Acts Of Losing
The act of losing erupts,
My agreement with the gods collects
And the gathering of dust arises.
My approval of the events
Has shaped brilliant ants.
Amuse yourself with an apple and cloth,
The elixirs of cold weather result.
Woes are adrift, passion seeps in,
While the confused scene sternly
Revolves around the century.
My jawbone collapses with incalculable aspects,
The mouth has a colour of fortune.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Century Of Events
A century of events collapses into ruin,
A blighted time has arrived at the doorstep.
Once the rickety bridge has been crossed,
Our speeches concretely define our tastes.
The notable fish of the time indeed,
The notable fish of the times of our realm
Are swimming and diving in the sea of radiance
To further annoy the other fish of this century.
Our needs are met by guests of brilliance
Interested by accusations and ploys hurting.
The century is a whole century of guilt
When from all sides of the globe
The conquerors work upon us to rid us
Of benefit and love for each other.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Shivery
This cold cold weather, bids me not
to energetic spree
I stand and shiver, wondering how
To warm that cold cold me
If only I could make a start
It would not be bad it seems.
But somehow I just linger on
And do it, in my dreams.
My ideas are brilliant
They are plain to see
But ho, this cold cold weather
Does waste my time for me.
Agreement
Agreement signed
No party agreed
Nothing executed
No result
Nothing.
Dull moment ahead
Unfair pull push
Undercurrent on
Unique ability shown
Uncalled for opinion
Under the air.
Colour faded
Personnel retired.
For fresh agreement
Initiation started
No body present
Nothing happened
Nothing.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
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Every process which arises from our physical being and is related to it, is an event which lies outside of our volition. Every social process, however, arises from human intentions and human goal setting and occurs within the limits of our volition. Consequently, it is not subject to the concept of natural necessity. … We are here stating no prejudiced opinion, but merely an established fact. Every result of human purposiveness is of indisputable importance for man's social existence, but we should stop regarding social processes as deterministic manifestations of a necessary course of events. Such a view can only lead to the most erroneous conclusions and contribute to a fatal confusion in our understanding of historical events.
quote by Rudolf Rocker
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Warrior Red-Ants
I crushed some warrior-ants to death,
And wondered what, others would do;
And very promptly, came more ants
To investigate scene of crime!
These ants build nests upon the trees,
By gluing leaves with strange substance;
Their nests look like army barracks,
With sentry-ants guarding smartly!
The dead ants lay all strewn about;
A few of them were moving still;
And very soon, they too lay dead,
Like soldiers killed in battle-field!
The scout ants went from ant to ant,
Perhaps in search of ones alive;
Some went back fast to convey news
About the tragedy they saw!
And very soon, arrived more ants
To check if dead were truly dead;
Somehow, these ants smelt death itself;
They did it so effortlessly!
Each one of them lifted the dead,
By proboscis and sped back home;
Each ant with carcass upon mouth,
Ran back as fast as legs carried.
And in a trice, the dead were cleared;
The scene of crime was clean by now;
The work was finished in moments;
Yes, ants are truly busiest!
Oh, what respect ants show their dead!
How fast they rescue comrades hurt!
They proved they respected their dead;
Do human beings do like-wise?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-15-2008
poem by John Celes
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Hence, wherever we meet with vital phenomena that present the two aspects, physical and psychical there naturally arises a question as to the relations in which these aspects stand to each other.
quote by Wilhelm Wundt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unique Tapestries
A beautiful jersey with a cable pattern illustrating Many
Worlds Theory by weaving infinite threads of parallel
alternative events into cables spiralling rhythmically
in colour, sound and form
Evoking feeling and emotion, influencing choices which
change the future and past, creating unique tapestries on
the loom of the gods, threads made up of consciousness
shimmering in and out of existence
History is not an unfolding of preset events, but it is shaped
by every thought, plan, desire, wish, vision and dream; every
pattern is formed by free innovation, the alternative universes
of possible choices
Create the time-loop cables in reality’s tapestry, threads fork
innumerable times before converging again to continue the
enchanting patterns that keep gods and men staring
at the infinite possibility of probabilities…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Confused Atmosphere
Mother Nature may be confused, just like those, who have used,
This demeaning title to describe, the very God they have denied,
The Lord God, Who orders all, weather patterns, great and small,
He may never enter their minds, while stirring weather of all kinds.
Confused He isn't or will not be, for He is The Lord of all Eternity,
He is God of Order, up above; controlling weather men speak of,
And they truly don't understand, He controls the weather at hand,
Confusing only meteorologists, who dream Mother Nature exists.
They forecast the weather to come, not aware of where it is from,
Knowing not who is really behind, the weather they bring to mind,
Being shaken and very surprised, when it's not as they surmised,
But taking credit from their peers, for saying good weather nears.
Often times, you may even note, as weather is good some gloat,
About the returning of the sun, as if, it's something they've done,
Even though they may shy away, as bad weather comes our way,
Almost with a real reverence to, The Lord, to whom it is truly due.
For He is The Creator of this earth, Ruler over the whole universe,
He has, and always will control, all weather patterns, big or small,
With change meteorologists see, that fools the latest technology,
And it's those who have refused, God's Truth, who are confused.
Racism man wearing white
No stop pushing me becos
of the colour of my cloth
if nothing is done my cloth
will torn
i cann't put on white to please
you
my cloth is n't white
so leave me with my
own colour
if you do n't leave me alone
i will be force to shout
for help and if nobody help
i will be force to fight
and if i fight i will fight
to the last
so stop this racism of white
and black cloth.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Mistreated
Ive been mistreated, Ive been abused.
Ive been struck downhearted, baby, Ive been confused
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing my mind, you know I have.
Ive been lonely, Ive been cold.
Ive been looking for a woman to have and hold
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing, Ive been losing,
Ive been losing my mind, baby baby babe.
Ive been mistreated, Ive been abused.
Ive been looking for a woman, yeh, Ive been confused
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated, ooh o-o-oh.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing, losing,
Ive been losing my mind, baby baby babe.
Oh oh oh, oh woman, oh woman, oh woman.
Ive been losing my mind.
- ritchie blackmore & david coverdale
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Naturally enough, I couldn't have foreseen the vast sea change which has come upon that scene as a result of German reunification and associated events.
quote by Brian Ferneyhough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretty For You
Swallow this scene, Im on fire
Arms waving, burning higher
Impressing you with what Ive done
But every minute Im losing one by one
Swallow this scene, sharpen knives
Pin cushion, pierce my sides
And every blade will catch the sun
And every minute Im losing one by one
Right now pretty for you
Am I finally pretty?
An ornament for everyone
But every minute Im losing one by one
Swallow this scene, there is laughter
For the ugly ever-after
And after they have poked their fun
And every lover Im losing one by one
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prophet’s Zeal
The prophets are men of astonishing zeal,
Greatness reigns over their souls, so much meal.
Every prophet guarantees the result, the last day,
Professing special causes, leaning on shoulders.
Once war arises their brightness looms with divine light,
This action, this compulsion, and this pain, utters a sight.
Once they are seen, war erupts from the mountains too high,
And lava that is human flesh. Humans are troops, humans are!
When aid is given to the masses, prophets partake in conquest,
For their souls are no longer tested by the heads of government.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Mistreated
(blackmore/coverdale)
Ive been mistreated, Ive been abused.
Ive been struck downhearted, baby, Ive been confused
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing my mind, you know I have.
Ive been lonely, Ive been cold.
Ive been looking for a woman to have and hold
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing, Ive been losing,
Ive been losing my mind, baby baby babe.
Ive been mistreated, Ive been abused.
Ive been looking for a woman, yeh, Ive been confused
cause I know, yes, I know Ive been mistreated, ooh o-o-oh.
Since my baby left me Ive been losing, losing,
Ive been losing my mind, baby baby babe.
Oh oh oh, oh woman, oh woman, oh woman.
Ive been losing my mind.
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All about facts
Many years later I was to be told about facts in real
It was lavish celebration for new born arrival
There was great pomp and show to mark the birth
If it was possible they could have decorated complete earth
This is how people celebrate the event
For them it is pride and memorable moment
Who knows what fortune the born may bring?
Will he turn poor or become mighty king?
The luck may prove wrong and events may turn
The fun enjoyed at birth time may take ugly turn
The same pomp and show is not seen and there descends gloom
The extravagance is over and all are confined to single room
Well these are all predictions and has nothing to do
The things shape up not as per our desire to go through
It has all the relevance with continuance of long journey
There may remain poverty or accumulation of enormous money
The fortune is linked to child’s birth in family
Then good moments are remembered very easily
At every occasion it is repeated in good gathering
All credit is given auspicious birth and glimmering
What birth has to do with future events?
What linkage can be made for bad moments?
It might have shaped as per the changing schedule
There is no specific lay out or time module
It may be considered as bad omen
If misfortune is brought by any woman
It might have happened due to any other reason
We have tendency to pas on the blame to particular person
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The result of this union would be, not the fortuitous result of a series of approximations and concessions, but the harmonious synthesis of two aspects of a single thought.
quote by Jacques Ibert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tunnel
I start talking once you will say four summers
Are your dressage, the way you address me with solitude.
We are married when mothers are you and your soul
That blindly makes fifty years of your whole hat.
Ahead the fathers burgeon and brew with their tops on,
Faithful commanding is their accomplishment,
Faith is a strong result of their good doing.
Wells of water cannot amount to that moisture
Of the heart, a witty weather closes up the house,
No more is heard, no more seen.
I look healthy and energetic
To be the coiling cold, a realm of disaster,
Those cataclysms are furnaces from
The old prehistory,
Lava erupts in this summer of the sky.
Go down the tunnel of cleverness,
Enter the ancient rooms and hallways,
And the eerie passages are fed alone.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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Butts Wigglin'
The sweet sound of patent approval
comin' down in a not quite fog
The sweet sound of patent approval
comin' down in powdery sparks
The sweet sound of patent approval
comin' down with holiday concern
The sweet sound of patent approval comin'
down in a world of hurt
In my opinion the drug is ready
The warm hand of abject approval
comin' down with its' ropey veins
The warm hand of abject approval
comin' down to the fingerbowl
In my opinion the drug is ready
The cold eye of constant approval
comin' down to freeze the blood
The cold eye of constant approval
comin' down to look real close
In my opinion the drug is ready
song performed by by The Tragically Hip from Trouble At The Henhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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