Hmph 2
So idyllic
My innnocence
Now dissonance
reveals its pain
poem by Michael Oliver
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Travel Guide to 2009
Let's get away from it all..
that is, to take 'it all' with you
and dump it on an idyllic beach
whose native population rake smooth
every morning
but who will remove your burden of thought
from that idyllic community
when you've come back?
OK go ahead, now hate me..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Forgotten Pain
Darling!
I have long forgotten the pain
And your melodic antics
Which nearly drove me insane
I have long forgotten the pain
That moment I was passing weak
With nothing to lose or gain
You were on a mission
With your idyllic vision
You broke my heart; it was your decision
But alas! Time itself is an illusion
I have found myself
Like a reader finds a lost book
In the middle of a bookshelf
My strength cannot be broken
I have now dutifully awoken
Move on
Move on
My Darling!
I have long forgotten the pain
All the stress and all the strain
Is now flushed down the drain
Life is too short!
For tempers to flare hot
My Darling! It is just too short!
To store pain in ones pot!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Anonymous 1441
Darkness encloses upon me. And I,
The master of all things right and wrong,
Encompass the woe surging from within.
The journey must end. Yet, the journey is infallible.
The throbbing of the gushing wound against the harshness,
The idyllic moment of pain arrives:
Total release.
poem by Sayaa Uchii
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Veiled Scenes Behind The Sun
Perceived glimpses cast emotions
Perceptions give glimpses
Wrapped in a draped veil
Cupped hands you hold out with discretion
An offering of vagueness
When a turning sun reveals
Truth maybe scant but
Concealing the obvious is obvious
When a turning sun reveals
Eyes meeting eyes are not insincere
When the turning sun reveals
A pall fades behind the dark side
Truth in abstention drapes around me
It revolves then evolves
Bending the beating heart
When a turning sun reveals
When the turning sun turns
There is dimness, there is luminosity
Aspirations and bleakness
For all this disappears behind the sun gloaming
poem by Eric Von Rohr
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Pain...What is it?
Pain...What is pain?
Pain...get wrapped in the head with a baseball bat,
That could be called pain.
Pain...get kicked in the gut by a cowboy boot,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...poke a needle in your eye,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...get your fingers caught in a motorcycle chain,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...jump in front of a train,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...lose control while flyin' a plane,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...There ain't ever no gain in pain.
poem by Axe Timson
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Dissonance Of Images
The dissonance of Images
Where is Haiti again? Or for that matter Chile? Both nations were on
the news only a few days ago. Earthquakes and tsunamis, was it not?
Folks’ been knocking on my door wanting money to help people of
Madeira, which is nearer home so we know it is a tourist island. Ebb
and flow of tragedies, soon forgotten. Now we have vivid flicks from
an exploding volcano on Iceland, a small village has been evacuated in
case snow turns into water and drown them all. Iceland has ponies,
that produce manure, which is good for the roses. There are no trees
on the isle, and few dogs, thus it’s possible to walk in its capital without
stepping on dog turd. Not that this fable will want me to go live there.
So much news, the radio, TV, and now, on your mobile phone as well.
The dissonance of images lose all meaning, we hear and see no evil;
until black smoke rises from behind the mountain and a voice screams:
“Do you want total war? ” Heaven help us if the echo’s answer is: ”Yes! ”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I have never quite grasped the worry about the power of the press. After all, it speaks with a thousand voices, in constant dissonance.
quote by Eric Sevareid
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pain I Can Control
The pain I can control
The pain that makes me whole
The pain that stops and brings some tears
The pain that erases all my fears
The pain that I inflict with this knife
The pain that might be last in my life
The pain that brought me to my knees
The pain that woahed me full of pleas
The pain that made me see the light
The pain that is bringing me home tonight
The pain that is wrong and bitter
The pain that makes me feel fitter
The pain that my friends say is wrong
The pain that makes me feel so strong
The pain that makes my friend sad, and cry
The pain that makes her want to die
The pain thats not just pain to me
The pain that makes everyone see
The pain that thats tearing me apart
The pain thats ripping apart my heart
The pain that I'm addicted to
The pain I can't give up. Not even for you..
The Dark Truth
Truth is I don't believe.
Truth is All truth is volatile
As far as heaven is concerned
pain on earth may be to heavy to on to st peters golden rope.
Truth is blood is not thicker than water.
Blood quenches human greed
Water washes it out your throat
Truth is dissonance is cognitive, why do you search?
Truth is you are not who you think you are.
Truth is you may just be a thought of the darkness that harness your light.
Truth is (justicia) wears a transparent blindfold
Truth is her blade pierces only the soft hearted
But how do I know this truth, the only truth and nothing but the dark truth?
I once believed.
poem by Bernardo Adantor
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Courage and Nerve
There is much more depth,
Than what those have selected to project.
Much more than you suspect,
That reveals an introspectiveness.
There is much beneath the surface.
And upon your research this you will observe.
Some of it serves an embitteredness.
And a lot of it takes courage and nerve.
There is much more depth,
Than what those have selected to project.
Much more than you suspect,
That reveals an introspectiveness.
There is nothing hidden.
Or begged to be forgiven.
There is nothing exposed stripped of reality.
If a pain is expressed it is felt and believed.
There is much beneath the surface.
And upon your research this you will observe.
Some of it serves an embitteredness.
And a lot of it takes courage and nerve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Naked, Not Nude
The nude reveals her naked skin,
looking healthy, free and fresh,
but the naked girl will win
more attention with her flesh,
gaining sympathy for sin.
It’s the private revelation
of the feelings she reveals
which excite imagination
that the nude’s bare skin conceals,
Cheshire cat without a grin.
2/13/06
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Afterwards
SHE opened her moist crimson lips to sing;
And from her throat that is so white and full
The notes leaped like a fountain. A smooth lull
Was o'er my heart: as when—a viol—string
Having been broken—the first musical ring
Once over, all the rest is but a dull
Crude dissonance, howe'er thou twist and pull
The sundered fragments. A most weary thing
It is within the perished heart to seek
Pain, and not find it, but a clinging pall
Like sleep upon the mind. The mere set plan
Of life then comes, and grief that is not weak
Because it has no tears. Life's all—in—all
Was certainly at end when this began.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Rural towns aren't always idyllic. It's easy to feel trapped and be aware of social hypocrisy.
quote by Bill Pullman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take The Pain Away! (january 22 2011)
i sit here away feeling the pain
the pain of losing you
the pain of being alone.
the pain of my heart breaking
the pain of longing for you.
the pain that my pasted has made for me
the pain the razor makes when it slides across my arm to make me get away from the pain inside.
the pain has taken over my life never giving me a min to be happy
please won't you take the pain away please!
poem by juggalette Tiffany ann
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After Fists and Pain Inflicted
Escalated abuse,
Is not love.
To be used and tormented...
Is an addiction to be loathed.
But those cloaked within this need,
Can not see the danger...
Feeding these mindless deeds.
And domesticated violence,
One accepts to receive agony...
Remains a sickness wished!
To attract a slow suicide,
One excuses and accepts...
To forgive and forget.
With Hopes for a shared happiness,
To reminisce.
After fists and pain inflicted...
Heals!
But the re-occurrence reveals,
Not a mending but a killing...
Of a relationship!
Dedicated to:
Robin!
'Why? Ask yourself,
Do you need this?
And if you are entertained by it!
Is your fame maintained...
Worth the pain you sustain? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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5. In Pain
In pain I wonder why it is
That I should feel this way
In pain I sleep so rarely now
My nights turn into day
In pain I try to think of things
To help me ease this pain
In pain I practice memory games
But there it’s gone again
In pain I cannot reach for things
Do tasks I want to do
In pain I do not bend a lot
And can’t put on my shoe
In pain I look at what I was
Before I had this trouble
In pain I stop reflecting back
It only makes pain double
In pain I see a different world
Than what I had before
In pain I have restrictions
But I’ve learned that less means more
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Tender Is My Touch
Tender is my touch,
I know.
Although my balled fists...
When unclenched,
Reveals a gentleness
Of my fingertips.
Each day I grow,
With patience that comes.
From my head to my heart...
Masquerading yet welcomed.
All obstacles faced...
Are not completely removed.
Of this I am aware.
But none of this,
Is deserving for either one of us...
For me to prove to you.
There is more inside me than conflict.
And as I grow,
I'm more willing to show it.
Since I too wish for more happiness.
But how can I desire for more peace to thrive...
If I expose only resistence.
Without expressing how I feel inside.
And you are not aware I hide.
When only my exterior...
Reveals that strong side,
Of a need to carry my pride outside.
Tender is my touch,
I know.
Although my balled fists...
When unclenched,
Reveals a gentleness
Of my fingertips.
Come closer...
Come.
And be a witness to it!
Hold me.
I too have fears.
But I'm wishing them not to exist like this.
Come closer...
Come.
And be a witness to it!
Sit and let's develop trust.
We can if this is what we wish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mwah
a poem dedicated to Pocholo Malilin, founder of Mwah Philippines
open up
the curtain
and the night
becomes the moment to a
passionate reverence
of a timeless idyllic posture;
the remembrance of
you and me, in an endless
beginning of
memory in
our hearts
poem by Antonio Liao
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But you can't show some far off idyllic conception of behavior if you want the kids to come and see the picture. You've got to show what it's really like, and try to reach them on their own grounds.
quote by James Dean
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Epithalamium
A bee in the field. The house on the mountain
reveals itself to have been there through summer.
It's not a bee but a horse eating frosted grass
in the yawn light. Secrets, the anguish of smoke
above the chimney as it shreds what it's learned
of fire. The horse has moved, it's not a horse
but a woman doing the stations of the cross
with a dead baby in her arms. The anguish of the house
as it reveals smoke to the mountain. A woman
eating cold grass in Your name, shredding herself
like fire. The woman has stopped, it's not a woman
but smoke on its knees keeping secrets in what it reveals.
The everything has moved, it's not everything
but a shredding of the anguish of names. The marriage
of light: particle to wave. Do you take? I do.