On The Threshold Of 2010
Days blend into weeks, and weeks into months,
Months make years, and years compose centuries.
I stand on the verge of 2009: the threshold of 2010,
With my kids overshadowed by apprehensions.
Here at the entrance of the valley of 2010,
I vividly see fog of smoke hovering over the hills,
Forces of the kings running in helter-skelter,
Using the most fatal weapons to snatch
The reserves of oil and the treasures of soil.
The same ancient law of forest is in vogue again
With full fervour, with fresh teeth, new-fangled hunger.
An amphitheatre of human bodies stretched
On the slopes and each rock is coloured red.
I smell the reeking stench of burning blood,
And shades being murdered of thousand of trees,
I fear passing through the valley of horrible events,
Where I shall have to go on leaving behind
At each step injured or murdered fellow beings.
Here I stand forlorn and I can not respond the question
Of my kids overshadowed by apprehensions,
“Criminals, defaulters are the elder but the recipient
Of unjust punishment will be the younger,
Or those who will step into the world in 2010.”
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Related quotes
How Time Feels Without You
Seconds are like days
Minutes are like weeks
Hours are like months
Days are like years
Weeks are like centuries
When I'm away from you
poem by Steve Yeager
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How it begins
Two opposites meet
Is a pity I am not accurate biologically
My aim is to inspire logically
Infancy is where it all begins
Childhood is mandatory
Formal education is compulsory
How it begins?
It‘s start with a dream
Manifestos into a vision
Requires a little bit of passion
Typically the primary years are similar
Avoid cold, do your homework sounds familiar
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
Explore life explore nature get fascinated by pears
Eventually graduate if you put effort to your aptitude
Old adage about your attitude determining your altitude
How it begins?
You move to next stage called adulthood
Big dreams you want to elevate out of the hood
Get a nice job, statistically classified with those who can afford
Discover you not complete on your own
Get a spouse. Go all romantic than comes the up and down
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
Explore life explore nature get fascinated by pears
Eventually have kids then; squeeze them into your budget
How it begins?
You discover there is more to offer the world
Conflict, disappointment becomes part of you
Days pass-by, weeks pass-by, months and years
You not fond of mirrors any more
All the lessons you learned become your reality
Change in colour of your hair
Nostalgic attacks!
You only worry about your off-springs future
How it begins?
Time to look back and say wow
Pity I cannot define life
You be lucky if you die with your wife
poem by Magodi Khutso Makaleng
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Un seen..Unspoken Pain...Melina 2005! !
Melina.....Unspoken Pain 2005.......
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- Melina..the blow and into the world of darkness! !
You walked along with me and soon became my great friend.
Then hurt walked in, left a shattered life, we have much to mend.
Youthful life, kids to guide, a great toll in your hands lay,
With every fall, you must rise, a Herculean Task, you got to play
Precious jewel, indeed a God's Blesings, an amazing wonder like you.
Alas I awake, to cross the line of our next phase, though i fear it so!
Its time to let go, the many decisions, you must now make.
No longer to soon, to lose you to the world outside, a step i take.
You gave me time, now i step behind, as you travel on your own.
My job will be, still undone, even with the years fast flown.....
Your youthful days tatterd and battered leaving you confused
With every step you take may your questions be greatly reduced
Perfected, sadly, unspoken pain, a quality, a style, with good grace.
May God be with you, as with dignity, you softly tread in life's race.
love Mum
Create Date: Tuesday, April 20,2010
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts
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He’ll Be With Me
What’s ahead, I may not know, but, God will direct the way to go,
While on God’s promises I stand, He will guide me with His Hand,
Opening doors and closing some, God will lead in days to come,
Through the valley and over the hills, I will follow as my Lord wills.
The will of God can’t be frustrated, and His plans are not belated,
Whether hills or valleys my friend, my God will see me to the end,
While in the valley, dark as night, the Lord becomes my only light,
And on that hill, He helps me climb, in God’s perfect will and time.
When the times are dark and bleak, it’s the Lord’s will I must seek,
As the Lord sends me His Grace, while even in that darkest place,
Comforted by simply who God is, and that as a believer, I am His,
As God’s presence is here to stay; throughout my life, day to day.
Times truly change, but God will not, as I live out life’s present lot,
That is the present life afforded to me, by The Lord of all Eternity,
Whose purpose will always prevail, as those around appear to fail,
As the very will which God decreed, in my life, friend, will succeed.
While in a world of shifting sands, I’m secure in my Savior’s hands,
As my every step is ordered by, my Lord God, who reigns on high,
As God’s Spirit reminds my heart, from my side, God won’t depart,
So wherever life’s’ path should go, God will be with me, this I know.
(Copyright ©11/2010)
BEING HID...by talile ali
I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE YOUR HUSBAND
I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE YOUR KIDS
I JUST WANT TO BE WITH YOU
I'M NOT WELL AT BEING HID
I WANT TO LET YOU LUST ME
AND LOVE ME ALL THE TIME
NO HIDING BEHIND A BUSH
NO SHUTTERS AND NO BLINDS
IT'S ALL LIGHT AND SHADOWS
IT'S ALL MIRRORS AND SMOKE
EMERSED IN FEAR, DESIRE
IT'S NOTHING BUT A JOKE
AS I WALK DOWN THE ALLEY
I STEP BETWEEN THE CRACKS
THINKIN ALL ABOUT THE ECHO
AND HOW I WANT YOU BACK
talile ali
09/2010
poem by Talile Ali
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Growing up #2
I never talk much about my Dad
Because, when I do I get very sad
I can't give my dad much credit
Dad didn't raise us, mom did it
Oh please don't get me wrong
I loved him, he used to sing songs
But dad could be mean with his words
I know, because I always heard
I heard him talk to mom, like she was a dog
And when he wanted his kids, it was to kill a hog
He would take us to his mothers
And they would sit and talk about others
They talked mean about mom and her kids
Like he didn't help bring us into this world, but he did
Don't get me wrong, I loved him, because he was my dad
But he always put his mother in front of my mom, and that was sad
Dad took us to his mothers one day
And we were sent out to play
While my dad set at her table and ate banana pudding
kids wasn't allowed to eat, mom got mad, because her kids couldn't
So mom came out and set with her kids
When dad got done, the fight was on, and she did
It was months before mom would go back over there
Heck it was months, before we went any where
The eight kids that mom and dad had
It was all left up to my mom, and that is so sad
If I had A gold award, I would ask my mom to stand up
Because dad didn't help us grow up
This gold statue, Is awarded to my mom
For raising five girls and three sons
poem by Frieda Lumpkins
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Simone
Days, months, and years cultivated in a hidden garden;
And a mountain top watered with love,
But with the melting of the valley around like walnuts!
Herbs and observations,
The pleasure ground of beauty and the glory of love;
Green in the midst of the water with the shades of trees,
But with love and sincere care to win your muse!
Simone,
Of this fertile land of apples, plums, apricots and pears;
But the phenomena around is full of your love!
Very curious and squatting,
With the melting of the valley around like walnuts;
But the Queen's native language is for us to learn,
And like a hard journey in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Time Is Of The Essance
The days pass from one to another
coming and going as the melting snow
days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months
the clock spins faster with every passing second
you cant rewind the past
you cant speed up the future
sometimes all you can do is press play
poem by Damien Weber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Propinquity (I've Just Begun To Care)
by Gerry Goffin & Carole King
The local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn their song,
They serenade the weekend squire
Who just came out to mow his lawn.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere,
Rows of houses that are all the same,
And no one seems to care.
See Mrs. Gray, she's proud today
Because her roses are in bloom,
And Mr. Green, he's so serene,
He's got a TV in every room.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land,
Mothers complain about how hard life is,
And the kids just don't understand.
Creature comfort goals, they only numb my soul,
And make it hard for me to see.
Ahhh...thoughts all seem to stray to places far away,
I need a change of scenery.
Ta ta ta ta, ta ta ta ta... (etc.)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
(fade out)
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Around the corner
I wont tell you the stories he has told me,
or the reason why for weeks and months
he couldn't sleep.
About the walk around the corner,
he kept walking round that corner,
walking round that corner
for days and months and weeks.
That isn't my story to tell you, only his;
but I can tell you that he walks around
that corner through his days
and through his weeks.
I can tell you that he marched them home
leading from the front,
right down through the Guildhall
to the sound of thudding drum.
I can tell you that he marched all those
young boys home.
All of them, but one.
poem by Diana Rosser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Leonard Cohen
moss ceramics history buried by tens of wounds, the precipitated event piles as plankton, dissolved oil dressing your head, walked on through the edge of continent, the questions strikes this frozen wall, a series of sentences that settles in the glass, the bleak tones, the trees of the world of dreams, the forest of words, you're standing on the edge of a small river, who looked up to heaven? Then open the identity of this song, at first glance is never seen, only the rhythm permeates the soul, and like the wind gently blowing, suddenly flushed dusk, resigned murmur, swallow the valley, the sound is lost in the echoes, the poem becomes oil consolation, led to an eternity, you take another step, slowly into the valley, singing will be gone, but you never worry, because the books have you singing rewrite it.
(2010)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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O! Buddha Look Behind
O! Buddha look behind for a while,
And see how in the religious
Narrow mindedness what havoc
Your followers play with the humanity.
Though I do not regard you a prophet,
Yet no less than towering apostles of the time.
See how followers of Muhammad (PBUH)
And Alia are victimized by your deviated cliques,
They bestow you grandeur and dignity,
Hundreds of years before they hailed upon the Earth.
O! Buddha look behind for a while,
And remember how you were troubled,
On seeing sufferings of the human fellows,
Irrespective to caste creed and colour.
Remember how often you wept at nights,
Discarding all regal pleasures of the palace,
You escaped to the nearby woodland,
And mediated for weeks by exposing
Yourself to the winds and harshness of weather,
And once you saw the Enlightenment
Beneath a thick shady Banyan.
I have a belief in presence of the Omnipresent,
And the enlightenment was his manifestation,
You found the existence but I have a faith.
O! Buddha look behind for a while,
And remember how you prayed for
That some thirsty animal should quench
Thirst by drinking your blood,
And the starved hungry by eating your flesh,
The shivering beings in cold might warm themselves,
By burning your bones, and the needy naked
Might clad by stitching the dress of your skin.
O! Buddha look behind for a while,
How your followers distorted your teachings,
They on plains and forest of Burma,
Have fried in the cauldrons the kids and infants,
Of the followers of Muhammad (PBUH) and Alia:
Whom you dreamt, you founded the religion,
They are being rustled in the boiling oil,
Men and women are being chased to death,
Their limbs are being cut asunder with sharp
Weapons: swords, rapiers, daggers and knives,
Their chests are perforated with the bullets,
Streets of the cities and villages are coloured red,
Blood is splattered all-around and smoke rises
From ashes of the burnt cottages,
Dead bodies lay there indisposed in the streets,
On the plains and in thick forests of Burma,
Stench of the burnt flesh torments even animals,
The cruelty has surpassed all precedents of history.
O! Buddha look behind for a while,
And speak me whether the brute are your disciples,
Or the ones whom you have cursed and condemned,
And to whom you have no relations at all.
U.N.O is silent, N.A.T.O's peace keeping forces
Do not have any concern for the Muslims
Are being killed, I myself am a culprit, a wrongdoer
For I don't have the courage to raise voice
And shake conscience of the kings and heads of the states,
Who live in the palaces with numerous wives
And whores and with the children whom often
They do not recognize if by chance
They encounter them in the palaces amid the ocean.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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We only work four days a week, we only work three weeks out of the month, and we get four months off for the summer. So there's plenty of time for me to spend with the kids.
quote by Patricia Heaton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Sector A
All that we can do is just survive
All that we can do to help ourselves is stay alive
Ragged lines of ragged grey
Skeletons, they shuffle away
Shouting guards and smoking guns
Will cut down the unlucky ones
I clutch the wire fence until my fingers bleed
A wound that will not heal
A heart that cannot feel
Hoping that the horror will recede
Hoping that tomorrow well all be freed
Sickness to insanity
Prayer to profanity
Days and weeks and months go by
Dont feel the hunger
Too weak to cry
I hear the sound of gunfire at the prison gate
Are the liberators here?
Do I hope or do I fear?
For my father and my brother, its too late
But I must help my mother stand up straight
Are we the last ones left alive?
Are we the only human beings to survive?
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knit culture
She’s my wife and they, my kids, people say.
Their growth and decay is mine, they judge.
I’m her spouse and kids’ father to the mass.
My growth and decay has bearing on them.
I serve for their up and they stand by me,
Thanks to the survival of knit culture.
26.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Daughter...Best Friend Sister Mother to Me...My Precious Melina
Melina...My Daughter, Best Friend, Sister and Mother To Me.
User Rating:
Melina....the superstar of my life...
You walked along with me and soon became my great friend
Then hurt walked left a shattered life we have much to mend
Youthful life, kids to guide, a great toll in your hands lay,
With every fall you must rise a Herculean Task you got to play
Precious jewel, indeed a God's Blesings a wonder like you.
I awake to cross the line of our next phase, though i fear it so
Its time to let go, the many decisions, you must make
No longer to soon, to lose you to the world outside, a step i take
You gave me time, now i step behind, as u travel on your own
My job will be, still undone, even with the years fast flown.....
Perfected with unspoken pain, a quality, a style, and good grace.
May God be with you, as with dignity you softly tread in life's race
love Mum
Create Date: Saturday, April 17,2010
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The summer it snowed
Blue skies
yards of green
flowers of mulitude
among such wonderess gifts
I walk towards my ever nearing
winter
My lungs full of dirty snow
I hear not the singing of birds
but the calling of my black forcast
Summer
kids play
boats sail
I succum
no longer able to shovel
the snow away
Yet in peace in tread
for months are now weeks
and soon weeks will be days
For me spring brought fall
and the summer brought
snow
and the winter will bring
my forever peace
poem by Vincent Armone
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Shrinking World
We live in a shrinking world
that grows smaller with each day.
Friends that live thousands of miles away
now only seem just a few hours away.
It is not that world is getting smaller
or that we are getting larger.
It is just that technology
is bringing us closer each day.
A trip that used to take months to do
is only a few hours away.
We can now fly half way around the world
and land there on the same day.
Communication makes it easier
to talk to one another
where as before letters
could take weeks to arrive.
News flashes around the world
just moments after it has happened.
We live closer to one another now
and our aspirations grow higher.
Though we grow closer
its always nice to give someone a hug.
It is more reassuring than seeing pictures
from a thousand miles away.
17 September 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Valley Of The Dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Went the gang of four
Song number one and the rhythm up amping
Drummer beats down 4/4 rock ranking
A bass so deep thud thud spines shaking
And all around mad eyes are rolling
Made up and stunning
As the feet get moving
As the pressure rising
White faces staring
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gang of four
Song after song rockettes up rocking
One hundred watts scream man
My ears are bleedin
Hot bodies charged blonde locks a givin
And all around - young girls are fainting
Their hearts a pumpin
As the spikes are dancing
Shank girl shanking
I saw love vibrating
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gallant four
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
As into the valley of the dolls
4 skulls are splitting
5 fingers are clicking
6 strings are burning
7th hour approaching
8 legs are stomping
9 lives are groovin
10 thousand coasting
X generating
As into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley
Into the valley of the dolls
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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