Concupiscence
And the angel of death walked like a mirror
She wasn't ready
She basked in her sin like a séance
Now time has a sickle
What will be your fate?
Shrouds of conscious imperfection
Hide like dark rats
No olive branch in the dove's beak
Your cinnamon tree shallow as graves
Grand pride motivates concupiscence
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Cat and Bat's Revenge
The day the cat
and the bat
ate the rat
'Now peace b'coz we don't need to fight
for the rat'
said the cat.
'OK.' said the bat who hanging upside down on the wall
his shadow looking grand and tall
but the rats of the other world were scared
b'coz one of them read
the agreement
now the fastest mouse made a plan
to cut the wires of the fan
so it fell on the cat,
but the bat
took the rat and ate all his fat
the rats were frightened
so they sent another robotic rat
to outwit the bat and cat
now the plan was ready
and it was also fine
but unluckily came the bad pine
of the tree
which always helped the cat and the bat flee
from the rats net
which would always fail b'coz of the bat's friend the pine tree
who would help them see
the wicked plans of the rats
and tell them to all the bats
oh poor rats
getting all eaten up by cats(and bats)
then came the wisest rat sniper the 'sniper'
he went and cut the tree
and didn’t let the cat
and the bat flee
he threw a pan
on the fan
which hit the cat
and the bat
on thier heads
so now they are saved
from the cat
and bat
but now what?
here comes a rat
who's on the side of the cat
and the bat
the wisest mouse got him in the team again and put him to deep
sleep
so the cat and the bat
ate the 'EVIL' rat.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In An Anonymous Week
If I am not beautiful, nobody really has interests
Or love; and I am quite shallow,
The pittance of an unreturned dove:
You know, you know- all of our graves or quite
Shallow, too- like animal graves,
Like animals shoes; and this is what I have been doing,
Digging up shallow tubs of earth, throwing dirt
Over my shoulders like a dirty curse, and doing it
Without appeasing anyone in the eye;
If I should have to die, If I should have to die, let it
Be little animal tears for me, and distant cars,
And distant echoes of somnolent feet; you know,
I am not pretty, and the way the earth moves, I shall
Be dead in an anonymous week.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angel Of Death
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
Capo: 2nd fret key: e play: d
In the [d] great book of john - you're [g] warned of the [d] day
When you'll be laid - beneath the cold [a7] clay
The [g] angel of [d] death - will [g] come from the [d] sky
And claim your poor soul - when the [a7] time comes to [d] die.
Chorus
When the angel of death - comes [g] down after [d] you
Can you smile and say - that you have been [a7] true
Can you [g] truthfully [d] say - with [g] your dying [d] breath
That you're ready to meet - the [a7] angel of [d] death.
When the [d] lights all grow dim - and the [g] dark shadows [d] creep
And then your loved ones - are gathered to [a7] weep
Can you [g] face them and [d] say - with [g] your dying [d] breath
That you're ready to meet - the [a7] angel of [d] death.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fallen Darkness
You are the fallen dark angel,
angel of death as u may be called,
i called ur name the other day,
to say i am ready to prove my love,
love that is ready to be taken from u,
taken u have done and smashed it to pieces,
how could u,
i thought we had something,
something no one else could ever have,
then i finally realized that u,
the dark angel,
also called angel of death,
is the devil himself,
i have made a comitment,
with the devil himself.
poem by Chelsea Pace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Angel Of Death
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
Capo: 2nd fret key: e play: d
In the [d] great book of john - youre [g] warned of the [d] day
When youll be laid - beneath the cold [a7] clay
The [g] angel of [d] death - will [g] come from the [d] sky
And claim your poor soul - when the [a7] time comes to [d] die.
Chorus
When the angel of death - comes [g] down after [d] you
Can you smile and say - that you have been [a7] true
Can you [g] truthfully [d] say - with [g] your dying [d] breath
That youre ready to meet - the [a7] angel of [d] death.
When the [d] lights all grow dim - and the [g] dark shadows [d] creep
And then your loved ones - are gathered to [a7] weep
Can you [g] face them and [d] say - with [g] your dying [d] breath
That youre ready to meet - the [a7] angel of [d] death.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cinnamon
Do you believe that your're dead when you die
Or do you believe in a soul
You have the power to mess with their minds
You've got them under control
Everybody wants a piece of you
To take them higher than they ever were on the ground
(All I wanna say is)
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down
Nobody sees that you smile when you lie
You'll take that mask to your grave
You know what you're doing
God knows you're not blind
You just don't want to be saved
Line'em up and knock'em down
You've taken everything and still keep coming around
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down
You have the power to mess with their lives
They're under your control
Everybody wants a piece of you
To take them higher than they ever were on the ground
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down
Cinnamon, Cinnamon
Don't let them down...
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The other me....
Black angel, dark face
Alive in time and space,
Black angel darkest day
Shall always find the way.
There is this other me
Who lies inside and hide
Comes forth with any fight
And always in the dark of night.
Black angel
Strong and wild,
Black angel
Never mild.
Sleeping in the day
When the sky is blue,
Then shows a dark face
When darkness comes through.
Black angel
Falling sin,
Black angel
All within.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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A Nobel Prize For Peace!
A NOBLE PRIZE FOR PEACE!
When the dove returned to Noah’s arch, -
With an olive branch in its beak,
Noah knew that the flood waters have begun
to recede!
The Dove remain as our symbol of Peace!
But now when we look up at the sky,
There are more hawks than doves flying up
high!
Yet there are many who work in anonymity,
For the sake of peace and to alleviate poverty,
Without any kind of publicity!
For long religious bigotry, cast and creed,
Have distanced us from that elusive peace, -
Spreading violence amongst our midst!
So now I sincerely do hope and pray,
That this Noble Prize for Peace shall one day,
Bringing that elusive peace on our way!
Despite what the ‘hawks’ might have to say!
With best wishes for President Obama on
this day!
-Raj Nandy
14 Oct 09
New Delhi
Oddfellowship in Woodstock
Well tell a tale, it shall be brief
It is of rise of Maple Leaf,
From noble Olive Branch it sprung,
And its good deeds shall yet be sung ;
This Encampment, though in its youth,
Glories in friendship, love, and truth
Of all our lodges yet the chief
May be this youthful Maple Leaf ;
Built of good timber, it doth launch
Well worthy of the Olive Branch,
And though it only is a shoot
We hope that it will take deep root,
And soon be vigorous Maple tree
In Canada so broad and free.
And may its usefulness ne'er cease
Sprung from the Olive Branch of peace,
But comfort brothers in distress,
Widows and orphans it will bless,
And console them in their grief,
Protected by the Maple Leaf.
Poor travellers in the wilderness
They oft do suffer great distress,
But may no pilgrim get rude shock
Sojourning here in Woodstock.
poem by James McIntyre
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An olive branch
Can that happen ever?
Wars are averted forever
Olive branch in one hand with message of peace
For millions of people to live at ease
Many may doubt and see it as impossible
The wars are imposed and forcible
Slight provocation can engulf entire world
No country can afford to keep the relation in cold
Has world ever witnessed winning of war without fight?
Who would judge our action and emphatically say right?
Can peace be taken as last hope to see the light?
The peace should not be lost out of sight
Yes, mere gesture or process with olive branch is imprcaticable
The impossible result is achieved through and histroy can be tracable
World with the piles of atmoic weapons can’t dare to fight
Only peace with olive branch can lead us and make it alright
There may be threat behind olive branch diplomacy
Still it has increased the peace efforts with frequency
The world doesn’t want misery in the form of another war
We have missed opportunity but still are not very far
With deterrence on one hand and olive branch on another
The blame may be passed on to others
There may still be hidden efforts to defuse
No one may want wart but refuse
Olive branch strategy is right means of persuation
The war is ruled out and is out of question
There may be complete annihilation and destruction
It can succeed with powerful message and instruction
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Quest for Shaded Truth
Dove came to Raven in a dream.
He was whiter than snow.
Raven woke with his croaking scream,
A creature of light had visited.
It was not just a vision,
The Dove soon arrived in flesh.
Raven stared in derision,
As Dove was loved more than he.
What have I done, thought Raven,
To deserve such hostility?
Must I stop eating carrion,
Or carry a branch in my beak?
Dove is loved by all,
With his smooth, snowy plumage,
And his slow, cooing call
That so comforts Man’s soul.
As the wind whispered Nature’s
Thoughts into his ears, he realized
That without the dark there
Could not be light.
Raven watched fires angrily destroy,
And rain patter softly on earth.
He saw shrubs, stooped like haggard men,
While tall trees towered tyrannically.
But who made the rules about
What should symbolize purity,
And what should represent
Repulsion and evil?
Mirror or your mind
When you look at your reflection,
The mirror may reveal a deception;
But if your heart is pure and true,
Then it will show the way to you.
The door to your soul can be seen;
Look into a mirror and you'll know what I mean.
You started living for a lie,8
Thinking things would get better as life passed you by.
So shatter the mirror to rid your reflection
Of each little imperfection.
Deep down, you know you're still the same;
You only have yourself to blame.
Deep in your eyes - the mask you wear
Can't hide the fact - the truth is there.
You found the truth with just one look;
A mirror was all it took.
poem by Mechelle Fox
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I come bearing an olive branch in one hand, and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand.
quote by Yasser Arafat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree And The Branch
the tree looks
upon a branch
where a ripe
fruit is hanging
the tree says
it is mine
the branch say
i am holding it
the tree says
the branch too
belongs to it
angry about the
tree's greed
the branch lets go off
the ripe fruit
a hungry child
picks it up
and goes home
with a happy heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tearful Eyes
The mirror laughed; it gleaned my thoughts
And saw me cry my want:
Synthetic views - pathetic clues
To how I tick - and now you taunt,
You bleeding mirror, jibe another!
Just because I dream…
To be the mighty hero wise!
And perch atop the sodden hill
Of blood and pungent death,
To lead our race from sure demise.
Let's regain, collect, and rest
Before the battle slams
Our dauntless nerve. And now to rise!
Come follow me - we'll slay the foe!
See my cloak unfurl.
Through screams and wails, he fails and dies.
Look! he falls across his minions'
Path. I laugh aloud.
My warriors hold me to the skies.
Overhead the clouds recede,
Thinning out the black.
And then I fade in pallid lies.
Returning back to conscious state,
I let the mirror slate me:
Fathoming my remote disguise,
Reflecting back my hopeless lot.
Oh to smash the thing!
If I could see through tearful eyes.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Y.. Tree of Life
The tree of life
It has a branch
A money making branch
The bigger the money making branch
The more comfortable our life
But if the money making branch
Is the only branch
On our tree of life
It is such an ugly and unstable tree.
A prayer and devotion branch
Will stabilize the tree of life
Let it be a real big branch
On your tree of life
But if only two branches on a tree
Imagine how ugly it would still be!
So let there be branches
Of Affability and Charity
Of Cheerfulness and Friendliness
Of Gentleness and Honesty
Of Humility and Compassion
Of Spirituality and Wisdom
Of Courage and Hard work
With these branches present,
It will carry soon the lush greenery
Of love and job satisfaction
And soon enough, the tree of life
Will bear the fruits
Of peace of mind and happiness.
A wonderful tree of life I wish you
with many fine branches
and lots of greenery and fruits.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Today
Once many walked behind me on
The same path while
Nobody has ever walked before me-
Every time I look behind
Someone is approaching me-
I could see my reflection in a pond nearby or perhaps, in a mirror-
Yesterday is gone and
Nobody knows what tomorrow shall bring-
I tell myself that
Whatever lurks behind is none but a
Memory of yesterday and
I must not look behind because
All that happened yesterday is none but a threat to me.
I shall keep looking at my reflection
Whether it be in a pond, a mirror or
Perhaps I may see none but a shadow-
But these are all the same.as
I have learned to believe in myself,
And to live only for today-
Yesterday shall soon be forgotten-
Shadows always disappear but
I shall always be true to my reflection-
Only because my reflection always reveals the present moment-
I have lost many a shadow along the paths I have walked and
I can only fantasize of how I would like tomorrow to be;
Some memories of yesterday
Are entertaining but beyond my ability to grasp-
Today I call a branch upon a tree-
Which I can always hold onto and perceive, while
My shadow has once again slipped through my fingertips-
That path before me is never ending-
I can only dream of what tomorrow may bring, but
Today is a blossoming flower or a rainbow on the horizon-
Today I have nothing to fear as
My reflection belongs to me alone and nobody can ever take away
What I can clearly see before me-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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A World Worth Living In
One who claims that he knows about it
Tells me the earth is a vale of sin;
But I and the bees, and the birds we doubt it,
And think it a world worth living in.
------
Whatever you want, if you wish for it long,
With constant yearning and ceaseless desire,
If your wish soars upward on wings so strong
That they never grow languid, never tire,
Why, over the storm cloud and out of the dark
It will come flying some day to you,
As the dove with the olive branch flew to the ark,
And the wish you've been dreaming,
it will come true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Parable Of The Dove
A dove lived in a village.
When it opened its mouth
sweetness came out, sound
like a silver light around
the cherry bough. But
the dove wasn't satisfied.
It saw the villagers
gathered to listen under
the blossoming tree.
It didn't think: I
am higher that they are.
It wanted to wealk among them,
to experience the violence of human feeling,
in part for its song's sake.
So it became human.
It found passion, it found violence,
first conflated, then
as separate emotions
and these were not
contained by music. Thus
its song changed,
the sweet notes of its longing to become human
soured and flattened. Then
the world drew back; the mutant
fell from love
as from the cherry branch,
it fell stained with the bloody
fruit of the tree.
So it is true after all, not merely
a rule of art:
change your form and you change your nature.
And time does this to us.
poem by Louise Gluck
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Christmas Part 1 - Christmas Tree
Coloured lights and tinsel.
Hang from almost every branch.
Card with little jingles.
Also make their stance.
An angel stands on the top.
Looks down with peace and good will.
The tree is almost ready now.
To stand by the window sill.
14 Nov 1978
poem by David Harris
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