Despise The Mines
One despises the narrow ways,
Immense bags of weary mines
Conjoin with miniature stones,
And death instigates hollow nature.
Clearly we saw death as high,
In the coke mines, the coal mines
Of straight nature, a scenery of time.
To drive some melodic event
On oneself terminates the small masses.
This factory puny, that factory mad and screeching,
We are shadows of the same train.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My great-grandfather was a coal miner, who worked in Pennsylvania mines when carts were pulled by mules and mines were lit by candles. Mining was very dangerous work then.
quote by Tim Murphy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight From The Factory
Straight from the factory
Straight from the factory
We were made for each other
One of those things thats meant to be
Straight from the factory
Nothin less than exactly
Youre the only lock thats made to fit my key.
Many parts and many hearts
Been mismatched before
Still they make delivery.
Some folks send em back and never find what they need
But babe my satisfactions guaranteed.
Straight from the factory
We were made for each other
One of those things thats meant to be
Straight from the factory
Nothin less than exactly
Youre the only lock thats made to fit my key.
(instrumental)
Straight from the factory
We were made for each other
One of those things thats meant to be
Straight from the factory
Nothin less than exactly
Youre the only lock thats made to fit my key.
Sittin tight and sittin proud
Waitin on a shove
Passers by just keep on passin by
Ill admit I did a bit of passin by myself
Til I found a perfect fit
And now Im tied.
Straight from the factory
We were made for each other
Perfect match as anyone can see
Straight from the factory
Nothin less than exactly
Youre the only lock thats made to fit my key.
Youre the only lock thats made to fit my key.............
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Harvest for Friend Corey
The seeds of death are planted by
men reckless of the consequence
They’re meant to kill the enemy.
But they can destroy innocence.
The warring factions have moved on.
Survivors try to till their land
convinced they’re safe that dangers gone.
They simply do not understand.
Land mines don’t differentiate
between a friend and enemy.
They have been armed and lie in wait
until exploding suddenly.
They are designed to kill and
and this they do impartially.
It’s difficult to name and blame
the authors of each tragedy.
There’s very little you can do
except donate towards the cause.
To pay the experts willing to
clear up the land mines left by wars.
This is your chance to show you
care enough to help financially.
We can provide the men who dare
disarm the land mines carefully
To let subsistence farmers farm
so they can feed their families
Without the constant fear of harm
from dangers which they cannot see.
And leave the children free to play
as children are entitled to.
We can all help in some small way
but only if we’re willing too.
3-Feb-09 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Forgiveness Poem) An Open Battle Field
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Controlling the masses
Just bow down.
And take it in the rear.
Watch as you lose another one you hold so dear.
Falling off the radar.
Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Is this where the poor live?
How long do you think you can survive?
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The world is committing suicide.
Everyone just swallow your pride.
If you expect the help from others.
You got to give all you have give.
Lord in my heart let me forgive.
No matter my hated enemy.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
It is a forced occurrence.
Not as we want but as we must.
The rules of greed.
In heaven I concede.
Their can't be this hierarchy.
Ruled under one thumb.
The gloom of this darkness.
Follow the leader.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
The teachers, or the preachers?
How do we view one another.
Painting another pretty rainbow.
The colors of the perfected flaws.
Lets put everything on pause.
Just look at us.
Divided by nothing.
Yet communication is non existent.
With every second the meaning is yet to met.
Dire consequences.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
Grabbing the gun and knife.
Preparing to defends ones life.
All because we can't share.
Like little children we fight our wars.
With equality being important above all else.
Death to this diluted common practice.
Lets just be as we are.
Deny the skies all you want.
Their still there.
Hovering in the air.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
I'm already gone.
In a higher place.
In a world disapproving.
To my conclusion.
But I don't even care.
I don't believe in fair.
I expect to receive the worst.
Cause in this life we have been cursed.
But it is the only way we can learn.
With the heart it has to be earned.
With all that is good I'm concerned.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
We are men that have the ability to find choice.
With this we should rejoice.
But instead we try to remove it and the responsibility of it.
Should I be angry?
Should I be mad?
Should I try to destroy other men?
With hope I pray that I can be forgiven.
Evil is the intent.
The world is trying to circumvent.
Shortcuts to the end.
My heart is an open battle field
Shoot your bombs.
Lay your mines.
With every wound received.
I will be fine.
Swimming through the time
Let me hit the point of being numb.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes
Sometimes I don't know what to do with myself.
Sometimes i want to be alone.
Sometimes I feel like I should push you away.
Just to see if you would go.
Sometimes I want you to leave
just to see if you like it more away...
Sometimes I wanna tell you everything,
but I don't want you to judge me.
Sometimes I wanna hold your hand,
but I'm scared you'll let mines go.
Sometimes I wanna tell you how much I like you..
But I'm afraid you wouldn't wanna know.
Sometimes I wanna treat you good,
but I'm afraid you'd take advantage,
sometimes I wanna give you all of me,
But I don't think you want the challenge
Sometimes I want you to be mines,
but I think you'd be better with someone else.
Sometimes I need you more then ever,
but I'm afraid to ask for help.
Sometimes I wanna call your phone,
but I'm afraid that you'd be busy.
Sometimes I wish you'd walk past,
but I'd assume that you'd just miss me.
Sometimes I wanna run to you
But I'm scared I wouldn't find you
Sometimes I wanna kiss you
But are you really mines to?
Sometimes I want you to believe in me
But I'm scared you'll doubt me
Sometimes I want you to stay
But I don't think you care about me.
poem by Vanessa Mercado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Working At The Factory
All my life I've been a workin' man
When I was at school they said that's all you'll ever understand
No profession. I didn't figure in their plans
So they sent me down factory to be a workin' man
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
Now I'm here seemingly free, but working at the factory.
The music came along and gave new life to me
And gave me hope back in 1983
The music came and set me free
From working at the factory
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream but in reality
It was just another factory
I made the music , thought that was mine
It made me free , but that was in another time
But then the corporations and the big combines
Turned musicians into factory workers on assembly lines.
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
We made the music to set ourselves free
From working at the factory.
All my life I've put in a working day
Now it's sign the contract. Get production on the way
Take the money, make the music pay
Working at the factory
All I lived for was to get out of the factory.
Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream but in reality
Was just another factory
Working at the factory.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Factory
Early in the morning factory whistle blows,
Man rises from bed and puts on his clothes,
Man takes his lunch, walks out in the morning light,
Its the working, the working, just the working life.
Through the mansions of fear, through the mansions of pain,
I see my daddy walking through them factory gates in the rain,
Factory takes his hearing, factory gives him life,
The working, the working, just the working life.
End of the day, factory whistle cries,
Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes.
And you just better believe, boy, somebodys gonna get hurt tonight,
Its the working, the working, just the working life.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Factory
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Heads are down and all the people frown
In the factory
I'm so down I put my head around every noose I see
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Eyes are mean but the walls are clean
In the factory
Patience now they're gonna string you out
In the factory
I'm so tired I never go outside every night I sleep
Days are long but the minds are gone
In the factory
song performed by by The Vines from Highly Evolved
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Curious Is Nature
How curious the occasion
Of the funeral procession
Of a young and innocent being
The ceasing of song,
and the darkness of death, The sunlight
thought no more to be seen
How curious that Nature
All around this sad event allows the sun
to yet shine and the birds to still sing
Perhaps Nature knows more than
One would suppose, and that death is
No more than a soul taking wing
Aye, how curious
Tis death
And the nature of things
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No One Should Ever Silence You
People are probably are getting tired of it
Ready to tell me to shut hell up
But they just don't get it.
The message must reach
It must be heard
Even If sounds quite absurd
Let my passion fill the pages
Let it carry out the answers
To diabolic equations
Let it be sensation
To the hearts and mines of those who know of love
To the hearts and mines of those are down on their luck.
Your not the only one
They're a million of us.
Each screaming.
Of the harsh reality in which we are living.
Get angry for we should not be so forgiving
If this only reaches one person
Then I have accomplished my mission.
Know you can speak too.
No one should ever silence you.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pidgeon Roost Hollow
I'm living upon Pidgeon Roost Hollow-Where the sun seldom ever shines-Trying hard to make a dollar-Working in these dreary coal mines-I'm not happy on Pidgeon Roost Hollow-Tears are streaming down my face-If I ever get enough money-I'm sure gonna leave this place-I could never find the right woman-That I wanted for my wife-I had to accept the painful truth-I'll be a batchlor all of my life-I'll travel away down south-Where the days are filled with sun-I'll try to save enough money -To buy a little home for one.
poem by Joy Thacker
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Ode to Salt
This salt
in the salt cellar
I once saw in the salt mines.
I know
you won't
believe me
but
it sings
salt sings, the skin
of the salt mines
sings
with a mouth smothered
by the earth.
I shivered in those
solitudes
when I heard
the voice
of
the salt
in the desert.
Near Antofagasta
the nitrous
pampa
resounds:
a
broken
v oice,
a mournful
song.
In its caves
the salt moans, mountain
of buried light,
translucent cathedral,
crystal of the sea, oblivion
of the waves.
And then on every table
in the world,
salt,
we see your piquant
powder
sprinkling
vital light
upon
our food.
Preserver
of the ancient
holds of ships,
discoverer
on
the high seas,
earliest
sailor
of the unknown, shifting
byways of the foam.
Dust of the sea, in you
the tongue receives a kiss
from ocean night:
taste imparts to every seasoned
dish your ocean essence;
the smallest,
miniature
wave from the saltcellar
reveals to us
more than domestic whiteness;
in it, we taste finitude.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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When the playtime (recess) bell rings
When the playtime bell rings, it's time to cease fun,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to grow up,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to get serious.
When the factory whistle blows it's time to roll sleeves up,
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to pay bills
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to forego rebellious thought
When the church bells chime, it's time for commitment,
when the church bells chime, it's time to make plans
when the church bells chime, it's time to make compromise
When the death knoll tolls, it's time for regrets
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for rethinking
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for peace
poem by Jason Jackson
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Decay Of Innocence
We value Nintendo, Xbox and PlayStation 3,
Over our ethics and the way the world should be.
Double quarter pounder, super sized coke and fries,
While Cambodians starve and children die.
We abuse our teachers and our schools,
While children slave on fields as labour tools.
This pen in my hand as I write this now,
Was manufactured by a child in a factory town.
We turn on the news; the new IPhone is here,
And we neglect the next segment of fatalities, famine and fear.
We are proud of our reputation; the fattest nation on earth!
While malnutrition plagues children from birth.
And we smoke our cigarettes and drink our beer,
Ignorant that we’re only bringing our own death near.
We permit factories to pump fossil fuels into the air,
Disregarding its effect: I don’t know… I don’t care.
Coral reefs die, Bush fires burn,
And mines empty the earth, while oil rigs churn.
We are devastated by Swine flu and the many that die,
Not shedding a tear, but for Michael Jackson we cry.
And sons of Palestine, bleeding in hospital beds,
Getting slaughtered by Israeli planes flying overhead.
We are aware of the economic crisis, feeling its pain,
However is it not conspicuous, we are to blame?
What will be of us once our IPods are broken, our pens write no more?
Once cigarettes, alcohol and drugs consume us all?
And long after the last corals are dead and forests burnt?
And long after fossil fuels plague the earth?
What’s done is done and we can’t change the past,
But the future is now and the future is us.
I was once the Cambodian hungry in my sleep,
I was once working in fields, blisters in my feet.
I was a child of malnutrition searching for food in an empty bin,
While others fuelled their addiction, on the streets, money in their tin.
I was once a child soldier at the age of ten,
And once worked in a factory to manufacture this pen.
I write this now not to boast or preach,
But to educate, inspire and to teach.
Equality is not a privilege, but a right to us all,
As is laughter for a child and playing football.
The sparkle in a child’s eye, the essence of innocence and to be gay,
Nothing should take that angelic nature away.
However neglecting the world, not looking beyond today,
Causes that innocence to decay.
poem by Basil Jaber (2009)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Factory Girl
(original by the rolling stones; remixed by maxim)
Waiting for a girl whos got curlers in her hair
Waiting for a girl she has no money anywhere
We get buses everywhere
Waiting for a factory girl
Waiting for a girl and her knees are much too fat
Waiting for a girl who wears scarves instead of hats
Her zippers broken down the back
Waiting for a factory girl
Waiting for a girl and she gets me into fights
Waiting for a girl we get drunk on friday night
Shes a sight for sore eyes
Waiting for a factory girl
Waiting for a girl and shes got stains all down her dress
Waiting for a girl and my feet are getting wet
She aint come out yet
Waiting for a factory girl
song performed by by Prodigy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Death Is Great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: what death is great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
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Nothing on Earth to write in my will, my Son!
O my Son!
The wide expanses of the Skies
I have earmarked in my will-
'Only Yours'.
The sparkling diamonds
Sprayed thick in the Nightly Heavens
I asserted ' Yours '
With all my heart.
The unbridled herds of Clouds
Grazing the limitless Blue
To whom but you
Would i bequeath?
The glittering lavas of gold and silver
Billowing out of the mines
Of the marvellous Sun-
' Surely Yours '.
Sorry, my Son,
Nothing on earth
Could I encompass
As my own all my life
To leave for you in my will!
A request, my Son-
These my eyes that feasted on
Ever since birth
Every spectacle of Nature-
Would you donate at death
To a poor little kid
Who can regain its impaired vision
To partake in the joys of this World?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Isn't this what happiness is supposed to feel like?
Running to my happy place
The closest place to 'home'
Life so filled w/ misery
The only thing I've known
So here I am
just you and I
As I take the final strike
Isn't this what happiness is supposed to feel like?
I don't want no one to know our secrete
I won't tell a soul
I'll hide it all
They'll never see it
So now here I go
I give you all of me
& what do I get in return?
Happiness, pure happiness
It's finally my turn
I don't wan't any evidence
No one can see the proof
No one's allowed to know about
what happens between me and you
They'll take you
Imitate you
Try to have you to themselves
But you're mines
only mines..
My only escape from hell
I just don't know how to thank you
I don't know how you learned
I run to you EVERY time
You give me what I deserve
The pain is just so perfect
I control it all
I smile as I watch you
work your way down my arm
Slices here
Slices there
every slice so right
Isn't this what happiness is supposed to feel like?
poem by Vanessa Mercado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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