Glad About Grey
Glad about grey clothes to resemble Susan,
Death’s granddaughter-governess à la Mary
Poppins, an office in which to sit on a high
chair to keep my back straight
A fan to stir the oxygen-free air while the air-
con is broken, lovely books I brought to the
office to combat Not-Fully-Effective traits
when I cannot concentrate
French course starting this afternoon, though
scared of what endurance required to wade
through ice-cold rules, stifling tables & killer
facts; driving there will be fun
Enjoyed a meal at the local eatery with only
one metal piece in the food, I suppose from
washing, meaning the cutlery is clean, so
it’s a mercy of course
Drops for infection in ears and fizzy drink
fighting germs, after the class I can hurry
home to seek solace in stories about
happy people and dreams
The only thing to lament is inability to take
charge of my mind to bend it to become
Fully-Effective and thus prevent it from
growing Totally Dysfunctional
I am glad I am here, I could never dig a
garden and drive a lorry while smoking
out criminals like my twin sis!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Discordant Note
Little stories for little people lifting my thoughts from
eternal battle and strife to survive life without hope in
a future except what I can fantasise, an ability almost
lost as Less-Than-Effective reaches for Mediocre – a
status I have not even reached yet and which I detest,
I suppose Fully-Dysfunctional suits me better; constant
battle in my mind is not all that much fun
Living in a perfect world where I am the only discordant
note, being the only failure tolerated among my seniors
who love routine and doing boring tasks without going
out of their minds; I stopped making up stories and life
lost all its colour and spice – so I shall make up stories
again and put in all the beautiful things I missed so
much, taking care not to involve anyone else
Except the characters of my favourite authors, they do
not mind me being stupid and lost, they kick-start the
games that give zest to life, looking beyond the surface
to see the dreams that no-one ever need to bring alive
for them to give meaning to every idealistic treatise I
love to read, strengthening belief in an expanded
consciousness when my body dies and I shall
Break free from this perfect world in which we live...
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Feel Better Again (Revised)
Still suffering youthful impatience, charging
a T-junction full-speed, my cursory glance
revealed no cars but a grey vehicle passed
where none should be -
Blasted woman ought to warn of her sedate
approach with lights on, I'm swerving and
manoeuvring competently, blue VW Golf
driving much too slow in the fast lane
A Mercedes overtook it, I followed suit zipping
back to the fast, road free for acceleration, a
lovely challenge lending spice to life, in the
office I seek to prolong a winning streak
Soda-cleaned my stained mug pristine, vile
document to be dealt with, French class to be
planned, schemes to prevent brain short-circuit
when facing subjunctives and irregular verbs
Fear already making me irritable -
what else can I clean to make me
feel better again?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Live With Myself
Suddenly meaning fell into one of the black holes
in my mind, suddenly numbers had no meaning
and I thought 11: 30 meant 12: 30 and ran from
the office, ready for my free afternoon - just to
discover it was still an hour before I could go
Slinked back, not much chastised though, actually
quite glad for evidence to substantiate my claim
time is sucked into a black hole in my mind from
time to time, my colleagues did not even blink
confronted with my antics
Great to work with them, other people like me are
scary - I am scary too; I feel safe among those who
are normal, although it is difficult to fit in, only at
home I practice my accents and burst into song -
by now I know it is never done
By anyone claiming to be a sane human being, except
by well-paid artists and true eccentrics; as I am none
of these, just a government official - have mercy on
my poor victims and most important, pity me - who
have to live with myself!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Tables and Chairs
The tables resent the chairs, apt to sit
Like the people who sit, forming froth
And food, tables so clean, a likeable soot.
This may disguise chemistry, even biology,
Between the anger and hatred is beauty,
Fully we admire them who talk of it.
The table is sweeter with food than the chair with people,
And who does not eat on this furniture of the soul,
This future of living, kindness is adored,
For we are abhorrent in conversation, in laughter.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Chair
Well, excuse me, but I think youve got my chair.
No, that ones not taken, I dont mind
If you sit here, Ill be glad to share.
Yeah, its usually packed here on friday nights.
Oh, if you dont mind, could I talk you out of a light.
Well, thank you, could I drink you a buy?
Oh, listen to me, what I mean is can I buy you a drink?
Anything you please.
Oh, youre welcome, well, I dont think I caught your name.
Are you waiting for someone to meet you here?
Well, that makes two of us glad you came.
No, I dont know the name of the band, but theyre good.
Arent they, would you like to dance?
Yeah, I like this song too, it reminds me of you and me.
Well, baby do you think theres a chance
That later on I could drive you home?
No, I dont mind at all.
Oh, I like you too, and to tell you the truth
That wasnt my chair after all.
Oh, I like you too, and to tell you the truth
That wasnt my chair after all.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Metal
Pop
Uh
I played tag in the auto graveyard
I looked up at the radio tower
Rag tent by the railroad tracks
Concrete poured over steel bridge
Pondered my fate
While they built the interstate
Im a product of america
From the morgue to the prisons
Cold metal, when I start my band
Cold metal, in my garbage can
Cold metal, gets in my blood
And my attitude
Yeah, a huh
Threw my hide in an automobile
Heard a song called drive the wheel
Truckers, trailers, tractors caught me workin
This is the song of my heritage
From the bad to the buddha
Cold metal, thats what it be
Cold metal, from sea to sea
Cold metal, its how we win
And also how we sin
How we sin, how we sin, how we sin, how we sin
Cold metal, in the afternoon
Sounds lovely like a hendrix tune
Cold metal, its the father of beat
The mother of the street
Cold metal, it rolls on by
Cold metal, gonna raise it high
Cold metal, itll even fly
Rust buckets in the sky
Cold metal, got to be
Skeleton of the free
Cold metal, its gotta be
Better save a tree
Save a tree, save a tree, save a tree, save a tree
Yeah
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Glad God Is
Be glad that God is truth and light
Through Christ we have His strength to fight
Be glad we have His gift to pray
That still He calls to those astray
Be glad, that God is not like me
Before He came to set me free
Before my life had seen the change
Where now to self I’m often strange
Be glad that God is not like us
Such trivial things we make a fuss
The food we eat the clothes we wear
But not of that we have to share
Be glad that God is not like you
Too short of sight to share His view
For Heaven's Lord is pure divine
Pouring out love like common wine
Be glad that God is not like they
Who sit puffed up, who waste the day
Who know it all and then some-more
Be glad it’s God who keeps the score
Be glad, that God is not like she
To shake or stir she can’t agree
Though God sends forth His Dove as guide
Heaven or hell she can’t decide
Be glad that God is not like him
Who’s cup has evil to the brim
The devil thought Christ Jesus less
So don’t give Darkness your address
Be glad that God is God indeed
He meets in life our every need
Perfect in love forever true
My God I’m glad that You are You.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Only Darkness Is Left
Great days of freedom and fun,
now I am back, stuck in my chair,
stuck with a text, stuck with myself -
that's it, I'm stuck with ME and I'm
boring myself to death
Dying while trying to read a light-
hearted fantasy, dying while listening
to a cold dissertation on children's
literature by adults who remonstrate
with me for reading it
WRONGLY, we're not supposed to read
anything for enjoyment, life is supposed
to be hard and we should suffer - only
they are smart and suffer in an adult,
grown-up way while I
Suffer like a child - unable to be cold
and cynical about the general human
condition of waging wars for survival
and fighting for justice, spreading
suffering more equally
We cannot lift ALL people to a state of
joy and privilege - but luckily we can
attain brotherhood and equality by
dragging all people down to the
same desperate state
Cynical and cool adolescent insight
into the useless nature of life - at
least I am glad to oblige these
people by admitting life is hell -
now I feel better again
Glad in finding compelling reasons for
my stupidity and low IQ, my inability
to concentrate - I was put on earth
to make clever people look good -
my pain is meaningful
Serving as the black background of
ignorance against which the bright
intelligence of more privileged
human beings appears to
more advantage
I am cast as the class dunce - once I
accept my role of being an attendant
to my superiors I can gambol again,
happy in the reassurance that others
are blessed by me:
Their brilliant shine appears more
scintillating against a sombre back-
ground of idiots with black holes in
their minds which suck in the light
of knowledge until
Only darkness is left...
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Life is Lovely
I’m doing my best to realise your ideal – I mean
being true to being unhappy, but I am surrounded
by dysfunctional people - who enjoy being happy
Rima is laughter personified, Christine thinks life
is lovely, just for her to be amused and surprised
Hanlie insists on making the world beautiful with her
wonderful being, June is delighted with her house in
Gordon’s Bay, Martin is satisfied with the ideals he
sees being realised by two amazing kids following
his advice, my daughter shines in movie treats
My son dreaming big; at the office everyone breaks
out in smiles, I am really trying to get in touch with
my inner pain but it eludes me at present, though
I shall not give up in trying to reach the depths
of despair you prescribe, in deference to your
Amazing ability to find unhappiness behind every
happy façade, I am so glad you kindly informed
me how unhappy everyone has been and how
deeply mortified everyone should be once they
realize the pain in their hearts – yet right now
I am going with the flow of dysfunctional people
all being so happy they don’t even know how
terribly unhappy YOU know them to be, just
know I am working on it…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Free
Dont sleep til the sunrise, listen 2 the falling rain
Dont worry bout tomorrow, dont worry bout your pain
Dont cry unless youre happy, dont smile unless youre blue
Never let that lonely monster take control of u
Be glad that u r free
Free 2 change your mind
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime
Be glad that u r free
Theres many a man whos not
Be glad 4 what u had baby, what youve got
Be glad 4 what youve got
I know (my? ) heart is beating, my drummer tells me so
If u take your life 4 granted, your beating heart will go
So dont sleep until youre guilty, cuz sinners all r we
Theres others doing far worse than us, so be glad that u r free
Be glad that u r free
Free 2 change your mind
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime
Be glad that u r free
Theres many a man whos not
Be glad 4 what u had baby, what youve got
Be glad 4 what youve got
Soldiers are a marching, theyre writing brand new laws
Will we all fight together 4 the most important cause?
Will we all fight 4 the right 2 be free?
Free (be glad that u r free)
Free 2 change my mind (free 2 change your mind)
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime (free 2 go most anywhere,anytime)
Im just glad, Im just glad Im free, yeah (be glad that u r free)
Theres many a man whos not (theres many a man whos not)
Glad 4 what I had baby, (be glad 4 what u had and)
Glad 4 what I got, oh yeah (for what youve got)
Oh Im just glad, Im just glad Im free,yeah (be glad that u r free)
Free 2 change my mind (free 2 change your mind)
Free 2 go most anywhere, anytime (free 2 go most anywhere,anytime)
(be glad that u r free)
(theres many a man whos not)
Im so... (be glad 4 what u had and for)
(what youve got)
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Manager
For me money is cotton
For you it`s freedom
Nowadays it`s fashion-
An American Dream!
So you strive to get the beam
To work like a robot
For the sake of the cotton dream.
You`re a mean value maneger
You never work under, you take higher
This century is yours, hold your computer
A human is nothing, but his career.
You`re the luckiest
You work in the office
You`re the luckiest
You work in the office
Oh, yeah baby
Your fate isn`t silly nor wicked
Your bucks is saved by your cent
Step by step, untill you get blind
It`s OK you are almost dead
As far as the Boss is fully glad
Im the first who admit
We all need the money
So, shall we get mad?
It`s a real calamity...
Step by step, until you get blind
Step by step, until you get blind
Step by step, until you get blind
Step by step, until you get blind
The main thing is to know for sure
Where`s your place and who you are
No doubt, near a fool you`re smarter
Happiness for me means freedom
For you - Disney Land
You`re the luckiest
You work in the office
You`re the luckiest
You work in the office
Oh, yeah baby
You work in the office
Oh, my God!
Translated from Russian. The Leningrad band 'Menedjer'
poem by Emma Adamyan
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Famous Movie Poem - Mary Poppins
(this is a poetry in progress)
childhood years flew
...flew away like a mary poppins
now you can only see
them drifting in memory sky
your crave to be back
intense as rain
that sweeps once more
through the clear blue sky
childhood years
are god's sanctuary
(sorry for those few
unfortunate ones)
for men to seek
solace on days
of stress and trial
and of course
inviting lovely
personalities like
mary poppins back
for her thrilling
pyrotechics
and ribtickling
advice...a little sugar makes
the medicine go down
a little sugar makes
the medicine go down
her feet a parallel line
leaving a vast space
for us to trot and join in
her lines
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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With No Escapes From It To Exit
There is no other way to address truth,
But to be prepared to be stripped naked...
Bare,
With the exposing of every blemish.
Since truth is not seeking to be impressed.
Truth is on a mission to uncover honesty.
And many are still unbelieving,
The depth of which truth sees without explanation...
To deceive what is already revealed.
When truth is in one's presence and is fully awakened,
With no escapes from it to exit...
Foolish is the time taken to charade in masquerade,
To evade it with a wasting away of one's time.
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escaping undetected,
Truth...
Is very effective.
Once fed truth it manifests.
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escaping undetected,
Truth...
Is very effective.
Once fed truth it manifests.
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
With no escapes from it to exit,
Truth...
Is very effective!
And truth will not be neglected...
To reject!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For The Rest Of My Life
for the rest of my life
i will take the same routine
home, office, school,
home office, school,
a straight life confined
in a certain space
too confined and too
tight for my soul
and too boring
for my body
home, office, school,
school, home, office,
you ask me if there is
something wrong with
my life? there is nothing
right in it, everything has
always been wrong
and everyday has always
been an attempt to correct
it, but nothing
nothing has fit into it
to cut the routine to
break me from the
chains of everyday
nothing comes and nothing
goes, i think, that is how
it is meant to be,
i think, i simply have
to imagine, make some
figments of stars, and moon
and sun and mountains
and seas and valleys
and castles and princesses
and kings and queens
and too they become routine
too, some poems and stories
some people that do not
actually exist, some imaginary
earth, imaginary creatures
they are all here, in this routine
of imaginations, of poetics
of illusions and allusions,
these lines, my life, these routine
and all my excuses, you and I.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sensations Invented
It is so clear,
What is here!
What is near,
And appears.
Regardless of those,
Who choose to listen...
With opened ears.
It is apparent,
As the feeling in one's fingertips.
Even if some are numb to these senses...
The implementation done,
Has been imprinted.
Without effective lament.
Sensations invented,
Are meant to be left as sentiments.
Emotions within to mend with a willingness...
Are absent of attention.
At least hints intended,
Are not given to them.
It is so clear,
What is here!
What is near,
And reappears.
Regardless of those,
Who choose to listen...
With opened ears.
It is apparent,
As the feeling in one's fingertips.
Even if some are numb to these senses...
The implementation done,
Has been imprinted.
Without effective lament.
And we,
The people...
Receive beliefs under steeples.
Although through a peephole we peek.
To behold as told!
With full comrepension,
We desperately seek.
Prisoners of limited knowledge told.
To live with wishes to fulfill.
But then to become victims,
To that which we do not know!
It is so clear,
What is here!
What is near,
And appears.
Regardless of those,
Who choose to listen...
With opened ears.
Dismissing an acceptance,
That could be generated but disappears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wish For Release
Scared to return to the office to sit
in a chair that does not meet the
need for a correct sitting position
as the desk is too high for the office
chair I bought myself and the bar
stool I have is causing neck-ache
I don't know who to ask and where
to go to get my work station fixed
and raise the computer screen so
my head is not forced to hang down
and increase the pain in my neck,
I receive medication to force
my brain to ignore the pain
Will this help me to sit in the wrong
position until I am dead in my chair?
I ardently wish for release in what-
ever way if I cannot be freed from
the chair and the pain...
Saturday 21 June 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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No Recidivists
No recidivists
When clever Dr Guillotine
perfected his humane machine
for executing criminals.
It was accepted straight away
as being a much better way
of executing criminals
The state made no apology
for using this technology
for executing criminals.
The product of a brilliant brain
He was convinced it caused less pain
when executing criminals.
The guillotine’s not used today
It was a most effective way
of executing criminals.
Though not regarded as P.C
I think it proved effectively
that executing criminals
Ensured they did not re-offend
Results on which we can depend
by executing criminals.
You may see this as cruelty
Some states do not as you can see.
They still execute criminals.
10-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The day is dying in a local town
Rose petal pink, orange tingeing into white-grey
the evening twilight fades away,
the soldiers, from general down,
the lawyer, the city lark, accountant, the office clown
are disseappearing into the enclosing dark,
the homeless man, the vagrants sit smoking
in the municipal park,
with a few mucho men joking
in the packed bar, the evening star
glitters her hello, shines down
across the hugely deserted town.
Crème liqueur, dark red wine
are whirling in glasses of lovers,
mistresses, in the hands of men,
some lovely women
and a few local swine
who cavort and dine
and some are cold as cadavers,
intent on getting more
than their money’s worth
from those that they adore
and pour more and more
whiskey and wine.
Tyres burn embers from the road,
light dwindles with the day
traffic lights shine brightly green, amber and red
some drunks, some fighting men goad
each other in the local pub
while prostitutes walk around ready to play
asking, “hey what’s up? ”
ready to take any paying man to bed
to lie any way, even inverted
but most places are totally deserted
except the local houses
where lights gleam, people gather with spouses
caged behind bars, steel palisades with dogs patrolling
with no police cars rolling or anybody strolling.
The skyline dwindles into dark night
and street light after streetlight
appear like cheap cosmetic jewels
with curtains in windows flapping like towels
forgotten on the washing line
and everything declines into rest
while busses, trucks, trains and machines
are doing their best to work on
and everything human disappears and is gone
while unknown lights keep passing by
are passing in the dark sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Why Isn't Anyone Obeying The Rules?
Why isn't anyone obeying the rules?
'Rules?
Which ones?
The ones that were in effect,
That have been changed?
Or the ones no one ever obeyed,
After the changes were made...
To make the old ones more effective? '
That doesn't make sense.
'And maybe that's why they aren't being obeyed.
Which interpretation of rules are in effect?
And who's interpretation of those rules,
Should be respected?
If they aren't being followed by those who break them,
To obey,
Then who should say to whom what should be obeyed? '
What?
'Why repeat what is not in existence?
Does a cow drink its own milk,
To obtain stronger bones with a steady dose of vitamin D?
I doubt it.'
And...
Nevermind.
I am so glad I am not seeking explanation!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Got Back
Words and music by rick nielsen
Well just got back
Been gone too long
Wasnt my idea, didnt pull the trigger
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad to be back home, yeah
I just got back
Been a long long time
Wasnt my idea, didnt point the finger
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad to go home
You run the risk of falling
With some solitary sam
Ive sailed the seven sins a poly-future plan
A. paul calypso
Isnt really what it seems
This aint committee art
My god, is it a dream?
I just got back
I been asleep too long
Wasnt my idea what the doctor figured
Oh oh oh I i I Im just so glad
Im just so glad, Im just so glad, Im just so glad
To be back home
No no no no no no no no
Im just so glad
No no no no no no no no
Im just so glad
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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