Loves sword sharp tongue
How can you carve up my soul?
With such blunt words
haiku by Ken e Hall

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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword
He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.
So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.
In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,
This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.
But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,
Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.
He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.
He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'
poem by Vera Sidhwa

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How Shall I Build
How shall I build my temple to the Lord,
Unworthy I, who am thus foul of heart?
How shall I worship who no traitor word
Know but of love to play a suppliant's part?
How shall I pray, whose soul is as a mart,
For thoughts unclean, whose tongue is as a sword
Even for those it loves to wound and smart?
Behold how little I can help Thee, Lord.
The Temple I would build should be all white,
Each stone the record of a blameless day;
The souls that entered there should walk in light,
Clothed in high chastity and wisely gay.
Lord, here is darkness. Yet this heart unwise,
Bruised in Thy service, take in sacrifice.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

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Tongues
the tongue
of my body
is in the nerves
the tongue
of my soul
in the heart
the tongue of
my mind
in the head
the tongue
of truth and deceits
in the mouth
the tongue of
the World (Creation)
in the words
of God
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Sonnet: The Tongue
Tongue, the muscle belly in the mouth’s floor!
That grandmothers used to narrate folklore;
With sensors to taste the food that we eat,
And speak fluently with neighbors who cheat.
The boneless tongue gives creatures satiety;
In misdemeanor, speaks words so nasty;
The tongue-tied man cannot speak out too well;
The one with a long tongue argues like hell.
The tongue can emit both a soothing word,
And also cut like a double-edged sword;
The tongue helps one to sing a sweet song,
And touch one’s nose-tip whenever too long.
The tongue can start a war or conclude it;
Some stars use it for their kissing habit.
poem by John Celes

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He Loves You
His love will conquer anger
His love defies all words
He hears all the prayers that are spoken
And all the prayers unheard
His love is unconditional
He loves you when your wrong
He loves you when you disobey
His love for you is strong
He loves you when you stumble
He loves you when you fall
He loves us so much more than words
He really loves us all
He loves you when you call His name
He loves you when you cry
He loves you when your down and out
For us He sent his Son to die
He loves you when you're laughing
He loves you when you smile
He loves it when you praise His name
He loves you, you're his child
His love is never ending
Until the end of time
And once you just embrace His love
Your life will be just fine
For He's got the best intentions
Look at The Son of Man
Be honored through the joy & pain
You're a big part of His plan.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris

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Knives and vessals
Knives must be sharp and the vessels, blunt
For the kitchen maid’s comforts.
Hire the sharp people to deliver
And have fools around to adore.
25.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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The Forlorn Heart
Alone in the company of myself
How the walls seem ghostly quiet
Thoughts drift to a romance broken
The girl that never was or could not be
Stay my tongue lest I speak ill of love
The words of a broken heart are fierce
And sharp as any blade ever known
Cutting into the depths of the soul
The silence of the night haunting
And I alone mourn my own heart
What love, what girl I shall not name
For it pains to speak such words
And these walls, empty as they are
Have become my tomb, farewell love
Alone with a broken heart I yield
That which I was never to know
Were I a greater man than I
How would my own company stand
Would I know it alone at all
Would I know these ghostly walls
As I know too well my heart
My loves sad quiet demise
The forlorn heart exists
Where there is only myself and I
poem by Matthew Holloway

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He loves me, He loves me not
He loves me,
he loves me not
Like a fairy tale
a flower pedal
represents love,
but of course
He loves me,
he loves me not
There is no
I'm not sure's
or I like you, but's
just seven little words
He loves me,
He loves me not
There are no other girls
no jelousy or pain
no arguments, no humiliation
it all falls into
He loves me,
He loves me not
But what if...
it doesn't exist
if love is truly such a fairy tale
then explain this:
He loves me,
He loves me not
He loves me,
He loves me not
He loves me,
He loves me not
poem by Bailey Logan

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The sword the body wounds, sharp words the mind.
Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet IV
But Adrian, who was young and all athirst
For human joy, and turbulent and strong,
Grew discontent with her despairs and curst,
Nor spared he her the jibings of his tongue.
He mocked at her vain virtue and the words
She used to comfort him when sometimes she
With weak heart battling, like a troubled bird's
Which sees the nets, would ease his misery
With telling her own pain and making show
Of her soul's hunger to his hungry soul.
It only angered him, this prate of woe,
And back he thrust on her her beggar's dole
Of idle sighs. And ``If I have not bread,
For pity let me be and starve,'' he said.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

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Why?
Unaccountably, while I was making a liverwurst sandwich
(with mustard and cornichons on rye)
the poem took a dive
off the countertop, I don't know why,
onto the floor and burst into words
which can be either blunt or sharp, God knows.
There was nothing to do
but vacuum it up
eat the sandwich and, and,
put on shoes.
poem by Morgan Michaels

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Stage Master
He is an actor with brandishing sword in his hand,
Luckily his words are not sharp and pointed,
For he knows nothing but gimmicks to perform,
Day in and day out he shouts to himself.
poem by M.B.J. Pancras

Submitted by M.B.J. Pancras
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The Poem Not The Poet
she makes a mistake
having loved my poem
than myself,
she arrives at this
that i am more real there
than what i am
she loves making love
with the words
rather than my body
my torso she sets aside
my poems
the arms and legs
my metaphor the best
tongue ever
that licked the bare
shoulders of her soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The pen is mightier than the sword if the sword is very short, and the pen is very sharp.
quote by Terry Pratchett

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impromptu
Keep away from sharp swords
Don't go near a lovely woman.
A sharp sword too close will wound your hand;
Woman's beauty too close will wound your life!
The danger of the road is not in the distance;
Ten yards is far enough to break a wheel.
The peril of love is not in loving too often;
A single evening can leave its wound in the soul.
poem by Meng Chiao

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Clear Rejection
A moment
You said with pain and grief
If you are not there,
My Life stops
I have no demand
I need you to carry me
My soul was blended with your words
I felt my existence in your soul
A Moment
Suddenly you uttered
like a sharp sword
I am not interested in you
I want freedom from you
I am sick and tired of you
just go Away.................
Such a 'Clear Rejection' from You
A Moment
I realized clear rejection
upset mind for some time
but relives the heart for ever
Clear Rejection well in time
is appreciated at times........
poem by Seema Gupta

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The mute singer
She cut out her tongue
So she could sing
Those unheard songs
sung
She cut out her tongue
So silently
She could unspeak herself
Free, from prison words
She cut out her tongue
So that her soul could catch the light
And let it run
Through her body transparent
Prism shining out
She cut out her tongue
To free her self
From her self
Completion
Knitted under the skin of silence
Flying unseen
Into unexplored horizons
Without
Mother
Country
Point of
Trace
She cut out her tongue
To see the eyes
Behind the face
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith

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How Does It Feel
I know that youre out there
Knowing that theres someone out here thinkin of you
In your heart and in your mind
I know there is no doubt that someone loves you
And I know that you know
That Ill be waiting here when you have need of me
And when the world has chained you down
I know you know my love will set you free
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
I have come to know and love you
Like Ive never known or loved another
Words have not been made
That could describe these feelings we have for each other
And I would go to any length
To let you know at all times that I care
cause I want you to know
That any time you reach for me youll find me there
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know it
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know that someone
Loves you, someone loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Someone loves you, somebody loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel to know it
Somebody loves you
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the girl I call thee
Passion's sword cut thy lines for beauty to trace
And beauty did trace with all loves fever
Thou art a woman whose dream is to dream forever
So in other dreams you dream with them too
And make all dreams dreams come true..
Lost for words I'll let love speak
My love for you, my love you make
With passion's sword thy slice my soul
For thou to wear, for love's sake
Two thousand tears for one moment of love
Doth not quench the thirst of my melancholic palette
I love you as next to me I subtly taste
Thy soul, with my soul's love in love chaste
Beauty in my limpid tears, thou love's mirror
In my tears, thou tears do sear
Thy burnt tears emblazon love to me
My beloved, my heart, the girl I call thee
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Words
So many words are there in our speech,
they can be very poor, they can be rich.
No one can be indifferent to their meaning
as they are alive and express your feeling.
Spoken word is not just a sound,
it can’t be found on the ground,
it’s always in your head, sometimes in your soul.
When it is spoken it becomes a parole.
A word is an energy of your spirit,
it was presented to you by God, it’s His merit.
A word is a tool of communication,
A word is a source of information.
“A word spoken is past recalling”.
Strolling all around it can’t be found,
returned back and kept in your sack.
“The pen is mightier than the sword”,
that was told about a written word.
Words, words, words………………
They are love and seduction,
each one with a certain function.
They are wonders of sin
and songs of education.
They are salvation, temptation, affectation…
They can be an executioner,
they can be the owner of a whiner.
A word can be a treatment,
It helps when you are ill.
A kind word is better than a pill.
But…there are words that just kill.
They sound like a horrible drill.
Words, words, words…………
They are triumph and defeat,
They can be pleasant and sweet.
At the end of my message
I would like everyone to acknowledge:
Each word has a strength
and it doesn’t depend on its length.
So, think before saying a word,
as it is quite well heard even by walls,
it touches someone’s soul,
it shouldn’t be a wicked foul.
“Better the foot to slip than the tongue”.
And… there is no exception for the young.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

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