A Dialogue to Immanuel Kants
We prefer,
Beauty to the duty,
Cruelty to mercy,
Luxury to morality,
We are brought up
On the swings of ambitions,
And have remained astray
In the forest of lust.
We have trampled,
Gems of inner-self with the steeds
Of our own passions.
Our appetite has devoured us all,
And high castles of thoughts,
Buried beneath the debris
Of worthless infertile words.
O! Strange philosopher,
Out of reach lie our own skills,
Concealed from ourselves,
Yes the same all skills which make
Us gods but remain possessed
By the brute of our own inner-self.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The skills that we have are the actual magic skills - not the performing skills. We have to separate those. But the actual skills that make the tricks work, we don't get to use again.
quote by Penn Jillette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Question About Poetry
You asked if my poetic skills
would be what an emetic fills
namely a basin of foul smelling
regurgitate, there is no telling
what someone sees in poetry
for me it's what the gods decree
somewhere the talent lies and sleeps
until the time comes where he keeps
it under wraps no longer, hidden
and out it comes, at times unbidden.
Poetic skills are not for all
some do prefer the shopping Mall
but those who can appreciate
and joyfully do contemplate
a poem as it lives and loves
the subject can be hawks or doves
those are the ones with open hearts
and they take in this art of arts.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Morality Make Beauty
Would the things you do
Make you beautiful
Probably
Surely we have two sides in everything
The two sides of beauty
You and you
Inside and outside
Ever and never
Inexhaustible and exhaustible
Let just start right here
Cosmetics made me looked beautiful
But I wander
How long would this last
When it is never hidden from the
Solemn standing sun
The sun shall shine
And tomorrow the sun shall dry this beauty away
Some call it old age
Why won't this beauty last?
Some also say old age annihilates beauty
Hey!
How long would you remain a secret to the majority?
You contemptuously say to cosmetic
Beauty maker
Is that what they call you?
Oh mercy you despicable
Morality makes you beautiful you
Morality makes you beautiful inside
Morality makes you beautiful for ever
Morality makes you your world beautiful
Your inside matters
The sun don't dry it up c
It hidden from the solemn standing sun
Morality overcomes the sun's annihilation
Let morality make you up
Behold drifting away shall your beauty not be
Forever shall it bloom as the sun shines
poem by Moses Amen Nyinaku
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Sweet Little Girls
Sweet little girls
Cut a swathe through this world
Using skills that they get
From their mothers
Sweet little girls
Might like ribbons and curls
But they most like to torture their brothers
And sweet little girls
Love their friends
'Till it hurts
Or until
They can find them another
Watch their lips, they make a circle like
"Coo coo coo coo"
But the words their saying softly are
Cruel cruel cruel
Sweet little girls
Cut a swathe through this world
Using skills that they get
From their mothers
Watch their lips, they make a circle like
"Coo coo coo coo"
But the words their saying softly are
Cruel cruel cruel
Yeah sweet little girls
Cut a swathe through this world
Using skills that they get
From their mothers
Using skills that they get from their mothers
Using skills that they get from their
Aah aah etc...
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lovely Lisa
The lovely Lisa has a smile
That brightens up my day.
Besides her beauty and her style,
Our Lisa loves to play.
To her, life seems to be a game
For every girl and boy.
Although we know life's not the same,
God's gifts we still enjoy.
The heart is where emotions rule...
The head is slow to change...
We can stay wise or play the fool
And some may think that strange...
But lovely Lisa loves to grin!
She's likes to take a chance!
When she decided to join in,
She learnt to sing and dance!
In youth, we learn new skills in time.
It's how we all progress.
Imagine skills that reach their prime
And grant you happiness!
The lovely Lisa now stands tall...
She's where she's meant to be...
To share her smile with one and all
Each day on bid tv!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Life Time Teaches
it was difficult
if you had the skills
it would be easier
it would be easy
or it would be easier
with acquired skills
it was difficult
now you have requisite skills
learning can be difficult
who will teach?
life time teaches
our soul grows
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Words
Unutterable words have been spoken by the man in front of me,
Fools sway, in institutions and in parks, with drink and joy.
Words are hastened in speech, in writing by the professions,
As professors teach new skills only to move onwards in life.
To keep skills requires luck and charm for words are great
When attached with meaning, the same education to succeed.
Words carry a blessing on a path we fix in our heads and minds,
Books are written, volumes are printed, for the health of the nation.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The chief is not the best
It is not that the best in the skills
Becomes a captain of a team.
It requires some other skills for that.
The chief is not the best of all.
20.03.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Seek the less knowing
Show your skills to those having not it.
Then only you will get applause.
Then only could you be proud of your skills
08.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It is one of the chief skills of the philosopher not to occupy himself with questions which do not concern him.
quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A winner is someone who recognizes his God-given talents, works his tail off to develop them into skills, and uses these skills to accomplish his goals.
quote by Larry Bird
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fantasy IV
Pounce of nipple
Snatches,
Catches me off guard
Flounce and ripple
Thro' the breasts
Arrests
Landing hard,
I'm flung upon my back
To analyse the ceiling -
No appealing under stress
Now under dress -
Panties gone
And she upon
My countenance -
I rouse to bait
Her feminine way
Lead astray by
Aromatic warming
Of her womanhood,
I tune her body's
Resonance
Thro' eloquence of tongue -
Her shrieking
Highly strung
We up the play
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Oooh Grandma, what a big ovophil you are...
My granma, whose skills are legend,
taught me beside these skills
that only granmas know
her secret name she uses when she writes her poems.
It's 'ananym'.
You'll need Webster for that.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Survival
Survival is cruel, as much as heat and wind,
The menace of what is out there is so strange;
My forest is a garden for the animals
But a hell for my soul, a little is too hard.
My forest ranks supreme for tests of agility,
It lacks promise of life, as stupendous as it might be
To retain life of one’s own body,
As good it might seem to return to the house I lived in.
May cruelty be a sudden chance to rest and escape,
But cruelty is different, it hated me and hated you;
The forest is crueler than objects of the sky,
This day’s sky reminds me of hatred and odium.
Will I make it through this weather?
Will my strange air around be too hazardous?
It is too cruel to begin accusations,
Nature is relentless, far away.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Skilful Doctor
Function if you are enough skill,
Or work on nobody in front of you.
The words dawdle the air as you speak,
We have understood them now for you speak.
This palaver describes my speech as solid,
Liquids do run thick, liquify your body.
Overpowering speech is a collection of words
Promulgating action and acts of speech as well.
This policy has remained since the weather
Changed last week, lasting peace has remained.
We are authority, we have skills no person retains,
Both us and you are learned in doctoring.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Supremeness
Do not like me as a fine man,
Just wake me up, find my logic.
The sunlight beams on my head
In the day and in the night from lamps.
My flight is of circling and plunging
And my walking skills are numerous.
I am a superhuman of logical thinking,
The supreme philosopher so great.
Let me wake up in the morning
With the use of these thoughts to stay awake.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Completing All The Touches
Her pupil shone –
Black stole a peek
Her smile wore sleek
Beneath a knowingness
That I would seek
A slipping down of garments,
Jealous of their role
To hide the jewels that complement,
Completing all the touches.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Lines of Lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sonnet: Poetic Limits
Can words depict the true beauty of things?
Can words describe the truth of every scene?
Can words expound the hearts of all earthlings?
Can words decode the joy of things unseen?
Can words bring out the beauty of music?
Can words suffice to explain mysteries?
Can words repaint the beauty of a ‘pic’?
Can words spell out the taste of foods/berries?
And yet, the poet slogs with words and sounds;
With mastery and skills, unique, unknown;
And takes the reader’s hearts to divine grounds,
Or earthly terrains akin to their own.
Kudos to Bards! Who pen and sing supreme,
To create things felt/seen or in a dream.
9-21-2002
poem by John Celes
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(Forgiveness Poem/Story) A Miraculous Healing
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
It's as if the wounds were never even there.
How is that even possible?
I saw the stabbing.
He should have died.
But yet he's alive.
Somehow he did survive.
Some say it is a pact of lies.
But I know the truth.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
A story of the fortunate.
The luck of the Irish.
It was a just miss.
A little to the right.
A little to the left.
And he wouldn't exist.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
A bloody blade.
With thoughts of a accomplishment drinking down some expensive chardonnay.
If he only knew.
The secrets of the autumn dew.
The water drips of the truth.
But it will never be heard by those who aren't looking with their heart.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Some souls can never be stolen.
No matter how much one tries.
Corruption within the eyes.
Some souls can never be awoken.
A noose yet waits to be tied.
With in a smoke of mirror images it hides.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Such an awesome feeling.
To know he yet lives.
How can he ever forgive such actions?
Hate does bring some satisfaction.
If only for a moment of self gratification.
Destination unknown, but now you are alone.
Facing the truth of what your attempt really did.
Guilt bares no mercy on those who know it by its first name.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A war
A war of words, a war of words
Only in their simplicity we can afford
These spoken words when out of control
Bury nations in graves deeper than any hole
A war of friends, a war of friends
Is okay at the end if met with amicable amends
A war of skills, a war of skills
Will do us good if fun is the main course meal
And not the coveted need to feel to kill
A war of love, a war of love
But even love has its own boundaries
Think of overloading clothes at the laundries
Hate is the only thing love will not shove
A war of nations, a war of nations
Is irreversible condemnation
The effect on this earth’s population
Could be the birth of human destruction
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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