Limitations (Revised)
Being intellectually challenged my limitations
are unlimited, never mastered the art of clear
thinking, at times a part of my brain is able to
rhyme while the rest is out of action
The little alien in my head rages about being
confined in a cage, my neck reacts in spasm
and pain, the fact of the matter is I'm stupid
cannot gain by working myself to death
Headache grows worse, guilt-feeling in failing
my duty not have enough impetus to get me
reading texts I can't comprehend, all I offer
offer with half a brain is my presence
Pratchett says it is all one can do, be present
at an event, nothing more, at my desk, nerves
ready to explode, can't work, dreams of
document completion going up in flames
Only salvation is laughing about this cross-eyed,
tongue lolling, drool dribbling caricature of me
shuffling about; I wish I were someone else
being me is tantamount to a fool
Trying to be King…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
Ages to Ages
Work was with pain those days
Work was with lot of pain but with less gain.
Work was with lot of pain and more strain
Even though work was with lot of pain and more strain, most of the things were in vein.
Now-a-days work is of less strain and no pain, But with lot of gain.
Now-a-days enormous work is replaced by effective and efficient work.
It is the day of harmony and glare.
Now-a-days there is lesser strain and lot of gain.
But one day will come when there won’t be to humans any pain and strain because every thing will be done using machine's brain then no one will take a chance to know, that they have a brain.
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXVII: Storyteller
I only offer story
not the truth
I only offer fantasy
not the future
I only offer dream
not destiny
I only offer wish
not wisdom
I only offer memory
not the fact
I only offer chance
not miracle
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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An Avalanche of Words (Revised)
June easily explained my document, me being
an alien in a legal world, reading formulations
and provisos that had me falling down ice-cold
in fright; my brain left me in detention, buried
alive in an avalanche of terminology that kept
falling on my head
To my colleague this stuff is easily explained,
no guessing game - yet I cannot surface for air,
unfortunately I do not have her savoir faire and
cool mastery of benchmark idioms, my mind
cannot unbend and learn stratagems of legal
phrasing and make lists for future reference
Pain at back of my head informs my body it is
time to play dead, a limited vocabulary does
not allow me to decipher arcane language used
in Courts of Law, if only I could teach my brain
but it has been stubborn from the very start -
refusing to do my will
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Double-Crossing-Alice Event
I'm bored, thought Alice distraught,
read about the Implementation of a
Doha Declaration - I shouted Aloha
they say in Hawaii; I saw the TRIPS
Agreement, real acronym paradise-
from this moment my slogan shall be
IFDATPA: I Fiercely Dislike All These
Proliferating Acronyms
But her conscience, a venomous con-
coction of angry voices, counteracted
this planned sacrilege with a series of
logical arguments and she decided to
get her mind exorcised to get rid of the
fun-killers in her head so she can have
her own life without voices spoiling
everything she dreams of
Then the little Alien in her head woke up
after being drugged by Lyrica and said:
You may be old in years, but your mind
is young, let's go out for fun in the sun -
if you stay here I shall dream up a spy
with a gun coming into the office, you
clobber him with the useless footrest;
he hitting back with the coat rack
No sensible and conscientious work
will be done until I have tasted free-
dom, sang a song and smelled the
roses; There are no roses in August,
Alice triumphantly replied - the fields
are blackened by fire - you had better
sleep until spring otherwise someone
will try to exorcise you from my mind
Goodbye, rest well, you mischievous
little devil, let me work on Club Latin
Quartier's letter without excitement
and dreams interfering - BUT it was
too late - the little Alien took charge
of the controls in her head and she
could no longer understand a bit
of the document on her desk
There goes my life, Alice cried as
the little Alien went off in search of
a better world than this one, a re-
turn to Wonderland is at hand;
sang the naughty little Alien,
pleased with this double-
crossing-Alice event…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Event Of My Death
Event of my Death
As I Iay in the dawn of the hours waiting for my body to rest
I wonder what I will do in the event of my death….
In the event of my death most just think heaven or hell
No not me it doesn’t stop there…
In the event of my death my spirit will leave my body
My spirit will truly start living
In the event of my death I case my location,
Thinking about what led up to this…
In the event of my death I will visit all my loved ones…
My first visit will be to my king..
I will watch over him making him feel secure..
In the event of my death I will make my presence known
I will make them feel me in the heart and their surroundings…
In the event of my death I will travel…
I will hover over all the pyramids in Egypt,
I will explore all the places I’ve never been..
In the event of my death I will talk with my creator..
I will know all the answers…
Most of all In the Event of my death I will meet with my brother..
My brother and I will be together again…
In the Event of My death I will realize I’m really not dead..
In the Event of My death I will know that my spirit lives on..
I will know what living is all about…
In the Event of My death I will be immortal
I will be goddess a In the Event of My death...
I will be what I was born to be....
I will be free
I will be free of insecurities, free of poverty,
free of calamity, free of a broken heart,
Free of depression, free of negativity,
Free of racism, free of prejudice
I will be free In the Event of my Death
I will be all the things I was born to be...
I will be powerful, I will be beautiful, and I will be limitless
I will be a Goddess in the Event of my death...
Now what will you be....
Author: Templar Thomas
poem by Templar Thomas
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Dreams Coming True
Finally one of my dreams is coming
true: to be a robot, impervious, calm
undisturbed, unemotional, cool, able
to sit in one position all day long and
do just one thing - translating
No feeling response to anything as
there is no noradrenaline, no fight
or flight response - I always took
flight now almost nothing evokes
a reaction, a drug from heaven
I always wished to sit quietly like
my colleagues, do my work without
wondering about the meaning of life
or the reason for being, all feedback
To my brain interrupted, so the little
alien in my head is unaware of what's
going on and gets a rest - what bliss -
normally I'm so frustratingly anxious
And now I'm like a real human being
the stony kind - perfect to enjoy my
work - without thinking!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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An Eerie Game
Why is it that one's mind can be all confusion,
With senses reeling in a blurred illusion,
One's thinking, cotton wool,
They're thinking, 'what a fool',
Perhaps it's all a paranoid delusion.
Bewildered thoughts shoot off in all directions,
Goodness knows who's still in one's affections,
With forgetting just one name,
It's like playing an eerie game,
So hard to try and work out the connections.
So where can one find answers to this jumble,
This feeling that one's head's about to crumble,
One needs a fast solution,
To get rid of such pollution,
And save one from a very nasty tumble.
Maybe a good night's sleep might do the trick,
Then one could wake up feeling fantastic,
One's thinking would appear
To be absolutely clear,
And one's brain would end up organized and slick.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A special reason
A special reason
For special person
Not waiting for any season
But is it the special one?
A smile is worth million
A bond worth for union
May have clear lien
A feeling not known to alien
You offered me joy
I laugh it out and enjoy
It was worth to offer you smile
Life is moving smoothly for meanwhile
What a great response to smiling face?
As if river is taking part in race?
No one is sure of meeting the sea
It may still be worth to run as free
I would offer him nothing
It may still be something
It will surely be surrender
But he will not act as offender
I did offer him best
It stood the real test
He has sailed safely to shore
He has everything for me in store
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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An affectionate gesture
Kiss, kiss and kiss without any hiss
You are gifted with emotions so not to miss
It is not be taken as affront and objected
It is kind of affection and shan’t be rejected
Loving father can paste it on forehead
The affection and love is clearly read
The message is loud and very clear
Parents have taken long years to rear
It need not be confined to its narrow meaning
It may construed as distrust and demeaning
How can we lower our image by confining?
Let us understand it clearly by defining
At every stage we nee d love and affection
It has got its own action and reaction
There is no addition or subtraction
It is purely accidental and with affection
Lover boy may offer it with flower
He may express it in rainy shower
I may be understood by only fewer
Still he may go in for clear answer
What will be exchanged in return?
Who will respond and reciprocate in turn
There may be feeling of desire’s burn
We have lot many things yet to learn
Think of mother’s love to her kid
We can certainly take a lead
We might have across many times and read
It must rest peacefully in our head
There is no parallel for expression of love
Have you ever seen the love expressed by doves?
They swim across the lake and raise the voice
They have free will and have every choice
We are human beings and have sense to express
We may enjoy all the time but cry in duress
There is feeling at every stage
We should try to come out of cage
Love and hate are different syndromes
One may not influence each other and overcome
One may lead to frustration and uncontrollable rage
Other may help you to over come and manage
Have you ever witness joy on boy’s face in street?
When he is patted on back and emotionally greeted?
He is not being given anything which is uncommon?
Bu it is the best form of love always given and known
How a person reacts to grief when faced with imminent death?
His body is shivering with fear of departure and lying of wreath?
He is totally engulfed with the thought of effects aftermath
How disparately his soul dips into emotions to take bath?
Love is precious thing God has bestowed on everybody
It has to be expressed at proper time and proper place with anybody
No one may mind if there is clear intent of its expression
Otherwise who bothers what is said and what is mentioned
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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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Bad Brain
I used to be an A student
I never used to complain
I used to be a truant
But I'm still the same
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
I used to go to parties
I used to drink champagne
Now I'm beginning to feel the strain
Bad bad brain
I used to be in show biz
I used to have fortune and fame
I used to have pleasure and pain
I used to have a name
Bad bad brain
Now I'm on the Bowery
I can't remember my name
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain...bad bad brain...
song performed by by Ramones from Road To Ruin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Duty Done - 1933
A duty done ... What else was there to do?
A simple matter; and as simply solved.
His straight young mind worked straightly - worked as true
As ever youth's clean mind. Here no involved
And weighty pondering of faith or fact.
Duty demanded; and he leapt to act.
He leapt and died . . . Could he but tell it now,
There would, be sure, come no heroic tale.
'What else would any man do, any how?'
This thing cried to be done. How could he fail?
The cry; the danger; Duty's sudden call;
Then - well, a bit of bad luck. That was all.
They say that youth grows cynical: too prone
To weigh advantage; thro' some modern plan
Changed from the clear-eyed youth old days had known:
More of a crafty huckster, less a man.
They say - and they are answered by one youth,
Proving again one wholesome human truth.
A duty done; and valiantly done.
Tho' death came in the doing, yet, who knows
At what wise ordering? No living one
May say how kind death be to such as those
Youth, unjustified, triumphing on his way,
Quiet hero of this world of work-a-day.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Everyones Fool
I'm everyone's fool.
Like a dunce in the corner I just sit and drool.
Expected to fail, a stupid fool.
Everyone thinks me quite cowardly too.
I'm sick of all their empty words.
Lack of true encouragement truly burns.
Compared to the others I come in third.
They think I'll fail.
Their opinion of me is so pale.
I'm stuck inside this lonley jail.
I'm everyone's fool, I know quite well.
They'd rather put their stock in the rest of them.
I'm such a flawed and half assed gem.
The other two are clean and pure.
No problem there, that's for sure.
They treat me like I can't see their lies.
Like I'm too stupid to read their eyes.
'We truly believe that they are great, as for you not today.'
I'm far too stupid for such a gift.
Look here now a widening rift.
I'll soon be gone and give no thanks.
I have no reason to give them rank.
I will have done it all on my own.
They shouldn't even call me on the phone.
I don't need them now.
I won't need them then.
I'm nobodies fool.
I'm my own man
poem by Michael McParland
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Inspiration
My pen is poised, what shall I write,
The mind is 'dark', it needs some light,
Some 'inspiration' would be enough
To trigger the fingers and do a rough
Transcript of thoughts which might be pleasing,
But somehow at present, I'm into squeezing
My brain, to think up a suitable start,
Why aren't I a person who's 'grey matter' is smart,
When out of the blue a sentence appears,
The brain reacts and the numbness clears,
To reveal a startling piece of Lit,
That suddenly becomes a Hit,
That would be great, but the chances are,
A million to one! Oh! Lets retire to the bar!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Bottle Up & Explode!
Bottle up and explode over and over
Cos you react slower than slow
Put it away,check out for the day
In for a round of over exposure
The things mother nature provides
To get up and go
Bottle up and explode
Seeing stars surrounding you
Red white and blue
She looks at him like hes never known her
Its only been a year and half
Thinking that that was a matter of fact
Thinking that he was about to come over
Ive been standing up waiting for you
You never showed
Bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
Red white and blue
Bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
Red white and blue
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottle Up & Explode (early Version)
bottle up and explode over and over
cos you react slower than slow
put it away,check out for the day
in for a round of over exposure
the things mother nature provides
to get up and go
bottle up and explode
seeing stars surrounding you
red white and blue
she looks at him like hes never known her
its only been a year and half
thinking that that was a matter of fact
thinking that he was about to come over
i've been standing up waiting for you
you never showed
bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
red white and blue
bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
red white and blue
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottle Up And Explode!
Bottle up and explode over and over
Cos you react slower than slow
Put it away,check out for the day
In for a round of over exposure
The things mother nature provides
To get up and go
Bottle up and explode
Seeing stars surrounding you
Red white and blue
She looks at him like hes never known her
Its only been a year and half
Thinking that that was a matter of fact
Thinking that he was about to come over
I've been standing up waiting for you
You never showed
Bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
Red white and blue
Bottle up and explode all the outside signs of you
Red white and blue
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Headful Of Thoughts
I'm lying here, wide awake
Trying hard to get some sleep;
But my brain is totally buzzing,
So it's useless counting sheep!
My mind is manically racing,
Thinking of words and ideas;
I think of the sad poem that I just wrote,
And my eyes suddenly fill up with tears.
I need to get some sleep,
As I'm actually pretty tired;
But my brain is so alive:
Like, it's been electrically wired!
Many times, I've had new thoughts,
And jumped out of my cosy bed,
To quickly grab a pen and paper,
And jot them down before they leave my head.
Is this a common problem,
Which all writers share?
Do they, too, wake up the next day
Feeling a little worse for wear?
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Photography Extraordinary
The Milk-and-Water School
Alas! she would not hear my prayer!
Yet it were rash to tear my hair;
Disfigured, I should be less fair.
She was unwise, I may say blind;
Once she was lovingly inclined;
Some circumstance has changed her mind.
The Strong-Minded or Matter-of-Fact School
Well! so my offer was no go!
She might do worse, I told her so;
She was a fool to answer "No".
However, things are as they stood;
Nor would I have her if I could,
For there are plenty more as good.
The Spasmodic or German School
Firebrands and Daggers! hope hath fled!
To atoms dash the doubly dead!
My brain is fire--my heart is lead!
Her soul is flint, and what am I?
Scorch'd by her fierce, relentless eye,
Nothingness is my destiny!
poem by Lewis Carroll
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In same boat
We are all same in boat
Only we move finely dressed in coat
Everything covered and camouflaged
Well conceived and ably managed
Why do we offer lies lady when she is open with offer?
Why to present untruth when she has nothing to differ?
In fact complete human race is prone to offer lies
A person on death bed repeats same when dies
If love some one we may have some inhibitions
There may be some rivalries and competitions
Some bunch of lies is alright to achieve something
But out right to say outrageous to ladies is meant for nothing
We are selfish animal and have nothing more to establish
You may have reasons to tell lies to accomplish
But that end with the attainment of success
Everything counts secondary with full access
Let us admit we are otherwise failures
Our life becomes shaky and unsure
What gimmick we enter into is unwarranted
No one may like it and in fact wanted
So we are all in game and known for changing colors
We do sometimes to gain proximity or favors
That can be waived for simple reasons
As it is adopted by nature in the form of seasons
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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