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To the Departing Daughter

Making the house, the yard, the streets desolate,
To depart is the daughter’s perennial fate,
May upon your head overshadow benedictions,
To shield you against sufferings, thorns of hate,
And always taste you sweet fragrant pleasures,
The loosened tears become roses, soon or late.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses on the Earth

Roses on the Earth
Shameful work you are doing
Laughing and smiling still then.
You are floating in the sea of poverty and sorrows
still you have
no hesitation,
No tension,
And no worries.
Can you say me to secret of your smile?
We are in surprise.
People see you and have a pity on your fate.
But you are always away from
the luxury of the fate.
Your profession is garbage collection.
No body can enter easily in your profession except you.
I have seen Roses in the garden.
They are blooming with the thorns.
You are also smiling with unlimited sorrows and poverty
Even on the heap of the garbage
which is more painful than the thorns.
We can say them
“The Roses on the Earth”

poem by Vijay Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High Price Of Hate

Got the eyes of a vulture
As you gaze from your meaningless throne
And the pain that youve been selling
Id rather die before Id own
Ill call you a doctor
Or find you a priest
cause no one can save you
And you wont get no peace
Ive felt your displeasure
And girl I used to relate
So dont hand me no anger
Ill be crushed by the weight
Thats the high price of hate
Thats the high price of hate
Lord whats the cost of my fate
Shell lay out wide open
Like a surgical knife
Ive watched it take over
Whats left of your miserable life
Shell live on deception
Your pleasures long dead
Your soul is left bleeding
From the lies that you spread
Dont pull on my collar
I wont rise to debate
Dont ask me for comfort
Youre a lifetime too late
Thats the high price of hate
Thats the high price of hate
Lord whats the cost of my fate
Oooh, theres a storm overhead
Will it ever end baby
Its all inside your head
Is it gonna end
Thats the high price of hate
Thats the high price of hate
Yeah, I hope I aint asking too late
Thats the high price of hate
Thats the high price of hate

song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Friendship Ain't Fateful

Late out of state without absolute hate,
I decline to incline my fate into failure’s plate
I perceive not me able to be for you that great
Yet you make perfect of me, even in my state
Looking down upon me not, yet looking upon me without hate
Of how it came to being is a mystery that revives history in slate
Oh how I hate the thought I could lose my current state
In hate I’d sulk to ever cross a path that seals this fate
Can destiny and fate really drag me away? I doubt; they’re late

poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet LXXIII. To A Querulous Acquaintance

THOU! whom Prosperity has always led
O'er level paths, with moss and flow'rets strewn;
For whom she still prepares a downy bed
With roses scatter'd, and to thorns unknown,
Wilt thou yet murmur at a misplaced leaf?
Think, ere thy irritable nerves repine,
How many, born with feelings keen as thine,
Taste all the sad vicissitudes of grief;
How many steep in tears their scanty bread;
Or, lost to reason, Sorrow's victims! rave:
How many know not where to lay their head;
While some are driven by anguish to the grave!
Think; nor impatient at a feather's weight,
Mar the uncommon blessings of thy fate!

poem by Charlotte Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shield Of Abraham

(kinky friedman)
Jacob climbed the ladder, climbed it to the sky,
Said, people, whats the matter ?
Heaven aint so high,
People, heaven aint so high,
When you got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
The years were lights they wandered in the desert 40 years
And ol moses told the children
brush away them tears,
Hey, kids, this aint no time for tears.
Children
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
David, he fought goliath with nothing but a tiny stone.
David, little david, God knows youre not alone,
God knows youre not alone.
David, you got the shield,
Youve got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little david.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Rock and roll redeemer, oh people, hear my song,
And let the music keep us loving, let the spirit keep us strong,
Let your sweet love keep us strong.
cause weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield ...

song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Sufferings- the Key to Life

Through sufferings, we are born to lead this life;
Through sufferings, we are even baptized;
Through sufferings, we all must meet our strife;
Through sufferings, we’re even magnetized.

Through sufferings, sometimes we have our joy!
Through sufferings, we earn our livelihood;
Through sufferings, we grew to man from boy;
And sufferings’ our teacher from childhood!

Through sufferings, we learn in life good things;
Through sufferings, we learn to live well, pray!
Through sufferings, big truths, this world us brings;
By sufferings, we fight ‘gainst Tempter’s ways.

Yet, sufferings- a blessing God us gave,
To keep the road to Heaven, well behave!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Amidst the thorns

Roses in profusion
bloomed along our garden wall.
They were both red and yellow-
tea hybrids, I recall.
There were thorns too,
as I well knew,
standing guard among the blooms.

A careless creature soon would learn
to give the rose wide berth
An agony of thorns awaits
the careless of the earth.
Yet thorns permit the bees to come
and pollen to transpose.
and, if careful, they'll admit
my own scent seeking nose

I think thorns serve their purpose well
else roses would be trampled
The thorns are roses' guardians
and not inconsequential.
Without a thorn, the rose, forlorn,
is destined for the ashes.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses in the Valley

roses roses in the valley below
peaking up from the dead ground we know
one lil angle stands there crying
but not a single rose is dying
she tries to take flight with thorns in her wings
white is turning to deep deep red
red just like the roses she looks down upon
with thorns made red, and tears rolling down
the angel is dying with every tear that falls
the roses with petals of silk
shall catch the angel who's wings are no longer white as milk
now she lays down to stay
in a valley of roses that will live everyday
i am the angel
the angel that can no longer fly away
my dreams live on
like the roses, each and every day

poem by Sally Minns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hate The World

I hate every hair on your head
I wish you were dead
I'll burn your house down
smash your car
sell your rims and go to the bar
I hate this place
despise the human race
I hate your laugh
I hate your eyes
I hate your lies
I hate everything
hated my schools
hate my job
but more than anything else
Its me
I hate myself
I hate this poem
I hate right now
I hate this computer
I hate my fingers
I hate you
I hate movies
I hate tv
go die

poem by Matt Cervantes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Millenium

we've got stars directing our fate
and we're praying its not too late
millennium
some say that we are players
some say that we are pawns
but we've been making money since the day that we were born
then slow down before we fall down
we've got stars directing our fate
and we're praying its not too late
cause we know we're falling from grace
millennium
live for liposuction
and detox for your rent
overdose at Christmas
and give it up for lent
my friends are all so cynical
refuse to keep the faith
we all enjoy the madness cause we know we're gonna to fade away
we've got stars directing our fate
and we're praying it's not too late
cause we know we're falling from grace
millennium
come and have a go if you think you are hard enough (X2)
millennium (X2)
we've got stars directing our fate
and we're praying it's not too late
cause we know we're falling from grace
millennium
and when we come we always come to late
i often think that we were born to hate
get up and see the sarcasm in my eyes (X2)
we've got stars directing our fate
(millennium)and we're praying its not too late
(millennium)cuase we know we're falling from grace
millennium

song performed by by Robbie Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Bidding Farewell

When there is no one around me,
I peep out through the window,
That opens to the back yard of past.

When I was a child very small,
Could hardly run about in the streets,
Came out holding finger of my mother,
To bid farewell to the young-men,
Of the village who enlisted themselves,
To render the daring sacred job,
Of defending the feeding motherland.

Still I recall the time remote,
And see men, women and children,
Bidding farewell, waving their hands,
The old mothers kissing the faces,
The fathers embracing them with love,
Patting the backs of well-built sons,
Well-bred with milk and pure butter.

The damsels weeping smiled,
To conceal sighs of their hearts,
Hoping their soon return,
To make them their own brides,
And award them wedding pleasures,
But the innocent hearts knew not.
Seldom return whom the country calls.

The great people whom I remember,
Passing away to the world of eternity,
Made the streets despairingly desolate.
The life forced me to leave the place,
Often I visit, find it the village of the dead,
Inhabitants are confined in the walls,
They neither laugh nor share the tears.

Ah! Lust for wealth has hardened,
The soft fertile lands of hearts,
Making us all devoid of sentiments.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vanity Of The Creature Sanctified

Honey though the bee prepares,
An envenomed sting he wears;
Piercing thorns a guard compose
Round the fragrant blooming rose.

Where we think to find a sweet,
Oft a painful sting we meet:
When the rose invites our eye,
We forget the thorn is nigh.

Why are thus our hopes beguiled?
Why are all our pleasures spoiled?
Why do agony and woe
From our choicest comforts grow?

Sin has been the cause of all!
'Twas not thus before the fall:
What but pain, and thorn, and sting,
From the root of sin can spring?

Now with every good we find
Vanity and grief entwined;
What we feel, or what we fear,
All our joys embitter here.

Yet, through the Redeemer's love,
These afflictions blessings prove;
He the wounding stings and thorns,
Into healing med'cines turns.

From the earth our hearts they wean,
Teach us on his arm to lean;
Urge us to a throne of grace,
Make us seek a resting place.

In the mansions of our King
Sweets abound without a sting;
Thornless there the roses blow,
And the joys unmingled flow.

poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quand Meme

AGE pauses on his toilsome way
To let youth pluck her flowers of play;
Flowers are not always, but we may
Cut thorns and thistles any day.

Would Fate but hold her hand one hour,
Then might we pluck love's perfect flower;
Yet full security might miss
The perfume of one hour like this.

For all our joys are snatched from Fate,
Through years her ban makes desolate;
We wrest our love from doubt and fear,
And find it so more sweet, more dear.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With My Sweet Love

Come and taste my fruits of love and depart from evil,
For evil will always slay the wicked!
And like the shield and the buckler which are dark and slippery,
I will rescue your life with my sweet love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Snowman in the Yard

The Judge's house has a splendid porch, with pillars and steps of stone,
And the Judge has a lovely flowering hedge that came from across the seas;
In the Hales' garage, you could put my house and everything I own,
And the Hales have a lawn like an emerald and a row of poplar trees.
Now I have only a little house, and only a little lot,
And only a few square yards of lawn, with dandelions starred;
But when Winter comes, I have something there that the Judge and the Hales have not,
And it's better worth having than all their wealth--it's a snowman in the yard.

The Judge's money brings architects to make his mansion fair;
The Hales have seven gardeners to make their roses grow;
The Judge can get his trees from Spain and France and everywhere,
And raise his orchids under glass in the midst of all the snow.

But I have something no architect or gardener ever made,
A thing that is shaped by the busy touch of little mittened hands:
And the Judge would give up his lonely estate, where the level snow is laid
For the tiny house with the trampled yard, the yard where the snowman stands.

They say that after Adam and Eve were driven away in tears
To toil and suffer their life-time through, because of the sin they sinned,
The Lord made Winter to punish them for half their exiled years,
To chill their blood with the snow, and pierce their flesh with the icy wind.

But we who inherit the primal curse, and labour for our bread,
Have yet, thank God, the gift of Home, though Eden's gate is barred:
And through the Winter's crystal veil, Love's roses blossom red,
For him who lives in a house that has a snowman in the yard.

poem by Joyce Kilmer from Main Street and Other Poems (1917)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Roses, Roses

Roses, Roses blooming bright!
In earth’s gardens; ‘What a sight! ’
Studding plants in dawn’s dew, light;
And perfuming day and night!

Queen of flowers, roses stay;
Budding, blossoming en way;
Hues pretty, very well laid;
Decorating bride and maid.

Oh, what mind had shaped thee thus!
And what hearts enjoy thy bliss;
Thorns amongst green leaves just say,
‘Beauty needs protection, Aye! ’

Roses, Roses petaled fine;
Standing glorious in sunshine;
Beauty unmatched on earth, thine;
Making garlands more divine!

Roses add to Mary’s crown,
Reciting Rosaries when;
Blessings and grace then come down,
Making souls fit for heaven!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Daughter’s New Daughter

My daughter’s new daughter
How precious and sweet
Beautifully perfect
From her head to her feet

Ten tiny fingers
And ten tiny toes
All dressed up in lace
With a cute button nose

I look at her face
And I see her bright smile
I have to admit
Takes me back quite awhile

I remember the day
Brought my own daughter home
More precious than anything
I’d ever known

My daughter’s new daughter
How precious and sweet
Beautifully perfect
From her head to her feet

poem by L. Pierson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns. I am thankful that thorns have roses.

quote by Alphonse Karr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.