Modern Life View
Modern life view,
the cat observes from the little eye.
The castrate tree.
Forecast of the body
Skyscraper eyes
Necklaces and rings, of
Natural selection and physics
Rocks are 90% empty.
Worthless reading
Write on Guilt and sad
Bird in the sky on the
morning stands by.
Cruel nature,
Dying bee in a street of concrete
Feed of man
100 deaths are just numbers,
Leave it to the fate
The flow erected to penetrate.
The pants, where your hand molests.
The angels games
We have spread the universe, in straight line,
with shape and gods,
To the life, we invent.
poem by Luca Menin
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Related quotes
To Write About The Tree
to write about the tree and the sun
how do they ever stand each other?
is it the need? is it the love?
i cannot really write about it.
i always see them there as i sit under the tree's shade.
as i scorch myself under the sun's heat.
i could have written about the unfolding to the red flower
and the wonder of the grass.
i am helpless now.
i am addicted to something else inside the room.
on a dim light. on a warm bed.
do not say a name. do not mention about the shape of
the human body.
yes, it is. and will always be.
the human anatomy speaking about itself.
love is not a word there. it is a view. it is a touch.
it is beyond what is good and what is wrong.
it is the silence. it is the swallowing of what we are.
it is the rubbing of skin. until the universe
ejaculates what it keeps.
until the earth reveals what is in that womb.
it is the unreasoning of life's rules.
it is merely the flow.
nothing else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tears In God's Eyes
One man cant sleep in his penthouse bed,
Wall Street worries fill his head,
While another man dreams,
In his cardboard shed on Broadway.
Early morning traffic jam,
Wake up call for both of them,
Will work to eat
Asks easy street for small change.
And which one needs it more,
The rich man or the poor,
A change of heart and attitude,
Unselfishness meets gratitude.
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes,
Enough to make the angels cry,
When the power of love lifts someone above,
The emptiness of their unbearable life,
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes.
Late at night a baby cries,
His mother gives him life then dies,
But no one even by them to be sad.
And another woman fills the need,
Its her heart and his mouth shell feed,
When she gives her love to the child she never had.
Oh, and which one needs it more,
Its hard to say for sure,
When something grows, when nothing was
As strong as any bond of blood.
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes,
Enough to make the angels cry,
When the power of love lifts someone above,
The emptiness of their unbearable life,
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes.
Every minute, every day
A little miracles done,
Someone opens up their heart
And lets it shine like the sun,
Just the light of that one.
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes,
Enough to make the angels cry,
When the power of love lifts someone above,
The emptiness of their unbearable life,
Its enough to put tears in Gods eyes...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gestalt....
is it the shape?
the shape of your face, your heart,
is it just the shape, of your body, the color of your hair,
the kinkiness of your eyes,
is it just the shape of the bowl that matters to you?
what about the contents of the
bowl, or if it is empty, what about the air that fills it somehow?
do you see it? no you don't, so
it is not just the shape, neither just the parts,
or the whole, there is something more in shapes and colors
and
even contents,
there is the will that bends everything
to mercy
there is the decision that convinces us all
to be one, this sympathy,
that empathy, that belief that i cannot live
without you,
that someone dies when someone leaves,
that life is better with us
in all these,
that there is life after our deaths,
there is this
unseen coming, this one that we want to
grasp yet
because we think we failed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ages should be with me
What will you choose if you.........quoth he
My choice is not to keep mountainous age,
‘Tis my desire, 'Ages should be with me '.
..............Before the utterance of thought
Of the Palmist, gave my hand in his hand
With crabbed line and said, lo it has wrought.
'Ya, ............its Silver hand with moon's spot
But Fate...Ah! this line is..Right...self created
Lines! Sun, Mercury. Venus..Okay, but... The pot'
Sir, rays of your Eyes are very hot
Lest it should melt and mingle, please leave
Let me go now, have to work a lot.
'He defied, said wot, two life line..........
This is life line.....This is called sister line...
Ah, pines tree, you know, your life... Late shine '
Sir, Look, this life of mine will hie,
Not worried, laughingly I will depart
Saying everybody, Allah Hafiz and good bye
Worried.. Please, guide me to preserve
Eternity under the sovereignty of Allah
What deed I do so as to deserve? //
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
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Flying Away?
i like to see the image of a lone bird flying away from me
two steady wings carrying a very light body of blue feathers
a kingfisher flying away against the morning sun
moving nowhere getting farther until it becomes a blue dot
dissolving in the distance that your eyes can no longer see
i sometimes like to think i am that bird flying away
from where i am
because this place is sad and cruel
i like to fly away
to leave everything behind me and then simply forget
and make new beginnings
as easy as that
sometimes however i ask myself:
where shall i go?
nowhere?
just nowhere?
where is nowhere?
just fly away and go
and leave and
then what?
i ask myself these real questions
calling for rational answers
begging
that i be reasonable enough with my life
and the life of others
who also depend
on me
it is not an easy stuff,
just flying away to nowhere and destruct
everything i build here:
a nest, an odor of familiarity,
a sense of home
(though sad and cruel)
a name for myself
a reputation
a family history
an ancestral domain
shall i go then and be foolish?
i am not a bird, i am a man
that is a very serious existence apart from those feathery wishes and dreams
with responsibilities, i have no wings just arms, i have no feathers
but this body
i am not just a bird, i have a soul
and so i decided to stay
with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Numbers..
Numbers are cruel,
When the heart beats ninety per minute,
when pressure is, down very down,
High very high, fluctuating.
Numbers are cruel,
when wearing spectacles,
power can not be adjusted,
must buy a new pair.
Numbers are cruel,
when using Glucometer,
higher the reading,
must control the eating.
Numbers are cruel,
when one has thousand,
sometimes in negatives and
the other has millions.
Numbers are cruel,
when one is young and fresh,
and the other is old and in mess,
bigger the number, wiser.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Thousand Desires
Thousands of desires, each worth dying for...
Many of them I have realized...yet I yearn for more...
Why should my killer (lover) be afraid? No one will hold her responsible
For the blood which will continuously flow through my eyes all my life
We have heard about the dismissal of Adam from Heaven,
With a more humiliation, I am leaving the street on which you live...
Oh tyrant, your true personality will be known to all
If the curls of my hair slip through my turban!
But if someone wants to write her a letter, they can ask me,
Every morning I leave my house with my pen on my ear.
In that age, I turned to drinking (alcohol)
And then the time came when my entire world was occupied by alcohol
From whom I expected justice/praise for my weakness
Turned out to be more injured with the same cruel sword
When in love, there is little difference between life and death
We live by looking at the infidel who we are willing to die for
Put some pressure on your heart to remove that cruel arrow,
For if the arrow comes out, so will your heart...and your life.
For god's sake, don't lift the cover off any secrets you tyrant
The infidel might turn out to be my lover!
The preacher and the bar's entrance are way apart
Yet I saw him entering the bar as I was leaving!
Thousands of desires, each worth dying for...
>Many of them I have realized...yet I yearn for more
poem by Mirza Ghalib
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Shape Me Like A Man
Spark my body into existence
Breath your life into me
Fill these eyes with temptation
Work your mystery
Make me in the image you desire
Raise me up from the earth
Let me be your creation
Women, give me birth
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Put this broken body in motion
With a strong and natural drive
Fill my flesh with sensation
Women let me know Im alive
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Make me like a man
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Always Have Loved Mother Nature
I always have loved Mother Nature ever since I was a boy
And a thing of Natural beauty is always a thing of joy
And the mysteries of Nature is a mysterious thing
There is far more to any bird than the song it does sing
I always have loved Nature though my wonderment of her grow
And the more I learn about her the less about her I know I know
From humankind Mother Nature her secrets she hides away
And from our walks in Nature we learn every day
The only true immortal of which we will ever know
Us people like her Seasons to life we come and from life we go
I always have loved Nature and in that I'm not alone
Her secrets hidden in every bush and tree and hedge and under every stone
Her mighty rivers from her hills to her great oceans flow
And she has been around long before plants on her first did grow
In her bosom with all other life forms I will also lay
And I will love Nature till my last living day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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With this ring
With this ring
~
With this ring I thee castrate
An eunuch post wedding
No longer to drink with mates
Bound to the chores
The house to redecorate
With this ring I do castrate
Gone the late nights
Of booze filled legends
To which friends still recall
And leave messages
On a silent social network wall
Limited replies come
Due to access availability
With this ring I castrate thee
Gone the shape of the man
Who once stood proud
And exclaimed to the world
No woman shall ever tie me down
With this ring I castrated thee
A eunuch post wedding
Its married life for thee
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Hunger Camp At Jaslo
Write it. Write. In ordinary ink
on ordinary paper: they were given no food,
they all died of hunger. "All. How many?
It's a big meadow. How much grass
for each one?" Write: I don't know.
History counts its skeletons in round numbers.
A thousand and one remains a thousand,
as though the one had never existed:
an imaginary embryo, an empty cradle,
an ABC never read,
air that laughs, cries, grows,
emptiness running down steps toward the garden,
nobody's place in the line.
We stand in the meadow where it became flesh,
and the meadow is silent as a false witness.
Sunny. Green. Nearby, a forest
with wood for chewing and water under the bark-
every day a full ration of the view
until you go blind. Overhead, a bird-
the shadow of its life-giving wings
brushed their lips. Their jaws opened.
Teeth clacked against teeth.
At night, the sickle moon shone in the sky
and reaped wheat for their bread.
Hands came floating from blackened icons,
empty cups in their fingers.
On a spit of barbed wire,
a man was turning.
They sang with their mouths full of earth.
"A lovely song of how war strikes straight
at the heart." Write: how silent.
"Yes."
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Straight On
Straight on, down a dead end street, down the throat of life's sweet dream
Get swallowed whole by innocence, get eaten by the folks you meet
Straight on like a taser dart, fifty thousand volts of art
Just like a chip inside your head, to tell you when to stop and start
Straight on to the ticking bomb, to big ideas, walk the dog
to myths like our democracy, vote Roland Rat and ditch the lot
Straight on like an open blade, an empty house, a rabbit snare
A window breaking in the night, the words you didn't want to hear,
a moon beam straight into the sun, a bullet from a careless gun
Straight on, with no fashion sense, no goodbyes and no last dance
a marble from a catapult, a quiverful of simple plans
Straight on into life's great wall, right through into life's great fall
Then down the chute and up the drain, recycled into something small
Straight on past the next surprise, seeing stars through starry eyes
and straight into a web of whys to find the lie that satisfies
Straight on like a corner shop, as deadly as a chopping block,
As friendly as a lion's den, a hooded crow, a lonely walk
The rail beneath the bullet train, the fragile sense within a brain
Straight on into history, skidding at you down the street
Tomorrow's just a yesterday we're never quite prepared to meet
Straight on like a butterfly searching for a net of lies
Across the fields of promises where every kind of vulture flies
Straight on through the great taboo; very soon there's nothing new
And all you hoped for hunts you down, to benefit the chosen few
Straight on through the universe, the blood of all our children spent
And riding on the broken wave we never think of what they've lent
They're in the wind and swinging free, as we dance round the gallows tree
Straight on like we're broken glass; we know how to fix the crash
We detonate good will for cash, because we think all things must pass
Straight on to the latest craze to empty us of emptiness
And knock the walls down, welcome in, spectators from the internet
Straight on like we know what's straight, something like the figure eight
We're tumbling dice, we're playing blind, down by the river on a date
Straight on like you've broken through and know exactly what to do
But all at once there's no-one there, for in the end there's only you
A moonbeam straight into the sun, , a bullet from a careless gun
Straight on into you... straight on, .....straight .... on through
Straight on like an ego trip, an iceberg, a sinking ship
Straight on like it's no big deal, just like a performing seal
Straight on like a falling bird, full of lead to show we're tough
Straight on like a harpoon line hooked into the flesh of time
til suddenly you realise it's you that's fighting for your life
Straight on into you... straight on, .....straight .... on through
10 05 12
Big Tree
Big tree
Standing tall
Against setting sun
Majestic silhouette
Geometer's delight
Deep rooted trunk
Branches reaching the sky
Tree depicts life...
Every leaf
Shape so unique
Defining tree family...
Magical colors applied
By Creator's bold strokes
With the brush of seasons
Amazing panorama spreads out
Everywhere and all around.
Flowers spring out
Beauty and fragrance
Magical transformation
Into fruits
Nature transports seeds
To far off lands
It's a new cycle
Trees..forest...life.
Big tree
Stands still
Stands waving
I keep watching
Its far reaching ways
Tree gives us life
Tree gives us shade
To rest and contemplate.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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Hope of a Parallel Universe
The notion of parallel universes are a wonderful possibility
Thinking that I could be somewhere else but still be me
Interpretations of quantum physics truly keep me captive
Possibilities that we could live anywhere and life is adaptive
I love the angle of random selection and different chances
In another universe I would make other choices and advances
Possibilities of a Fata Morgana replicating my own existence here
Appears like an astonishing dream and let my small stuff disappear
Thinking that I would be with you in another world and space
Loving you just the same or even more is a thought I embrace
Right now and here while I mourn your absence and that I let you go
There I would be smarter and we be happy on a different plateau
In this other universe I may knew you from when I was a child
We would love each other from the beginning and later grow wild
I know that each morning I am right by your side and never leave
Life would be great and I am not sitting down thinking with grieve
Right there I would believe in you and give us a chance to grow
I would tell you that I love you and instead of good bye say hello
I harbor hope to live in a parallel universe with you and be free
To do all I dare not here and with you I forever be the real me
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Bout Through Life Reading Lists
what is required reading in life courses
reading faces thoughts body languages
what knowledge is worth pursuing
what knowledge is worth attaining
material possessions feed empty souls
egos exalted in property power displays
which life courses are value worth reading
some life addictions waste time soul learning
write life decisions mined in destinies
energy transfer character options time limits
will individuals embrace dog eat dog mentalities
step upon others ruthlessly to climb social ladders
sell souls to gain elevated esteemed social positions
or embrace kindness bestowed upon all philosophies
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Nature
I do not understand nature.
Cannot not match bird to song,
leaf to tree, petal to flower.
Too much learned at arm's length
the secondhand story that comes
from the TV or movies.
Out among the birdsong in all
its seasons I am confused,
out of my element, feigning
disinterest, not knowing where
to start. Reading poems about
milkweed, poppies, or a thing
as lovely as a tree does
somewhat perhaps fill the gaps,
or leave me empty
-for what have I missed?
What will I never know?
poem by Ronald Shields
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Tree Of Life
tree of life
tree of love
tree from god up above
this tree was implanted in our hearts at birth
to enjoy life and all its worth.
this tree posses all the love we hold
and controls our very soul.
the tree branches spread wide
to touch all of mankind
filling your bodies from hunger and quenching
the thirst within your soul
a wonderous beauty to behold.
the tree of life
gods sight
gods might
i give you my love
you give me your prayers
eternal life we will share
you in me-and me in you
this is what we have to do.
spreading the fruits of the tree
to all mankind, and of love divine.
poem by Louis Rams
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I Grieve
It was only one hour ago
It was all so different then
Theres nothing yet has really sunk in
Looks like it always did
This flesh and bone
Its just the way that you would tied in
Now theres no-one home
I grieve for you
You leave me
so hard to move on
Still loving whats gone
They say life carries on
Carries on and on and on and on
The news that truly shocks is the empty empty page
While the final rattle rocks its empty empty cage
And I cant handle this
I grieve for you
You leave me
Let it out and move on
Missing whats gone
They say life carries on
They say life carries on and on and on
Life carries on
In the people I meet
In everyone thats out on the street
In all the dogs and cats
In the flies and rats
In the rot and the rust
In the ashes and the dust
Life carries on and on and on and on
Life carries on and on and on
Its just the car that we ride in
A home we reside in
The face that we hide in
The way we are tied in
And life carries on and on and on and on
Life carries on and on and on
Did I dream this belief?
Or did I believe this dream?
Now I can find relief
I grieve
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Must You Do?
oh, those little things
like the brown grasses of summer,
a flower that blooms in the middle of those rocks
the worm that crawls its way slowly to the humid part
the black bird that stays alone on a branch
the tree that keeps on shedding off its leaves
the dry wind, the post in the middle of the rice field
a banana leaf torn on its sides
a concrete fence surrounding the university
these and those that people do not mind
are mine to write about
we make out our links to all these
we make our own definitions of the self
with what we also mean to them
the black bird staring, the concrete fence of indifference.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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