know you had to learn
The execution of your mind
You really had to turn
The race is run the book is read
The end begins to show
The truth is out, the lies are old
But you dont want to know
Nobody will ever let you know
When you ask the reasons why
They just tell you that youre on your own
Fill your head all full of lies
The people who have crippled you
You want to see them burn
The gates of life have closed on you
And now theres just no return
Youre wishing that the hands of doom
Could take your mind away
And you dont care if you dont see again
The light of day
Nobody will ever let you know
When you ask the reasons why
They just tell you that youre on your own
Fill your head all full of lies
Where can you run to
What more can you do
No more tomorrow
Life is killing you
Dreams turn to nightmares
Heaven turns to hell
Burned out confusion
Nothing more to tell
Everything around you
Whats it coming to
God knows as your dog knows
Bog blast all of you
Sabbath bloody sabbath
Nothing more to do
Living just for dying
Dying just for you
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath
Youve seen life through distorted eyes
You know you had to learn
The execution of your mind
You really had to turn
The race is run the book is read
The end begins to show
The truth is out, the lies are old
But you dont want to know
Nobody will ever let you know
When you ask the reasons why
They just tell you that youre on your own
Fill your head all full of lies
The people who have crippled you
You want to see them burn
The gates of life have closed on you
And now theres just no return
Youre wishing that the hands of doom
Could take your mind away
And you dont care if you dont see again
The light of day
Nobody will ever let you know
When you ask the reasons why
They just tell you that youre on your own
Fill your head all full of lies
Where can you run to
What more can you do
No more tomorrow
Life is killing you
Dreams turn to nightmares
Heaven turns to hell
Burned out confusion
Nothing more to tell
Everything around you
Whats it coming to
God knows as your dog knows
Bog blast all of you
Sabbath bloody sabbath
Nothing more to do
Living just for dying
Dying just for you
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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