I Heard Him
I heard the thunder in the forest,
All the way from my chamber,
Close enough I was from the matter and target,
What mattered was the ledge I showed.
Then they hauled him off,
After lightening struck on a stairwell;
I faced him as I kept my movements,
There was no more voice of manners.
Still I said my virtues, living out in the woods,
Hearing the circles of freakiness,
In a well my mind was a verbose philosophy,
A hacking strength of charismatic values.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
On The Ledge Under The Sky
You sit up high,
On a ledge under the sky,
Where wings don’t fly,
And humans don’t cry,
Up high on this ledge under the sky,
But why or why,
Do you want to fly?
When you can sit up on the sky,
And hear a voice that doesn’t die,
Or see a drifting tie,
On this ledge in the sky,
And smell a pie,
From miles and miles away a sty,
Under the sky,
Where no one can lie,
‘Cause we see everything from up high,
On this ledge under the sky,
Where you can wonder from your mind’s eye,
And your leg and thigh,
Dangle down from this ledge upon the sky,
Where one never does sigh,
Or look upon the rye,
On this ledge below the sky,
You can be a spy,
You can pry and pry,
And never will people see the tears you cry,
Up upon this ledge in the sky,
Never will you fly,
Or dream why or why,
For you’re already on the ledge under the sky.
Noiceless voice...
Are the razors sharper than your words?
No, your words are sharper,
as it cuts the heart,
without any incision.
Is the lightening the result of collision?
Yes, after every collision,
the electrifying lightening,
flash the mind then and there.
Do suppressed human have voice?
Yes, they talk to themselves,
with noiseless voice,
that has to be heard.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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None of That Sounded Like Sex to Me
~Noticing begins to open the mind.
Much like what Sunrise does upon the horizon...
When its light etches the darkness away from night,
With definition seen to highlight one's assisted vision.
And the brighter that light becomes,
An object begins to develop identity and cast a shadow.
As if attached to aid its meaning.
However...
When those clouds come,
And sometimes they do.
Expect some confusion to be done.
Since it will be difficult to determine,
If it will rain.
And...
That just may happen with or without lightening.
And/or no doubt with thunder.~
'With or without...
And slash or no doubt?
Don't they mean almost the same thing? '
~Huh?
What are you talking about? ~
'The lightening and thunder...
If it should come with clouds? '
~WHAT?
What does lightening and thunder have to do with it?
You kids don't listen with your ears or pay attention.
I'm talking about the birth of comprehension.
None of that has to do with lightening.
Maybe a bit of 'thunder' but rarely with lightening.~
'The birth of what?
None of that sounded like sex to me.'
~Your Honor...
If I may have a few words in my defense.
I need to explain why I stand before you today.
You see...
One of us had to be locked up.
So I knew If I 'tried' to knock some sense in his head...
It would be me found guilty! ~
'And Daddy...
That's why it's hard to listen to you at times.
Because you jump from subject to subject!
AND...
Don't worry about going to prison.
I'm going to volunteer to runaway.'
~When? How soon?
You need some money?
How much? ~
'See. See?
That's exactly what I'm talking about.
You're always joking.'
~Son...
Please take me seriously.
That's all I ask.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Voice of Love
After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude
There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd
There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?
I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.
poem by D'menz Veen
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Evil Blind
He spoke audibly
John the baptist heard Him
So did the multitude
He is alive
In my heart
He is alive
In heaven real
Speak Lord
Let us hear
Your voice again
Speak through thunder
Through lightening speak
With your voice
Make dead men rise
And with the wind
Your spirit felt
Come down again
On earth we plea
In your presence
Evil blind
Touch us
With your love sublime
Your strength
And power we seek
Keep us
Strong tower
Eternally
O King make Satan mute
Break his frame
His kingdom destitute
(12/3/09)
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Strength in weakness
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
A typical Pauline sophism?
A typical Pauline syllogism?
A typical Pauline casuistry?
A typical Pauline homily.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul was disabled, you see
Was he blind? You ask
Was he lame? You ask
Was it a speech impediment?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Oh! He was strong in spirit
But weak in appearance
He can’t be our leader, they said
He’s an embarrassment
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul said: “Yes, I am weak
But God’s strength is made perfect
In my weakness not in my strength
So up the weak and down the strong! (my words!)
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
We are all weak in some way
Weak in our words
Weak in our walk
Weak in our talk
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
But for God, weak means strong
Kingdom values, Kingdom virtues
Jesus’ values, Jesus’ virtues
My values? my virtues?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
So the lamb not the lion
The humble not the haughty
The lowly not the lofty
The penitent not the proud.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s value then the weak
And remember they are strong.
If I am proud, then I am wrong
If I am conceited, then I am wrong
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s fill the Church then with the weak
Push in the wheelchairs
Roll in the scooters
Help the handicapped walk in.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
“At even, ere the sun was set
The sick oh Lord, around thee lay
Oh, in what divers pains they met
Oh with what joy they went away
And none oh Lord, have perfect rest
For none are wholly free from sin;
For they who fain would serve thee best
Are conscious most of sin within.
Thy touch has still its ancient power
No word from thee can fruitless fall
Hear in this solemn hour we pray
And in thy mercy heal us all.”
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
For when I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness.
poem by James Hart
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Good Old Manners
What having manners mean?
Pompously speaking same tongue as Queen?
Knowing how fancy table perfectly is set
Or how to eat proper with not a stain or finger wet?
Whole complicated code of how to dress
Or to salute with gracious reverence?
Nooo, not really, isn't it more than that! ?
The Respect we've got to have
From deep inside
Not only showed, but really felt?
For anyone or anything..
Is watching self, be fair, good, keeping clean
Not stink, nor sting, never be mean
always being careful not to say or do
to others, any unpleasant thing!
Those are good manners, don't you think?
For any human kind to keep at heart
No matter if they're living
In a Palace or in a simple tiny Hut
If they don't know to read or write
or if they have an MBA at Oxford or Harvard.
The Simple Old Good Manners
Let all of us to be aware of Others
Then harmony, hopefully, we 'll find
For us, the human kind..
poem by Elena Sandu
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Your Always Missing
Something Strong is living on
Even though you’re gone
When I cry my tears
They create rain for you
Because you’re gone
I’m sitting by the bed side
Where you once laid
Many days I cry my self to sleep
And the rain comes to play with me
All I want is just you near
Missing everything that I want to share with you
Every time I close my eyes
I close my eyes with you
And I see your face next to mine
And the rain is above my head tonight
Missing words of lullabies
Sweet tender voice is silent
Rain comes to play
With lightening always striking
And your always missing
Walking in the park
Clouds always gray
Time with you was gone to soon
And theirs only tears and rain
So what is left to say today
Tree’s never swaying
Plants never growing and dancing with you and me
The rain is always here
It’s never that comforting to me
Missing words of lullabies
Sweet tender voice is silent
Rain comes to play
With lightening always striking
And your always missing
I just want to see you again
Singing a song with me
Never again to dance in the rain not without you I won’t
No more playing for me
But the rain is playing with me
Missing words of lullabies
Sweet tender voice is silent
Rain comes to play
With lightening always striking
And your always missing
Never to hear the silent cries
Only angels seem to hear
I’m guessing your up their too
But is the rain playing with you
Missing words of lullabies
Sweet tender voice is silent
Rain comes to play
With lightening always striking
And your always missing today
Your always missing from me
And the rain is crying with me
Thunder
Among so big a cloud
In the midst of lightening flashes
Is the voice of God to whom all will bow
For many a mile that is all you’ll hear
And the closer you get
The louder it is in your ear
As lightening surrounds you like a band
Powerful sound waves shake the earth
On which you stand
In so loud a voice it cries
O how puny and small you are
He who bows is wise
So will you bow to him who owns all?
Will you gladly serve Him,
In big things and in small?
So as rain laves
Remember...
Thunder is only a few sound waves
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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First Shot
I said I was hunting deer. I knew the trails, the split tracks and pellets of shit; circles
where they bedded down together. I faced a buck once, for almost ten minutes I think;
I moved first and it left me. I ran home to think.
I had a bow, target arrows, a target on straw. My father said be careful, and I was, but
I sneaked my bow and arrow to the woods. I surprised a tiny rabbit near a hole. It
froze. I had an arrow on it. I moved and it ran for the hole. I never shot.
They had a blanket, in a clearing of wiry grass that sloped to the north. He had her
down, her hands all over his back. I thought I knew her. They hadn't seen me. I notched
an arrow. His head turned my way, vague, like he needed his glasses, and maybe afraid.
I got scared, I wasn't sure what it was; I shot my arrow, my first shot, wild I think, and ran.
I waited for something for weeks, for more than weeks. I couldn't answer questions. I
thought I saw her a few times, later. I never went back until I was sixteen, almost, and
nothing was there but I only stayed for a minute.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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If you could try
withdrawn from all tales of romances,
trapped by the quiet soul beckoning inside,
avoiding promiscuous glances,
wings spread far too close to ever glide.
Whispers and rumors haunt your inner mind,
shadowing the heart inside of your core,
twisting and turning trust of which you find,
this is confusion galore.
Do you know what you're feeling, or can you not identify,
do you spark and wonder, like lightening and thunder,
what will be the other half to meet your alibi,
will you fall under, will you be torn asunder.
This is secondhand irony at worst,
one mind is set and another unaware,
ready to erupt or outburst,
to fight for a feeling which will never lie there.
Inside my head a little voice whimpers 'is it really worth it at all? '
well the doctors have seemed to believe I've become insane,
so on that note I am liable to fall,
and I could blame it all on this very brain.
let the unspoken be heard,
let the unseen be saw,
this starts out fresh and blurred,
its going to become complete from raw.
Above Myself
(3/30/12)
Sitting at home watching t. v.
When something took control of me
I felt as if I was floating on air
I had no worries, I had no cares.
I saw myself staring down at me
And asking myself: how can this be?
Then I heard a strange voice over my head saying
" you're alive - you're not dead"
There is a place that you must go
This is a place that I must show.
He took my hand and up we went
I felt as if it was heaven sent.
He showed me a country ravaged by war
And bodies were strewn all over the floor.
He showed me families living in shacks
Under terrorists attacks
He showed me children walking the streets
Looking for water and something to eat.
He showed me women being raped
And a terrorist putting it on tape.
He said: this is the point that this world has come to
And there is something that I must ask of you
" we need these voices to be heard
We need you to spread the word"
Then he took me back to where I began
For this was all part of GODS plan.
He wants all of us to do what's right
This should be our only fight.
"Now I see and understand that we must do all we can."
poem by Louis Rams
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For Vasant Kothari
Every funeral, cremation, and its rites
may have its grief; yet too,
its celebration of a life well lived;
and call out, too, self-dedication’s vow:
as the crowd of living witness
quietly leave and share their murmured words,
this vow ever calls to me: to celebrate the living:
celebrate them just as if it were
their – our - last day on earth:
celebrate and praise unstintingly;
encourage and enthuse and aid;
form their virtues in the mind and
speak them loud – as if
these whom we praise, were unaware
of their own virtues..
celebrate the living, and their life
shall celebrate the praisers in its life..
Vasant, your sweet, contained humility
hid from strangers, showed your friends,
what you were; and, who we are;
I hope your spirit (which, I’d like to think,
inspired me to the sounds beyond these words)
approves, accepts – in the eternal present tense –
these thoughts of you.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Mind Over Matter
Mind over matter
What's the matter?
It's your assumption
Be responsible for it
If the matter doesn't mind
That's because why should it?
Your mind put it there.
It only really matters to you.
Mind over matter
Mental strength
With this matter in mind
I need to work out
So I am less vulnerable
poem by Stevie Taite
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No Values / No More Lonely Nights
I hear them telling me that you're selling off the furniture
And even keep my personalized autographs
You might as well go all the way and sell your granny to the zoo
And while you're at it, may I go to my psychiatrist ?
He's making money out of making me laugh
But I don't mind , I wish that I could say the same about you
It seems to me that you've still got no values
Oh you know you're not so hot, no values
And I'll be glad if you went away again
No values . . . no values . . . no values at all
The city shark is at the dark and of the alleyway
You pays your money and you takes your choice
The artful dodger says he wants to pick a pocket or two
But you, you've taken up a place in high society
A personal friend of messrs rolls and royce
Got them all convinced that everything you say to them is true
It seems to me that you've still got no values
Oh you know you're not so hot, no values
You know you've got a lot, but no values
And I'd be glad if you went away again
No values . . . no values . . . no values at all
I like your wife's smile, I like her car
If I had your lifestyle, I wouldn't go far wrong
On the waters of life you row your boat
Into the strongest tide that you can find
On the darkest of nights we were two of a kind
We went through it all before the tide went out
And left us stranded on the shore
How was I to know
How was I to know
Well you ain't got no values
You know you think you're hot, no values
You know you've got a lot, but no values
And I'd be glad if you went away again
No values . . . no values . . . no values at all
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gadsden Rag
Hacking off heads
Killing the snake
Two sided hydra
Look what's at stake
Hacking off heads
Is the name of the game
Get your knives ready
We're circling the drain
Hacking off heads
No more eating cake
For the only good one's
A dismembered snake
poem by Patti Masterman
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The Vanished
The Vanished
It was not a forest more like a few forgotten trees
by the road, they stood close together as seeking
protection from vandals. Inside the day was dark
and I heard twigs breaking off, but saw no birds or
squirrels. Perhaps it was the spirits of the people
who had lived here but had died out as the forest
gave way to farm land and was reduced to dismal
woods of evergreens that was helpless against
agricultural progress. A way of life, beyond repair,
as a dead language that is but whisper in the wind.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Jumper
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you dont belong
Youre the first to fight
Youre way too loud
Youre the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know somethings wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
Well hes on the table and hes gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What theyre doing here
And your friends have left you
Youve been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And i, I want you to know
Everyones got to face down the demons
Maybe today
You could put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
Understand
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Can you put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
And I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Morning Dear
Mickey newbury
Were the nights any sweeter
The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing good morning dear?
Should I still feel all the sunshine
That remembering brings to mind with my thoughts of her?
Lord, we both know things could never be the way they were
Her little girl illusions
Built the wall of confusion between right and wrong
That stands between her and the dream I had cherished so long
Now faded and tattered, once all that mattered when she was here
And a mind grown accustomed to hearing good morning dear
Were the nights any sweeter
The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing good morning dear?
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream Of The Archer
Wayfaring warrior Soul - still wild
The archer stands
Arrow measured to the goal - sing of
Strong and living man
In his mind there is a vision wand'ring
Through the forest town
Telling of riches only given if through
The woods the way is found
Crying "ah! Beautiful dancers ...wake up
From your sleep!
Ahhh gentle romancers...drink of Love
So sweet!"
Treasure glowing in their eyes - Forest
Deepens dark their dream
"Keep to the pathway" he advise "the woods
Are more than they might seem"
"Heed you now the apparition bending never
Ending sounds
Call you into her mystery - are your eyes
Not sparkling now?"
Sighing "ahh! Take you no warning -
Make no foolish fight
Ahh
song performed by by Heart from Little Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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