Great person
Great person
Is someone who in life
Speaks what thought
And does what liked
And everybody follows voluntary
And when death comes
Everybody still follows
And speaks what the thought
and does what the like
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.
The God speaks
Macbeth speaks; Hamlet speaks.
We say Shakespeare speaks.
Krishna speaks to Arjuna.
We don’t say Vyasar speaks.
21.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Thus speaks the star
Thus speaks the star
Leave them asleep
Thus speaks the star
Buried the past
Thus speaks the star
Go for fresh start
Thus speaks the star
Life is our and our
Thus speaks the star
Be optimistic and go far.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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To Know The Word of the Spirit Original 01 16 2011
TO KNOW THE WORD
OF THE SPIRIT:
Original 01 16 2011
To know the word as motive
Know that God speaks the nous
Between his will and knowledge
Prerogatives of vision and reason
To know the word as verbal
Know that God speaks transcendent
Nous -to know the word as noun
Know God speaks the tone of you
To know the word as poem read
To know the word as pronoun
Know that god does not speak
Of you god speaks to you
To know the word as adverb
Know that God does not speak
About you God speaks through you
To know the word as adjective
Know that God speaks by you
To know the word as preposition
Know God speaks from the heart
To know the word as poem write
To know the word is off the table
Know that God knows who sops
And all that was [was] forgiven
To know word as free verse
To know the word as parable
Know that God speaks nous
To know that God has spoken
Know pain and pleasure in spirit.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permissions.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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My Cousin broke my heart
i thought i looked up 2 you
i thought i called you my cuz
that i'll never forget
how wrong was i
i thought you were great
i thought you were my older cuz
sumone and the only person
i could look up 2
then you go a pull ur shit
i cant get over how wrong i was
you not a person i can look up 2
cuz a person i could look up 2
would talk to me when i call
and no make up excuses 2 not talk 2 me
so all i have 2 say is
icant believe i ever looked up 2 you
poem by Heather Noble
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You Inspire
You make me feel things
I thought died a long time ago
Yet I've never seen you
At first
I thought it silly
You inspire me
Make me think of things
I thought could never be
Your writing speaks to me
The man you have become
Touched me to the core
I love you for who you are
poem by Persian Khushi
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Sweet Silence Speaks
At the brink of the midnight
When every mortal sleeps
When voices turn their faces
Then the sweet silence speaks
With the onset of the moonlight
Slowly deserting the streets
When the noises are duped
Then the sweet silence speaks
When the zephyrs are high
At the snow covered peaks
And the voices get numb
Then the sweet silence speaks
I desperately wait to meet her
Through days and all through the weeks
I really die to hear her voice
And then the sweet silence speaks
Through an edge of a dream
When my sweety slowly peaks
All of a sudden I wake up
When the sweet silence speaks
poem by Sumeet Mukherjee
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Sentimental
What have you wrought with a single thought?
Not through a want, a need or even a desire
But to share of yourself from the burning fire.
Entrails that sweep across the sky
My God, you sanction that we cry.
To shed tears at the birth of one who looks like me
Softness of frame and loveliness of face to see.
To cry inside when my child ventures out on a date
My beloved baby, please for this time of your life; just wait.
Graduation with pomp and circumstance and the roll of the drums
My beautiful daughters and my handsome sons.
At their wedding my macho being inside to cry
For childrern I offer an eternal, joyous sigh.
Light of my life, light of my being and light of the way
Be prouductive, happy, contribute and please, 'have a good day',
03-06-60 Aho Speaks.
poem by AHO Speaks
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Story Lady (poem)
There’s a very special lady, a person that I know
Who tells a funny story wherever she may go
She speaks to you so softly with a smile upon her lips
As she relates to you a tale, not a word of it she skips
She speaks to you of ministers of maidens and of men
Who made a few mistakes with their words now and then
Her stories are told with wit and with such charm
You know as a listener they really mean no harm
‘Tis a very special lady this person that I know
Who tells a funny story wherever she may go
poem by Dave Tanguay
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It was a less mourned death
A person of strong
Likes and dislikes
Expressed his feelings
Irrespective of their
Being palatable or not
Earned mostly bad names
Because of his ventilation
Of what he feels
Most of us camouflage
Our real feelings and
Come out with only sweet and
Untrue expressions
He was a person who demonstrated
True love and in that
His advices were bitter a times
But always held a load of
Pure love and affection
Even those people,
Who have nothing but
Complaints against him
Enjoyed his voluntary services
And which he rendered without
Any expectation but only
To demonstrate his love for them
How many of us are going
To remember him for his
Great qualities
The same outbursts of
His unmasked opinion
Did not take him far
And did not allow him
To have a life most of us
Normally enjoy
Till last minute he lived
His life his own way
May be true, he did not
Do sacrifices to maintain
Relations because he might have
Thought his love is sufficient
Enough to do that and he did not
Believe in convincing people
That he is right
And the day he breathed his last
His soul departed alone and unsung
I am sure his soul will always be around
Those, whom he dearly loved
But my heart knows
It was a less mourned death
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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From That Zone As Shown
With consistency when someone known,
Speaks 24/7 negatively.
From that zone as shown.
That person needs mental therapy.
And if suggested but does not heed.
That person known should be left alone.
Those who take advantage of one's hospitality,
To disrespect a giving done.
For an opportunity,
To reduce a pleasant environment offered.
For a chance to pollute the air others breathe.
That person should be asked to leave.
And fast!
With consistency when someone known,
Speaks 24/7 negatively.
From that zone as shown.
That person needs mental therapy.
And if suggested but does not heed.
That person known should be left alone.
With an asking to leave your environment in peace.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Speaks A True Friend
Now, there
There speaks a true friend
There speaks a friend for life
You told me all the things
That you think are wrong with me
I just wish youd stayed around and helped me put them right
But nevertheless :
There ... mm
There speaks a true friend
There speaks a friend for life
You listed all the things
That people cannot stand about me
I just wish youd stayed around and helped me to improve
Because Ive tried, Ive tried
Oh, Ive really really tried
You say I dont know how to live
(and thats true)
You say I dont deserve to live
Oh, where would I be without my friends to help me ?
I just cant imagine where Id be, can you ?
No
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep On Trucking
His faith is true
And his talent ten fold
In every poem
He speaks the truth
His honesty grand
His devotion so sweet
I think his wife
Is very lucky indeed
He speaks his mind
To what he has seen
On life's rocky roads
Aint that supreme
The man makes
You laugh
Till your sides split
What a great way to go
With a smile on your face
So one word to thee
A poet of the world
Keep on trucking
With your poets and songs
poem by Kaila George
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Your thought advocates fame and show. Mine counsels me and implores me to cast aside notoriety and treat it like a grain of sand cast upon the shore of eternity. Your thought instills in your heart arrogance and superiority. Mine plants within me love for peace and the desire for independence. Your thought begets dreams of palaces with furniture of sandalwood studded with jewels, and beds made of twisted silk threads. My thought speaks softly in my ears, "Be clean in body and spirit even if you have nowhere to lay your head." Your thought makes you aspire to titles and offices. Mine exhorts me to humble service.
quote by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When Bryan Speaks
When Bryan speaks, the town's a hive.
From miles around, the autos drive.
The sparrow chirps. The rooster crows.
The place is kicking and alive.
When Bryan speaks, the bunting glows.
The raw procession onward flows.
The small dogs bark. The children laugh
A wind of springtime fancy blows.
When Bryan speaks, the wigwam shakes.
The corporation magnate quakes.
The pre-convention plot is smashed.
The valiant pleb full-armed awakes.
When Bryan speaks, the sky is ours,
The wheat, the forests, and the flowers.
And who is here to say us nay?
Fled are the ancient tyrant powers.
When Bryan speaks, then I rejoice.
His is the strange composite voice
Of many million singing souls
Who make world-brotherhood their choice.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin -- more even than death.... Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habit. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because Of Money
Because of money people wish on others harm or ill
And because of money people others do injure or kill
And because of money great friendships have come to an end
And money can make you an enemy or make you a friend
To those with the power of money respect we do pay
And money speaks every language some are known to say
And those with the most money great power do command
That is something that is not hard to understand
Those with heaps of money enjoy the good life
The millionaire in his seventies has a twenty two year old wife
With brown hair to her shoulders and lovely to behold
She would not be with him if he were poor and old
But because of his money with him she will stay
Money speaks every language that's life as some say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The One With Heaps Of money
The one with heaps of money his or her friends in numbers grow
And the pauper is the person only the kind of heart wishes to know
And money speaks more of one than words can ever do
And if you are short of money I can only pity you,
That money speaks every language is something you ought not doubt
And those who battle to survive know what the hard life's about,
It is a necessity of life despite what some do say
That's why people to earn money go to work every day
In the poor suburb of the city where poverty is rife
The poorest and the homeless live a miserable life
If they had heaps of money how different life for them would be
That money is most important no need for to tell me,
Why paupers do have few friends no need to wonder why
And those with heaps of money their friends in numbers multiply.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The ironist is not bitter, he does not seek to undercut everything that seems worthy or serious, he scorns the cheap scoring-off of the wisecracker. He stands, so to speak, somewhat at one side, observes and speaks with a moderation which is occasionally embellished with a flash of controlled exaggeration. He speaks from a certain depth, and thus he is not of the same nature as the wit, who so often speaks from the tongue and no deeper. The wit's desire is to be funny; the ironist is only funny as a secondary achievement.
quote by Robertson Davies
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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x21-Escape
-Jane Spencers
Why still cry? I chose to die,
I should have smiles tonight.
This place is none for bitter lies,
I thought i chose what's right.
I thought that death is an escape
from pain and all my fears.
I thought that death is all but peace,
but here, peace never cares.
I thought that pain would die with me,
that tears have no place here.
But pain endures...and tears endure;
eternal may they be?
I dreamed, i thought...i always thought
that death could set me free.
I wish I could just die again,
or lose my memory.
Are souls eternal? Is this my fate?
I hunger so for life.
Am I forever bound by death?
I thought it's my escape.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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