Woe
I tried to rid myself of woe,
Though woe refused to let me go,
So I dropped it fast and ran like hell,
Then stopped at last when all seemed well.
I glanced around, though could not see
If my woe had followed me-
Alas, I winced, and since then know
A man can never rid his woe.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Dropped Like a Hot Potato
I had the fear in me stopped.
Dropped like a hot potato.
I got tired of being unhappy.
And strapped with available nonsense,
On my back.
I've long asked God to deliver me from that.
I had the fear in me stopped.
Dropped like a hot potato.
Without one regret of being burned.
Or which emotion I dealt with it.
I was not going to allow it to sit.
And nourish on me as if a leech!
I've long asked God to deliver me from that.
I had been whipped into doubt and confusion.
No one had to tell me I was crazed.
I was in the affirmation stage.
I had the fear in me stopped.
And dropped like a hot potato.
And today...
Nothing gets dropped.
Since the fear in me stopped.
To let go of an experience,
That may be too precious to go wasted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Can It Be Stopped
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can it be dropped.
Can it be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose.
Hoodwinkers out to dupe too!
And...
Can they be stooped.
Crooked people after loot,
Proving they can low stoop.
But...
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose,
Stooping low as they choose.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tick Tock
MY FRIEND WITH HIS ROUND SMILEY FACE
REFUSED TO TICK, REFUSED TO TOCK
I FEARED HE'D GIVEN UP LIFES RACE
AS I RAPPED AND IT STILL DIDN'T GO
MY GRANDSON SAID `GIVE IT SOME FOOD? '
BUT ALAS, IT WASN'T IN THE MOOD
HIS CHANGING` TOCK' HAS PUT ME TO SLEEP FOR SO LONG
ALONG WITH MY TEDDY, I NEEDED NO SONG
HIS HANDS HAVE STOPPED TO SHOW HIS SADNESS
TIME HAS RUN OUT FOR HIM
HIS SPRING IS PROBABLY BROKEN AND HIS CHROME WORN THIN
NEW MODELS TAKE OVER, THEY DON'T MAKE A SOUND
THEIR PARTS DON'T EVEN GO ROUND
SO THE CHANGES SET IN
WE ACCEPT THAT NEW SUPER DOOPER GIZMO THING
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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You can change me
You stopped speaking ill.
Must I continue?
You dropped your club;
Must I keep it still?
You stopped being my foe.
How can I be your foe?
By changing yourself
You have changed me.
28.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Chivalry
I saw you across the room
and my heart stopped.
You noticed
and I looked away.
I saw you across the room
this time you didn't see
me looking at you.
I moved my eyes
across the all of you
moved my lips
feeling my breath stop.
'Beautiful' I thought
'just a beautiful man'
Not supposed to notice
all the pretty men,
not if you're a bit older:
but pretty I still am
and I want to know
if younger men know;
If I can still attract
a look
still get noticed;
even admired.
Or am I now invisible
to any young man
under 25?
A critical point
in every woman's life
where the line between
younger and older lies.
I move
to catch your line of sight
just to see if your eye
would linger long enough
to make me understand
you wanted a second look.
You glanced
but then glanced away.
I decided for another try
and stood behind
so that if you moved
you encounter me
and I'd dropp my notepad.
Why pass 35
do I
still need to be admired
by younger men?
You moved and my pad dropped.
And with little or no eye-contact,
you picked it up
with a smile
and gave it back.
I bobbed my head
moved on
felled by
indifferent
chivalry
and passage
into
the Older Woman Category.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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We Stopped at Perfect Days
We stopped at perfect days
and got out of the car.
The wind glanced at her hair.
It was as simple as that.
I turned to say something--
poem by Richard Brautigan
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Passion governs
My mother dropped the glass.
My wife dropped the glass.
My servant dropped the glass
My child dropped the glass.
My sweetheart dropped the glass
I dropped the glass.
My reactions are different.
The depth of passion governs.
01.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What If
What if there were no heaven or hell
And the life we lived, no story to tell
What if hell was this time we had on earth
And it were to last just from dying to birth
What if heaven began when all pain stopped
And it was the end when all life dropped
The pure in heart would in harmony at the end
The evil in heart, would never have to bend
Life has been so kind to many and cruel to more
Some have had rainbows while others washed ashore
The hurricanes in life and sun shiny days
Have gotten mixed up, who knows who goes or stays
It's nice to think about the wonderful place up yonder
But just what if? Some of us will always ponder
Be kind to all man and show love till the last
You'll never know till the end, when we've all passed!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Apples + Oranges
What if the sun refused to shine?
What if the clouds refused to rain?
What if the wind refused to blow?
What if the seas refused to wave?
What if the world refused its turn?
What if the stars would hesitate?
What if what is isn't true?
What are you going to do?
What if what is isn't you?
Does that mean you've got to lose?
Digging for the feel of something new
What if the silence let you dream?
What if the air could let you breathe?
What if the words would bring you here?
What if this sound could bring you peace?
What if what is isn't true?
What are you going to do?
Digging for the feel of something new
What if what is isn't you?
Does that mean you've got to lose?
It came from your thoughts
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Adore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Calvary
The Cross of Christ laid on the ground
And Jesus closed His eyes,
His beating heart the only sound
That He could realise...
They held Him down and nailed Him fast
As He screamed out in pain,
His blood ran cold, for now, at last,
He knew He would be slain...
The Cross of Christ was hoisted up,
With Him, the Romans' toy,
They offered Him the drug-filled cup,
Some mercy to employ...
But He refused to dull the ache,
The horror and the fear,
He knew the sacrifice to make
And kept it pure and clear...
The Cross of Christ was where He stayed,
No angels rescued Him,
They humbly watched as Christ obeyed
Before God's seraphim...
The Father stared from Heaven's Throne,
At Christ who wore a crown,
Forced there by Roman hearts of stone,
Now gambling for His gown...
The Cross of Christ was hid from sight
As God's Love looked away
And turned that sacred day to night
As He kept tears at bay...
One angel wept, then all joined in
And God wept tears as well.
This was the sacrifice for sin...
So we'd not go to Hell...
The Cross of Christ was where He died,
That place called Calvary,
That green hill far away supplied,
That haunts eternity...
That day when Mary's heartbeat stopped
In unison yet lived,
That time the Saviour's head had dropped,
With death His precious gift...
The Cross of Christ still bore His Blood,
Though Christ was in His tomb
And God observed that holy flood,
With hatred and with gloom...
Yet Christ had prayed, forgive them all,
They know not what they do...
So God sent preachers like Saint Paul,
Because Christ died... for you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Used-Up
Many people
one might meet.
On city sarcophagus street.
Are dead.
It’s just.
No one...
has gotten around,
to burying them yet.
This is what became
of the brokenhearted!
Who refused
to get their act together!
Who refused
to walk with faith!
Who refused
to embrace the light!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Appels Oranjes
what if the sun refused to shine?
what if the clouds refused to rain?
what if the wind refused to blow?
what if the seas refused to wave?
what if the world refused to turn?
what if the stars would hesitate?
what if, what is isn't true?
what are you going to do?
what if, what is isn't you?
does that mean you've got to lose?
digging for the feel of something new
what if the silence let you dream?
what if the air could let you breathe?
what if the words would bring you here?
what if this sound could bring you peace?
what if, what is isn't true?
what are you going to do?
digging for the feel of something new
what if, what is isn't you?
does that mean you've got to lose?
it came from your thoughts, your dreams and visions
ripped up from your weeks and indecisions
what if the sun refused to shine?
what if the clouds refused to rain?
what if the world refused to turn?
what if the clocks would hesitate?
what if, what is isn't true?
what are you going to do?
what if, what is isn't you?
does that mean you've got to lose?
digging for the feel of something new
does that mean you've got to choose?
the feel of something new
does that mean you've got to lose?
the thoughts you cannot lose
what are you gonna do?
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny Needs A Fast Car
Johnny needs a fast car
Johnny needs it bad
Johnny always do the best whatever johnny has
Johnny needs a fast one
Johnny needs it now
You got to give him something to let him show you how
Johnny needs a fast car
Johnny needs a fast car
Johnny needs a break
Johnny dont need good luck
cos johnny never fakes
Hell always make it look good
Youll always see him smile
Give johnny a few inches and hell give you back a mile
Johnny needs a fast car
Johnny needs a fast car
Tears upon the broken bones of luck that never went his way
Bless this one youll know him by his smile
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0007 War: One for Frank and Whomsoever
There was peace
before there was war
that's when two parties
fight for 'peace'
and after the war
there are two losers
though one believes itself
the winner
and perhaps that
is the most dangerous belief
and which god ever
declared war on men?
if every woman in the world
refused war
the men would not have a chance in hell
the hell of their own making
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I think a lot of cynicism has dropped away from my shoulders since I stopped drinking.
quote by Graham Coxon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Date Of Misfortune
A Date of Misfortune
The bus was late it was raining when she alighted…
my temper was moody, since it was late the kitchen
at the café was closed, but they still had slices of
“black forest gateau, ” we had that with white wine
because the waiter refused to serve red wine with
a gateau; she drank the whole bottle and got giggly.
Going to my place, we stopped an outdoor kiosk
selling hotdogs, I ate two with mustard on, since she
disappeared throwing up in the back of the stall.
She refused to come home with me I walked her to
the bus station where she caught the last one home
to her parents.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Barley-break; Or, Last In Hell
We two are last in hell; what may we fear
To be tormented or kept pris'ners here I
Alas! if kissing be of plagues the worst,
We'll wish in hell we had been last and first.
poem by Robert Herrick
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I Been Refused
Sittin after supper
Watched the f.b.i.
Asked for the cigarette
I got no reply
Then you dropped your coulottes
Revealing rubber underpants
Sweat was forming in my shoes
But you ended our romance
I been refused
I lost my shoes
Last monday morning
Minus 20 degrees
Walked to unemployment
On my knees
Dogs in the ocean
Figs in the sea well come on baby
And wakka-wakka-wakka with me
Bought a kodak brownie
Developed film at home
Took some shots of sister
Pants were full of loam
Took a couple back views
Took some up front
Three tries wallet size
I was lookin at that cunt
I been refused
I lost my shoes.
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epitaph On The World
Here lies the body of this world,
Whose soul alas to hell is hurled.
This golden youth long since was past,
Its silver manhood went as fast,
An iron age drew on at last;
'Tis vain its character to tell,
The several fates which it befell,
What year it died, when 'twill arise,
We only know that here it lies.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
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The Young Man Who Refused To Take Off His Shoes
A young man
wandering in the dark
with his heart bleeding
found himself
infront of the house
that was fully lighted.
A woman
who seemed to be
an upright person
opened the door
and pityingly lead the young man
to enter the house
but then stopped him
when she saw the young man entering
with his shoes on his feet.
The woman told the young man
to take off his shoes
but the young man refused
to do so.
'I'm sorry,
I cannot let you in
if you won't take off your shoes
it is my policy
that everyone must take off the shoes
when entering the house.'
But the young man
still refused
so the woman pushed
the young man away
from the door and told him,
'I cannot help you
if you won't follow my policy! '
and the woman shut the door.
The young man
who refused to take off his shoes
back in the dark
wandering
with his heart bleeding
...alone.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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