Still Unknown
I still have no identity
Confused
Who I really want to be
If there were a place called
Lonliness arena
I would be playing there
Staying there
Perhaps in a pup tent
When I was eleven bravo
In the army infantry
Even a baker
A belly shaker
A candlestick maker
Not
Still uncertain of the future
If there is one
So you want to know
What I want to be
Even a poet
With no calamity
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Related quotes
History Maker
History maker World shaker it’s what I wanna be
Going places seeing faces making history
Stepping out not afraid coming up against the enemy
History maker world shaker that’s what I wanna be
Get up and go-there is trouble everywhere
Finding solutions to our problems is so very rare
No more talking cause all the talking’s done
History maker world shaker I already have begun
Stand up for right I am in a fight
Trying with all my might to free them from their plight
History maker world shaker that’s what I want to be
Helping people change, changing history
But I can’t do it alone I need someone
To help me do the job and get it done
Become a history maker starting here today
Be a world shaker follow me I will show the way
Copy Right HN Brown 31 January 2009
poem by Henry Brown
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New Garden
It has the harmony and similarities blooming in spirit
It is stronger than ever, not seen by the strangers
Dreams of long-awated patience initiated by peace and
truths
post-postmodernised by
informal education of survivor of the oppressed
ration of knowledge and wisdom is clearly built up through time
winner doesn't take all but there are no losers
only mediators of truth-scenario
Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
New Garden is born with the wing of change! Born with the wind of change!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
no one is trying to fly away
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bravo! Bravo!
Life-apart-world apart-road ApART
Who know?
The history of unexpected dawn.
RULE: BUT YOU MUST KEEP ON WATCHING MORALS AND
HUMANITY-INITIATED DIRECTIONS in the world of mis-directed illusions
Overwhelming the realities in the continuam of change
Grafted Into the Army
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Coupons
How many times do
we get coupons offering you
to buy one and get one free
come through our door.
Everyone is doing it,
the butcher, the baker
and the candlestick maker.
The motive behind it
is to entice you in.
Once they have you in,
they hope that you will buy more.
15 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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I Have Reserved Time to Write This; Why?
I sat in the nature reserve
Watching the animals playing football
I was just a reserve
Not in the first eleven
I had a seat in the theatre reserved
I watched the play unfold
I not an actor I’m too reserved
I’m in the audience where I belong
I was called up by the army
Served before; but they wanted me to re-serve
I was playing tennis; the ball went wide
They made me re-serve
Reserve your energy
Reserve your nerve
Keep your humour in reserve
Keep your reserve in reserve
I reserve the right to say you asked me to write this
And I have kept the best in reserve
You will have to reserve an appointment
With a proper poet after you’ve read this
An anagram of reserve
Is reverse
I wish I could reverse time
Then I wouldn’t have wrote this
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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It Is 'Them' I Am Trying To Protect
I am not a ssshh...taker.
Cake baker.
Or a candlestick maker.
Nor am I one to ooze charm...
When my patience is tested,
By anyone thinking...
I'm an easy piece of meat to tease!
And there are folks in the world,
Who ask to be cussed out!
And...
I will oblige their requests.
I remember my Mom saying to me once,
'I don't care how strange you look.
I want my house cleaned when I come home.'
My parents were direct!
I wish 911 was around,
When my father use to just look at me...
With those eyes he had!
He would freeze me in this stare he had.
And I could not move!
I almost enjoyed my mother's whippings...
Just to escape from my father's silent stare.
He never laid a hand on my sisters and I.
He didn't have to.
My mother on the other hand...
Unleashed her punishment,
Like a category 5 tornado!
She was strict, loving...
And a crier when she whipped us!
~Why is she crying...again?
I'm the one in pain! ~
**Ma, tell Larry to leave me alone!
He gettin' on my nerves.**
~YOU...are going to spray some roaches!
And that's a promise! ~
God helped me fulfill that dream already.
Let's just say my childhood was just as dysfunctional,
As it was adventurous.
I was smoking and drinking with my parents,
When I was ten years old.
~Ma, did Daddy buy us any Budweiser? ~
'No! But there is some Manichevitz in the icebox.
And this time leave some for your sister! '
~...hmph! ~
We were 'special' children!
At least Reverand Branch thought so!
He had been the minister at Union Baptist Church.
That place is a different story.
I am not a ssshh...taker.
Cake baker.
Or a candlestick maker.
Nor am I one to ooze charm...
When my patience is tested,
By anyone thinking...
I'm an easy piece of meat to tease!
And there are folks in the world,
Who ask to be cussed out!
And...
I will oblige their requests.
Since they have no idea...
It is 'them' I am trying to protect.
And I do the best I can to chill,
Before any explosion occurs!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Air is a Root
The air is a root.
The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo.
bravo. the stones are filled with air.
the stones are watery branches.
on the stones replacing the mouth
grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo.
A stone voice face to face and foot to foot
with a stone glance.
the stones are tormented like flesh
the stones are clouds for their second
nature dances to them on their third nose.
bravo. bravo.
when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow
on the roots. bravo. bravo.
the stones woke to eat the exact
hour
I Am Not A 'Socialite
Some have come into this arena,
With eyes bright.
And seeking to delight in relationships.
The invitation I responded to,
Was to enter into the arena as a poet who writes.
And others in the arena believe I should socialize.
But this I make clearly understood.
I am not a 'socialite' like many who are 'socialists'.
I am without pretense a 'writer'.
Not a socialist pretending not to be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Rest Is Peace For Me
My rest deserves peace, justice rolls
In the shadows for the heat of heaven.
Sun’s work is a doing, moons belong,
But where does the camel roll over?
My place in the arena of thought
Is fought over by the generals of a tent
That houses the rich, the tent we hand over.
Palaces will be built for those who worship
In the competent ways known to God,
A man visits the world in possessed spirits.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Now I've been three days
Now I've been three days
In the place where I am staying,
I've taken up new ways—
Land-owning and flute playing.
There's an orchard ground
Seen, that set me sighing.
Should I give ten pounds,
It is mine for the buying.
With the door set wide,
I could sit there playing,
Send the magic notes
Through the gully straying.
Since the roof is sound
And the trees are growing,
I will give ten pounds,
All my gold bestowing.
Now I've been three days
In the place where I am staying,
I've taken up new ways—
Land-owning and flute playing.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Baker Man
Well here comes a dance that will never be banned now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Yeah, stolen from a story called "The Baker's Man" now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
It's impossible too sweet to cross the land????
(Patty cake patty cake)
Put your favorite records on and start the show now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Abra-cadabra look at everyone go now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
Alakazam this dance has got to grow now
(Patty cake patty cake)
Well they tell me that it's optional to use your feet
But now you really don't need them if you keep your beat
Well Arthur Murray's gettin' blurry tryin' to learn that jive
When all the kids from coast to coast are really comin' alive
Well go tell the gang what a time you've had now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
This Friday night we'll start a regular fad now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
We'll do the Baker 'til it drives us mad now
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Come on and take a lesson now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Clap your partner's hands
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Not too hard
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Now slap her in the face
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
What a disgrace
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Hidden Sweetness Is There
217
What hidden sweetness there is in this emptiness of the belly!
Man is surely like a lute, no more and no less;
For if, for instance, the belly of the lute becomes full, no
lament high or low will arise from that full lute.
If your brain and belly are on fire through fasting, because of
the fire every moment a lament will arise from your breast.
Every moment you will burn a thousand veils by that fire; you
will mount a hundred steps with zeal and endeavor.
Become empty of belly, and weep entreatingly like the reed
pipe; become empty of belly, and tell secrets with the reed pen.
If your belly is full at the time of concourse, it will bring Satan
in place of your reason, an idol in place of the Kaaba.
When you keep the fast, good habits gather together before
you like slaves and servants and retinue.
Keep the fast, for that is Solomon’s ring; give not the ring to
the div, destroy not your kingdom.
Even if your kingdom has gone from your head and your army
has fled, your army will rise up, pennants flying above them.
The table arrived from heaven to the tents of the fast, by the
intervention of the prayers of Jesus, son of Mary.
In the fast, be expectant of the table of bounty, for the table of
bounty is better than the broth of cabbages.
Life Is Uncertain- And Because Of This
LIFE IS UNCERTAIN
Life is uncertain-
And because of this we live in anxiety and fear-
The strong shape the future as best they can
But even they cannot overcome all Time and Circumstance-
Life is uncertain-
Writing a poem is not knowing where it will end
Or the way a line should be stressed
Or whether it’s writer is right to write this now.
Life is uncertain
In the smallest and in the greatest things-
Our life our death-
What will be with our loved ones-
If some of us pray to God so strongly
It is also because we need help with that uncertainty –
Lonely as we are
Afraid as we are
Uncertain as we are-
We pray to God
To help us make our way wisely
In this uncertain world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Possession
Possession, is, pen, pens, ion, ions, spoon, spoons;
Young, youthful, useful!
And like the muse of love in the land of peace.
Possession, pose, so, son, sin, sins, sons, soon, spies;
Gradually settin in and,
Gradually getting in!
And like the muse of love in the land of beautiful flowers.
Possession, on, no, nose, noses, poses, pin, in, pins;
Maker, breaker, baker, shaker, backer, tanker! !
All in the name of your muse to draw me closer to your love,
But, try to do the right things always in this life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Confused
I am confused with love and fear.
I am confused with the taste of my tear.
I am confused of where I'll go.
I am confused of what I'll know.
I am confused of whos my family.
I am confused of what makes me happy.
I am confused by what I do.
I am confused of what's true.
I am confused by your touch.
I am confused oh so much.
poem by Jean Pullman
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After A Dance At Malaga
In Malaga
at the base camp
you danced at some disco
and drank Bacardi
and coke and it was
well into the early hours
of the morning
when you left
with Mamie
tiptoeing between
tent ropes and the unlit
areas between
and she said
I can't find
where my tent is
and you said
I'd let you share mine
but that young army guy
is in mine
and three in a bed
is a bit cramped
but where is mine?
she said
searching around
touching tent ropes
as she went by
you stood watching
trying to decide
where your tent was
what are we to do?
she asked
let's go back
to the club
until it gets lighter
or we remember
where our tents are
you said
but I'm tired
she said
I want to go to bed
and sleep
you searched around
by the hedge of the field
and then said
wait
I know where
mine is now
and you led her
to the tent
and unzipped it
and there inside
was the army guy
fast asleep
you can come in here
if you like
you said
but she just stood there
in the semi dark
cussing into the night
come on in
and be quiet
you said
I want my tent
she said
I want my own bloody tent
ok go find it then
you said
and began to climb inside
wait
she said
in a hushed voice
and came over
to your tent
and looked in
what about him?
she asked
he's asleep
you replied
what will he say
and finds me here?
you gazed
at the sleeping soldier boy
his mouth open
his eyes closed
a soft snore
filling the air
either come in
or go elsewhere
you whispered
I can't
she said
not with him there
and so she turned
and wandered off
into the semi dark
another chance walking off
into the night
some things you hope for
you murmured
never come right.
poem by Terry Collett
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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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Identity Crisis!
When born, I was called “baby”
And later they called me “Abby”
Within 5 years they called me “student”
And for 7 years, like that I spent
Then they called me “teen”
I loved it and felt like a queen
Then I was called “woman”
And those times, were the best
Then some one tied a knot and called me “wife”
I hated those times, it was horrible and gross
In years I became “mother”
It was beautiful but tough
Then being called “grandma”
My times got better and better
Then at last I was called “old”
And my body was frail and cold
All this time I wondered,
Where my identity has gone
Some where in the middle, I had lost it
Through the ages, I had a crisis
An identity crisis to say!
DECEMBER 23,2008
poem by Sania Harris
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I'm convinced that the infantry is the group in the army which gives more and gets less than anybody else.
quote by Bill Mauldin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miles High And Bone Dry
Smoke the dope
stay high
but without
wings to fly
A spoonful
just enough to
dull your brain
make you forget
your stress and strain
losing your identity
in yourself
and when finding it gone
you'll have no sense
of yourself or
Identity of your own.
poem by Dorsey Baker
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