Ideal Realm
My ideal realm exists in the country,
Where the insects are at play, and by day and night.
The whole authority lies with me,
Piercing the shields, existing where others do not.
Asking questions is my business to reach an idyllic setting,
Fixing new thoughts that are swallowed.
My knowing powers are not to be underestimated,
I can claim a care for the rich as well as poor.
For knowledge grows from the grass,
Farms are designed to conquer and recuperate,
Finding a new skin and clothing.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Just Beyond The Setting Sun
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a land where green leaves grow.
Just beyond the setting sun
seasons different come and go.
A warmly place
of peace and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home for you and me.
A place of no worries
where life is idyllic
to spawn generations to come,
warm in the summer sun
and cool as winter comes.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home we always wanted,
a paradise of beauty,
fulfilment and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
where our dreams come from.
There within those pastures green
lies our future destiny,
just over the horizon,
just beyond the setting sun.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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No Access To Fast Food, Branded Clothes And
The creation of nations,
that have passion,
for money and power,
is the absolute poverty.
Not having the access,
to shelter, food and clothing,
to have a healthy living.
Fifteen percent Americans,
fall under poverty line,
and they earn,
less than,
ONLY 22K American dollar,
per year.
In other parts of the world,
people live,
in appropriate poverty,
and they live on,
2 dollars a day,
six hundred dollars a year,
five people can eat,
have shelter and simple clothing,
still they are healthy.
slim and fit.
Europeans are clever,
to make the people to believe,
that they are poor,
earning only 800 Euro a month,
Which is above,
the average annual income,
of many developing nations,
where people have,
no access to any wealth and health.
All of us stay in the same earth,
but the value of properties,
and the rental acquired,
through the properties,
differ substantially.
Politicians of the poor nations,
have abysmal knowledge on economics.
To be a rich nation,
we should have values,
but these clowns are short sighted,
to look at the value,
of their own properties!
Do not say that they are poor,
because the term poor itself,
will be ashamed,
for using its credibility,
for wrong purpose.
Please do not call them poor,
when the nations are able to provide them,
the food, shelter and health care.
Find a suitable word,
and leave the poor alone,
who have no access,
to any of these comforts on their own,
and their nations,
are unable to provide them,
the access to the comfort.
Reason for writing this poem.
The feelings of the poor are the same through out the world, irrespective of the countries that they are staying, but the proper definition for poverty should be clarified before classifying the people as poor, which means the poor of one country may be considered as the rich in another country. Then what is the real meaning for poverty?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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To Seize Authority
To seize authority is to exclaim statements
Too winning and sinning on the lending people;
Their praise is fortunate from the top and cruel
Into the night, this night may conquer disappointments.
My warm friends are in this point of life
Where the influence comes from the sentence,
It coincides with pleasure, anything guidance,
Forming wounds that entail the wife.
My friendship ends with cruelty and strictures,
The authority of brotherhood is non-foolish,
Like medals and shields that accomplish,
Without the need to reply, even in pictures.
poem by Naveed Akram
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There are all kinds of sources of our knowledge; but none has authority … The fundamental mistake made by the philosophical theory of the ultimate sources of our knowledge is that it does not distinguish clearly enough between questions of origin and questions of validity.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Total Denial.
If the Messiah came again.
He would be certified insane.
Society could not possibly
allow him to preach and teach freely
I have no doubt he’d be confined
Because the powers that be would find.
That what he taught was dangerous
To every single one of us.
The rulers of the church and state
are not prepared to tolerate.
Any change to existing rules
which for years they’ve used as tools
To maintain the Status Quo
They do not want us all to know
They lack divine authority
They are not what they claim to be.
The guardians of morality
and keepers of the mystery.
They know the truth would set us free.
Of course they could not possibly.
Accept the fact that he might be
the ultimate authority.
They would decree that he must be
kept in protective custody.
No need for crucifixion.
Their method is a kinder one.
Keep him sedated constantly
which would work as effectively.
With no adverse publicity
Just dealt with bureaucratically.
We cannot say with certainty
The messiah is not presently.
Held in some institution
quite unknown to anyone.
Except perhaps the powers that be
Who act unjustly secretly.
08/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The greatness of human actions is measured by the inspiration that it brings. Blessed is he who carries within himself a God, an ideal of beauty and obeys it: an ideal of art, ideal of science, ideal of country, ideal virtues of the Gospel! These are the wellsprings of great thoughts and great actions. All reflections illuminate infinity.
quote by Louis Pasteur
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Outside My Picture Window
It has been said that there is a world outside my picture window and
Beyond the trees I see everyday and the sky, sometimes overcast and
Other days, when the sun rises early- I can see the sky and have often wondered if
There exists another world within our universe- I know that
There exists a world inside of my mind and
My pupils are the windows into which
People would look if I were to venture outward?
Beyond the sky, and beyond the sun-
Beyond that world inside my mind,
I would never know where there exists a place for me-
Last night outside of my window
I could see the stars- stars mean different things to different people as
Does the sun, the trees and this whole world outside-
The world inside my mind revolves about
The sun that shines upon my own horizon and
As for this world outside, all I can do is look- and to
See a tree, perhaps a single cloud and the grass that grows-
I have shut my mind to the people who live beyond
The trees, clouds and the grass that I can see-
That window opens to the world inside of my thoughts-
I have just shut and pulled the curtain to discourage all intruders-
I am lying by my window in total darkness now as I place my hand over my eyes,
Shutting out reality and now I can see mountains, flowering trees and
A creek flowing in which I can see my reflection and
I am running upon the grass that grows beneath my feet-
I believe I heard music playing inside the fortress of my mind-
It has been said there is a world outside and I have pulled the curtain
To the window once opened to veracity-
Darkness has never looked as beautiful as I am safe here in my solitude-
Even when the stars are shining and the sky is such a magnificent sight to see-
No place is as exquisite as the creek that runs through my inner space and
The sun inside the world of my thoughts that shines upon my horizon?
The stars are far away and all that is real, though just outside my picture window
I perceive as too far away for me to reach- I would touch the stars and I could be a dove
That can lift my wings and fly away from all that threatens, but only inside my dreams-
Children sing songs and read fairy tales and they believe and I believe that
The sun shines light upon their worlds and
Someday their dreams shall blossom as has mine and shall become their homes-
Home is the safe place inside a person's mind, not within the madding crowd that
Exists outside my picture window- even if the stars are always there- and
That unique and special sun shall just keep on shining upon the world of my dreams….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country.
quote by William Jennings Bryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crimson Amongst The Gold
We watch the burning sky
as the setting sun warms
it just before night falls.
The crimson amongst the gold
where our dream lie
to be awoken in our hearts.
Beyond the horizon
where we always want to be.
We see the world there
as something we have not got.
The life we dream about
we know it lies there.
In the night, we reach out to touch the stars
knowing that if we touch them
all our wishes and dreams
will one day come true
in our tomorrow’s quest
down life’s road.
We keep walking to our sunset
never knowing when destiny
will take us to our dreams.
That paradise just beyond our imagination
where all things are possible
and some day will be.
10 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I shout: Ideal, Ideal, Ideal; Knowledge, Knowledge, Knowledge; Boomboom, Boomboom, Boomboom; I have recorded fairly accurately Progress, Law, Morals, and all the other magnificent qualities that various very intelligent people have discussed in so many books.
Tristan Tzara in The Dada Almanac (1920)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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A miser grows rich by seeming poor; an extravagant man grows poor by seeming rich.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Skin Game
Oh
See you, you in there dancin,
And Im in here needing questions and answers
(ha!, ha!), hey!, (ha!, ha!)
Ha!, hoo!, ha!, hoo!, ha!, hoo!, ha!
The dance is in
When theyre mine
Try to learn the rules
Dont mind showin
Equal chances (taught)
For our amuses
Not much can beat the odds
No excuses, lets play the skin game
(ha!, ha!, ha!), hoo!, (ha!, ha!, ha!), ooh!,(ha!, ha!)
Sing it!, ha!, hoo!, ha!, (sing it!), sing it!, ha!, hoo!, (your choice), ha!
You say your set
So lets get started
Try to be the best
But dont be that smart
You know what your brother gets
No need to complain
Just figure out, that theres a way to play,
To play the skin game
Chorus:
The skin game is still around, sing it!,
But you cant keep a good man down
(play the skin game)
(ha!, ha!, ha!), hoo!, ha!, (ha!, ha!), hoo!, (ha!, ha!) ha!, ( ha!), hoo!
Repeat chorus
Cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant
Keep a good man down
And Im in here needing questions and answers
(ha!)
Hoo!
Repeat chorus
(and Im in here needing questions and answers)
Outside lookin in, in, in
The door is open, but you cant get in
Somethings in the way
Its a skin game (oh, just a skin game)
Just a skin game
Lets play the skin game (game)
Hoo!, hoo!
(sing it for the people yall)
Repeat chorus
The skin game is still around, sing it!,
But you cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant, cant
Keep a good man down,
Cant, cant, cant, cant, sing it!, cant, cant, cant, cant, sing it!
Repeat chorus
Hoo!
Break it down, sing it!
Hoo!
Sing it!
(sing it for the people yall)
Sing it!
(sing it!, sing it!, sing it, sing it again!)
(sing it again, sing it again, and again, and again, and again, and again)
Repeat chorus
The skin game is still around
See you in there dancin,
And Im in here needing questions and answers
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tax
Tax is for the welfare of the masses
That’s why more tax should levied
Upon the rich than the poor
In such a manner
So that a desired balance is maintained.
There should be no filthy rich
In a poor country
So the government should impose tax
On this people couple of times more
Than the ordinary rich.
Education tax, poverty elimination tax
And tax to rehabilitate the beggars
Can be imposed on the very rich.
The government must go for moderate tax
For the poor people
And they should not slaughter the hen
That lays egg of gold.
The Muslims should give tax properly
Since it is obligatory for them
So in a Muslim country
The government should highlight this
In order to increase revenue.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Dear MR. P
dear mr. p
i'm here to tell you you don't care about your country.
You fight for injustice and cruelty.
The rich are richer and the poor stay poor. Don't you care that thousand of children don't have education.
Don't you care that people out there get killed or stolled, becouse they need money? Those are innocent people (if not pour) .
poem by Edzuro Jikibi Mirtazo Gruzto
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Here's To Gracious Endings
You'll never hear the breaking heart
I'll never hold you to the sparks
A fire that only burns in me
Was simply one, that shouldn't be
You never promised me romance
I've always known your circumstance
But in my heart, you sparked a flame
That held me to a foolish game
So many years I've been denied
A simple truth that you disguise
I've asked you, time and time again
To let me go…or let me in
Don't tell me that you want me now
Don't try to claim you care
If there ever was a moment, babe
I've not found it anywhere
Dig down deep, and let it out
You know what I'm talkin' about
Don't' keep holdin' up the lie
I see it buried in your eyes
I'm just not the girl I used to be
There's something hard inside of me
You woke me up, when you shook me down
Then left me hanging out to drown
But, the rain don't hurt me near as much
Cause it can't hurt, what it can't touch
I've locked my heart up in a cage
I've read the lines and turned the page
Don't tell me that you want me now
Don't try to claim you care
If there ever was a moment, babe
I've not found it anywhere
Seems this story had to end
So, let's not look back and claim we're friends
It's easier just to cut the ties
No more pretend, and no more lies
My heart's okay, I'll be just fine
I'll snap right back with a little time
Through it all, I've found relief
I won't be swallowed up by grief
So, here's to you, to what we've been
…And to never looking back again
Here's to life, and to new beginnings
…And too finding strength…in gracious endings
poem by Leria Hawkins
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Psalm 139 part 1
The all-seeing God.
Lord, thou hast searched and seen me through,
Thine eye commands with piercing view
My rising and my resting hours,
My heart and flesh with all their powers.
My thoughts, before they are my own,
Are to my God distinctly known;
He knows the words I mean to speak
Ere from my op'ning lips they break.
Within thy circling power I stand;
On every side I find thy hand;
Awake, asleep, at home, abroad,
I am surrounded still with God.
Amazing knowledge, vast and great!
What large extent! what lofty height!
My soul, with all the powers I boast,
Is in the boundless prospect lost.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE I.
Could I so false, so faithless prove,
To quit thy service and thy love,
Where, Lord, could I thy presence shun.
Or from thy dreadful glory run?
If up to heav'n I take my flight,
'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light
Or dive to hell, there vengeance reigns,
And Satan groans beneath thy chains.
If, mounted on a morning ray,
I fly beyond the western sea,
Thy swifter hand would first arrive,
And there arrest thy fugitive.
Or should I try to shun thy sight
Beneath the spreading veil of night,
One glance of thine, one piercing ray,
Would kindle darkness into day.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE II.
The veil of night is no disguise,
No screen from thy all-searching eyes;
Thy hand can seize thy foes as soon
Through midnight shades as blazing noon.
Midnight and noon in this agree,
Great God, they're both alike to thee;
Not death can hide what God will spy,
And hell lies naked to his eye.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 201
It’s odd how people with money claim it isn’t everything
Those who buy what they want, say its not enough to bring
Fun or laughter to your life, that having lots of cash
Is a hindrance to finding joy, something to make you crash
That wealth shields off contentment, making it hard to find
True satisfaction or a feeling of peace inside your mind
Can anyone be at ease while rich, I really do not know
But if someone wants to fund me I will definitely give it a go
Money can’t buy happiness
When all is said and done
Then again nor can poverty
But money is a lot more fun
poem by Flying Lemming
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Splendid Crown
He walks in splendour of the crowns,
Kings are dark and collected,
Around the dignified angels and archangels,
Fixing their abode on the very rich and wealthy.
One shadow escapes after another,
Stars at night repair the folly of shadows
That cascade on the deals of royalty,
Discovery of a gigantic star is in the air.
Let the pure and expensive be comforted
By the very rich and excellent,
The thought of highness scrapes them,
And blushing men and women escape.
The final night has collapsed,
Lulling the following days,
Finding a dear man who is crazy when sad
And fitting to be called a rested minister.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Silent Night, Holy Night
(After Mategna’s “Night”)
Claim this night,
The silent night, holy night of Christmas that pierces through
The noisy night, unholy night of Empire.
The night of Empire is darkness of capitalist globalization;
Its voice, the loud lies of big business, the jingles of their ads,
Fascist bombs and the shrieks of torture in prison camps.
Its night of unholiness envelops factories and slums and war-torn countries;
Denuded forests and unfriendly genetically modified farms;
Hungry children and refugees and the unemployed;
The sick and the lonely; you and me.
The silent night, holy night of Christmas breaks through the night of Empire
And births light from light for us to see:
A Mother fascinated by new-born revelation cradled in her arms;
And a donkey of burden playfully displaying its profile for the Child of promise.
The night frames hope and joy for eyes long violated by imperialist media.
The deep silence sounds the song of Word-Made-Flesh
And Woman’s heartbeat of life and love.
The night is a placard of prophetic protest and good news of future.
Enter the glow. Will it so.
Claim this night.
poem by Francisco R. Albano
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