Do You Know?
Do you know the stories I hear?
One is beaten and the other dies there.
Do you know the things I fear?
A list of shameful claims people prefer not to name.
Do you know the difficult marriage I face?
Understand that I can't stay in the same place
Do you know the laugh I fake?
Due to the painful jokes you don't mean to make.
Do you see through me like I see through you?
Because your pitiful words of encouragement
Leaves my body in malnourishment
Do you know I know who you are?
A person no different than I've met at my job or at a bar
Do you know you're a homophobe?
Someone who leaves me clinging with little hope
Someone who smiles as they see me mope
poem by Karoliena Somura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
World Of Clowns
People who cover their true faces with makeup
People who act totally different from who they really are
People who are bad actors, but good performers
People who don't take things seriously
People who have fake sense of humor to replace their hurts
People who live fake lives to impress the audience around us
People who are masters at doing tricks to give false leads to the most attentive watchers
People who fall down again and again just to get the reaction
People who laugh even though there's no more smiles in them
People who have a fear of themselves
We
Are
A
World
of
Clowns
poem by Hope Denton
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And If An Old Man Dies
AND IF AN OLD MAN DIES
(Yet another reflection on Koheleth)
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him nothing-
And if an old man dies and leaves behind
Much family and wealth
And friends who remember him-
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him
A reverenced work
Esteemed through many generations-
And if an old man dies
With a name mankind wishes to take with it to its own grave-
And if an old man dies
And nothing survives of humanity
And all his works and wishes
Bound up with the being of others
Who earthbound will die with the Earth
Or transformed into other kinds of being elsewhere
Lose eventually their essential humanity-
And if an old man dies
As all die
And if we stand forever alone in a universe unknown,
Then what else is there but praying to God
And hoping
That somehow beyond it all in some way we cannot now understand
An old man‘s death will be more or less
Than what we can think or know it to be now-
And if an old man dies,
And somehow never dies
And if God saves us all
And if we are surprised
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pitiful
as I recall when my stomach turned
and I was hiding away from myself
away from you
like nothing but something was terribly wrong
and I admit that I was only waiting for the right time (right time)
right moment for you to look away
though you never did I pretended for a while
so I could walk where I don't belong
I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was too beaten
pitiful so pitiful
but I know as they hammered those nails
into your beautiful hands
your eyes they tried to search for mine
but I look away
now your eyes are the only thing that can save me
I'm still afraid of them piercin'
you break into my prison
just pretended for a while
my soul is sad and I walk away
I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was too beaten
pitiful so pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
so pitiful
and I remember every word you said
but this time I won't look away
and I remember every word you said
and this time I won't look away
and I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was so beaten
pitiful so pitiful
and I remember every word you said (pitiful)
come back in time come back (pitiful)
and I remember I was too beaten (pitiful)
pitiful so pitiful
song performed by by Blindside from Silence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words between words
Words between words
~
I try and say most things subtle
To slip words between words
In the hope you will read and hear
Sometimes I speak with blunt honesty
Sometimes wish I just didn’t speak
Sketching in secret characters
Telling stories built on fantasy
When a subtle look reveals
The obvious biography
Those words between words
What I write, what I speak
I understand words more than people
Words always seem easy
We all have things we wish to say
Some are said, others kept
All that is written then spoken
Are words between words
poem by Matthew Holloway
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There Used To Be Days
There used to be days,
when i was a witty and humorous guy,
that i could make people laugh,
until they start to cry,
and i would often create stories
filled with such a humor and joy,
that everybody would ask me
how can u do it every time oh boy.
There used to be days....
Often i would tell things in such a way,
and often i would act in such a way,
that nobody could resist to laugh,
however hard they may try,
and even if it would be late for the day,
and even if i would be done for the day,
people used to hold me by hand,
and they wont let me say good bye.
There used to be days....
While i was cruising really very fast,
one day something happened that almost broke me apart,
and in those few hours of storm,
i lost whatever wit and humor i ever had,
i thought the things would improve,
but nothing happened as the days passed by,
and i the witty and humorous guy became a silent and shy guy.
but there used to be days...
now nobody laughs at my jokes,
however hard i may try,
and in such a despaired state i am,
that for myself often i cry,
But my heart says to me, keep on giving a try,
life would flip again someday,
and people would again start to laugh at my jokes,
whenever any i will say,
but till now only i can say
that there used to be days...
poem by Sunny Mittal
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Possibilities
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Little Talk
while the examination in civil law
was going on
i went out the room tired of my role
as inspector
and there i saw the two of you
talking under a tree
with leaves lush like the curly hair
of a healthy boy
we were talking about irrelevance
priesthood and perhaps marriage
the vagabond images of things
fleeting and fleeing from our grasps
like birds seeking warmer places
in the East as winter approaches
then there was silence
perhaps we were having second thoughts
about the words we let go off our mouths
perhaps we do not believe really what was in our minds
regrets, these feelings that waste us
things-ought-to-be-this and that
silently the hours sat with us
groping for a hold about why
and then the leaves fell because the wind blew
and then we saw the moon
exuding light
upon us the truths had long left
and we find ourselves grappling with the fake delicacy of our lies.
we wanted to understand and be so discriminating
we ought to be and yet we never did
and something so misunderstood kept beating around the bush
we chose not to
because we really cannot.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mexicans
Why is it that when a police officer sees a group of white friends he smiles, waves, and even stops bye to say hello, But When he sees a groups of brown people playing soccer he stops gives a fake smile and leaves, but after a while he comes back and checks on them ask what their doing or why there there he suspects of them more than anyone else he hides and stares he looks at every play he wait till everyones gone while the group of white people laugh, making the browns feel like criminals, so when everyone leaves the officer gets down from his poloce car and checks for any drugs so....why is it that when police sees a white group he smiles and stops to say hello when at the browns he stops and says whats going on? ..suspecting
poem by Yazmin Flora
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Tell Me
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
Every time you stay
It never feels quite the same
An every time you go
It hurts a way you'll never know
I guess your stories make me feel
Like its alright now
Everything i fear
Shows itself every time you're here
And everything I know
Leaves with you every time you go
I wish your stories
Could erase everything that i said
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
You loook that way
Don't want to see you look that way
You talk that way
Dont want to feel this way
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
song performed by by Goldfinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I thought it was spring
I know Algebra
and Calculus too
and I wish for a world
where there’s only
you and I.
No other persons
to complicate things
and to tell you stories
of their perspectives
which changes like the wind.
Maybe our little zoo
should be there too
as life without children
is a miserable place.
I can calculate
and comprehend things
but cannot understand
your mind and your feelings,
but neither do you
and I thought
that I know your body
and every contour
and line of it,
but I am lost within
and without it
and I didn’t really want
to master you,
but wanted to show
to what depths
love could go
and why I failed
I do not really know
and maybe another
will have more to give
and to take
and I less mistakes to make
and now that you are gone
and I had to go away
my life just drags on
and I miss you more
than I know
how to say.
The shadows draw long
like some words
in your sad songs
and I see clouds
gathering on the horizon
and I wonder
what the new dawn brings
while the wind is filled
with leaves of this autumn
and winter is almost setting in
and I thought it was spring.
poem by Gert Strydom
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World's Divide
Lost in these times
Its hard to make up our minds
This is the reason
We're convicted for our crimes
So we wait
Scars on our face
They show the importance
Of finding a way to leave this place
But then we're left with
Nothing substantial to hold
And I'm afraid that
Our stories will never be told
Some people carry on
Some just stay right where they are
Our worlds divide the sight
I'd rather move along
Knowledge is not very far
Our worlds divide the sight
When innocence dies
It tends to shake up your life
Let it consume you
And then leave it all behind
I need escape
From the choices we made
And the feelings of longing
That are standing in our way
Don't give up on hope...
DON'T GIVE UP ON HOPE...
Don't give because its hope that binds us
Pain that guides us
Who do we trust when those things remind us
Its hope that guides us
Pain that binds us
Who do we trust when they're not behind us?
song performed by by Flaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Leaves
Beautiful leaves falling down,
Help me regain the sorrow in my eyes,
Beautiful leaves shimmering on a bright night,
Reassure me that I will laugh again,
Beautiful leaves changing colors,
Give the world a meaning of life
Beautiful leaves crumbling on the ground,
Let the birds chirp they're song once again.
Beautiful leaves tumble down,
Understand how I feel,
Beautiful leaves growing around,
Feel my sorrow and sadness
poem by Lucy Gocher
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Tangled
Im full of regret
For all things that Ive done and said
And I dont know if itll ever be ok to show
My face round here
Sometimes I wonder if I disappear
Would you ever turn your head and look
See if Im gone
Cause I fear
There is nothing left to say to you
That you wanna hear
That you wanna know
I think I should go
The things Ive done are way too shameful
There is nothing left to say
To you
That you wanna hear
That you wanna know
I think I should go
The things Ive done are way too shameful
And Ive done you so wrong
Treated you bad
Strung you along
Oh shame on myself
I dont know how I got so tangled up
song performed by by Maroon 5
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mannequin
As I was walking behind the night
I heard a low whispering off to my right
It was the pitter patter of rumor chatter
Skipping along beyond my sight
My ears started to ring
And every last breath started to cling
As I
Prepared to amend or defend
This fortress and its king
I spun through the dark, tried to conceal my fright
But the night turned on me and I was caught in the light
My fear grew crisper and the shadows of whispers
Became the faces of misses and misters
Going and going, their paces well practiced
I couldn’t tell genuine from actor and actress
Mannequins never had a smile so plastic
'Look me in the eye, ' said the woman in sunglasses
To hear such kind words that can’t make you warmer
Leaves a smirk in place of your armor
It’s what you get used to, not what you like
Laugh with friends sometimes to just be polite
People you know and love share this affliction
It was once a disease, now an addiction
And though we don’t smile at all that we see
We’re all mannequins
And we're all fake to some minor degree
poem by P.R. Prosper
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When The Leaves Come Falling Down
I saw you standing with the wind and the rain in your face
And you were thinking bout the wisdom of the leaves and their grace
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
And at night the moon is shining on a clear, cloudless sky
And when the evening shadows fall Ill be there by your side
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place beside the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space before the twilight and the dawn
Oh, the last time I saw paris in the streets, in the rain
And as I walk along the boulevards with you, once again
And the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place between the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space between the twilight and the dawn
And as Im looking at the colour of the leaves, in your hand
As were listening to chet baker on the beach, in the sand
When the leaves come falling down,
Woe in september, when the leaves come falling down
Oh when the leaves come falling down
Yeah in september when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falting down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I Loose My Words
Sometimes I loose my words,
sometimes they just disappear
while we walk on the beach
see gulls flying away, flying off
but there is something in the silence
of touching mouths, in meandering steps
that leaves lonely tracks at the sea,
while words become more yours
are like morning glories waiting,
climbing over walls growing,
constantly growing and stretching
but always waiting on the summer sun
while my silences get some own distinct words
as you understand me to the depths of my soul
as your are filling every part of my life and body
but I want you to hear my voice in bliss and pain.
Troubled winds, of past heartaches, of a past war
still blows right through me, while you bring
a new kind of hope, new dreams and joy to life
and a new understanding of how things can be
and I want you to be my companion in everything,
to stay with me while the storm still roars in my life
to be constantly the only one that really knows me,
to follow me on every step in this ravaged world
but you constantly are in everything,
filling my life, my body, my mind
with your kisses, a kind of strange bliss
and that is the way that everything it is.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Phobia
Tremors wrack my entire body
Painful adrenaline sweeps through
Fear at everything, fear at nothing
If only you knew...
If only you knew how the heart speeds up
How the chest clenches
How the lungs contract
How the heart wrenches
The back aches
The eyes sting
The hands curl
Afraid of the thing
There is nothing there
Yet there is indeed something
Of that there is surety
As the ears ring
Eyes leak saltwater
Head pounds
Happening again
But still astounds
Every night for no reason
Fear slides into me
Fear of the darkness, of nothing at all
Fear of nothing there to see
There's no reason to be afraid
The fear is unbearably childish
It slides in like a venomous snake
To have it go away is my only wish
Alas, a true phobia never leaves
It stays and torments it's possessed
It sickens and controls the person
Until that person is hopelessly obsessed
poem by Lenore Lee
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They Don't Think So-The Rationale of Robert
I am a bad person
At least I have done bad things
I admit it.
Lied, hurt others, cheated
and things worse.
yes, I know.
All bad.
But I don't really believe that I
am a bad person.
I am a good person
who has done bad things.
Most I am sorry for;
some I am not as much
as I should.
But what am I to do?
A good person
trapped by my own bad deeds.
Should I flagellate
repent, confess?
But why?
The deeds were bad, not I.
A really good person could see that
and forgive me.
A bad person can not and will not.
So, I guess they are bad just like me.
Now that leaves the good people
who see that bad deeds are not me
and forgive.
They even may forget.
But the fact they able to do that
makes me feel inferior.
They think they are better than me
and that is bad.
So, if they make me feel bad
then they are not really good people.
So, you see the whole world is just like me
even if they don't think so.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Marriage Fears (Pidgin Version)
Marriage!
You yan am, my heart race
A lady 24/7 look my face
Na me go dey plead her case
Now my uniform go be lace
I never wan crase
Neva need someone, unlike Faze
Marriage!
You yan am, some go feel rage
For this age
Make I put myself for cage
Even Solo wey just engage
Don dey seek another page
Thier love tank no dey gree gauge
Marriage!
You yan am, some go rake
What if the geshi na fake
And no dey quick wake
What if she no sabi bake
24/7 go be corn flakes
What if her mouth no get brake
You go drown me for lake
Marriage!
whoever yan am, Charlie go hate
If no be for Kate
Hin broda Jo for never late
Jo ego, she deflate
Maybe because her Papa na magistrate
Na she dey dictate
Marriage!
Yan am, some go start to pray
Make dem no go be prey
All the money dem go need pay
Before dem release the geshi hin way
Later later, she fit runaway
With Chief wey get better pay
Marriage!
Yan am, some go lie flat
Abeg God light my path
Make us tight even if we start with mat
Make we no dey fight because one of us fat
Make our love pass body parts
We no one be like cat and rat
We bind tit for tat
Marriage!
Guy, dem yan am, your heart no suppose race
Neva think of am as a cage
No bobo or geshi be fake
If only una go well relate
But, you go need pray
Make God light una path.
poem by Ayandare Mayowa
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47
Keep it for a while, it will not go anyway
Let it stay with you and let both of you talk awhile
Give it the warmest bed and the softest pillow
And pray that it will have the soundest sleep for the night
Both of you will soon understand each other
Why it is here, why it is painful, what is the rationale of its existence?
How it is that it must be with you, and how is it that you do not understand at first,
You and pain become friends now, it explains itself, and hugs you
It will sooner understand you and you will understand it
Then it leaves gently, and you wake up the following morning
You cry, you have understood it completely and crazy
You miss it somehow; you even wait when it will come back again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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