Let’s Have War!
Let’s have war! You are unique,
Indeed, the limits are set but you even have laws,
Dictated by the environment,
Just like a chain of narrators,
Obeying creatures and phenomena.
Let’s have war! The city has become a prison,
An enormous expanse remains outside,
It is the centre of civilisation,
They cry for a new species
To replace the humane man.
The war is on, one of the executors of us,
It is the highest status, and one considers
The child and the adult in harmony
After the work is done,
When the war is over and won.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Related quotes
Fire and Ice! ! !
I got the inspiration for this poem from a quote called 'Fire and Ice.'
This world will eventually come to an end.
But will we get to choose how it does?
What would you choose?
Fire or Ice?
Fire would burn everything.
It would be a fast death.
It would wipe out the whole world.
But would it be more humane than Ice?
Ice would slowly kill every living thing; Human or Plant.
Ice would chill everything to the very centre of their core.
Ice would take a while to wipe out this civilisation.
But is this more humane than Fire?
Neither would be humane;
But what would you rather?
Fire or Ice?
poem by MaddiiAnne O'Leary

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Repentance
God has caused the souls
To ask lovely questions to other souls.
Thus, souls are called persons
And they are unique,
To be this unique is to be
Equal with men and women.
They must punish rightly,
Correct actions are necessary,
Lest folly divides the established city.
This city is made to agree,
This city of faith shall live forever,
Due to the Covenant
That all people sustain
Through the blessed city.
My city defines our laws
From laws that decide,
Laws we do not create
But what are given.
By God.
Let pens be writing
And let pens mean everything,
But nothing can we praise
Other than the Holy Book
Of our lives.
Speech is the sound
Of our communication.
We are always to be forgiven
If as people we repent.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Be a child-parent-adult
To the child, it is a day.
To the parent, it is a night.
To the adult both are inclusive.
The child lives in fantasy.
The parent lives in fallacy.
It is the adult that lives,
Where he is put, in ecstasy.
The child admires things.
The parent criticizes them.
The adult realizes them.
The child appreciates.
The parent deprecates.
The adult rationalizes.
The poet is the child in man.
The priest is the parent in man.
The logician is the adult in man.
Live a child to be youthful.
Live a parent to be awesome.
Live an adult to be credible.
27.01.2000, Kottayam
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Chain Of Fools (feat. Pointer Sisters)
Clint Black & The Pointer Sisters
Chain chain chains (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chains (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools
For four long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I'm just a link in your chain.
You got me where you want me
I ain't nothin but your fool
You treated me mean
Oh, you treated me cruel.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain of fools
Every chain
Has got a weak link
I might be weak child
Oh, but I'll give you strength.
OOh. OOh.
You told me to leave you alone
My mother said, come on home
My doctor said, take it easy
But your lovin' is much too strong
I'm added to your.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools.
--- Instrumental ---
One of these mornings
That chain is gonna break
But up until then
I'm goin'a take all I can take, oh yeah.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools, oh yeah...
--- Instrumental with oops till fade ---
song performed by by Clint Black

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nutbush City Limts
Words and music by tina turner
Theres a church house, gin house,
School house, outhouse.
On u.s. 19,
Hey, the people keep the city clean.
They call it nutbush, nutbush,
Nutbush city, nutbush city limits.
25 is the speed limit,
Motorcycles not allowed in it.
Go to town on saturday,
Go to church on sunday.
Up in ... up in ... nutbush city, nutbush city limits.
Say it again...
Work the fields on weekdays,
Have a picnic every labor day.
Go to town on a friday,
Be in church on a sunday.
Up in ... up in ... nutbush city, nutbush city limits.
Little old town,
Down in tennessee.
A real quiet community,
A real quiet southern community.
Not much happens in nutbush;
You can hear the corn grow.
Got to watch out for the police,
Drivin through nutbush.
Got to watch out for the police,
If youre drivin through nutbush.
Watch out for the police,
Watch out for the police.
Keep an eye out for the police,
Keep an eye out for the police.
An eye out for the police.
Nutbush city limits,
Nutbush city limits,
Nutbush city limits.
song performed by by Bob Seger

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teddy Wilson, I think, said a little while ago that it's much easier to come in and play whatever comes into your mind, without obeying any of the laws of bass line and harmony and so on.
quote by George Shearing

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Limits
You’re like wildwood at the edge of a city.
And I’m the city: steam, sirens, a jumble
of lit and unlit windows in the night.
You’re the land as it must have been
and will be—before me, after me.
It’s your natural openness
I want to enfold me. But then
you’d become city; or you’d hide
away your wildness to save it.
So I stay within limits—city limits,
heart limits. Although, under everything,
I have felt unlimited earth. Unlimited you.
poem by by unknown author

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Filmmakers who use narrators pay a price for taking the easy way: narrated films date far more quickly than films without narrators.
quote by Bruce Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While Taliban fighters had an initial claim to protection under the conventions, they lost POW status by failing to obey the standards of conduct for legal combatants: wearing uniforms, a responsible command structure, and obeying the laws of war.
The Man Who Climbs The Highest Pole Of The Bridge...
at the highest bridge on the city of
Cebu a man in his twenties
climbs the pole and sits there overlooking
the city
the City is in panic
for he must be saved
his name is taken: Juan
Molina,32 years old,
a thief, jobless, and without
any known relatives
and he is so hungry
and it is so hot at the top
and he is coming down
if there is something to
eat
they thought he is going to jump
and kill himself
which is not the fact of the case
he simply wants to see
the whole damned city
of leaders who cannot understand
that he too needs work
to have money to buy something to
eat to pay for the rent of his boarding space,
his bills, and his toothpaste
and soap
all the while the city is angry
this man must be sent to prison
we are so disturbed
and he creates the massive
confusion
sad, sad city.
suicidal masses
luxurious lifestyles of the rich and
the famous elite
most of the poor and the
lost do not ask anymore where is God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I must mend the ways of my mind. This is a very big place, and I do not know how it works. I am a member of a fragile species, still new to the earth, the youngest creatures of any scale, here only a few moments as evolutionary time is measured, a juvenile species, a child of a species. We are only tentatively set in place, error prone, at risk of fumbling, in real danger at the moment of leaving behind only a thin layer of of our fossils, radioactive at that.
quote by Lewis Thomas

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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An adult is still a child
A child imitates its mother with air.
An adult imitates models to seem fair.
A child imagines a child in a doll
And enjoys tending it with fantasy.
An adult imagines some ones in his
And experience bliss in fantasy.
A child fears and pretends ignorance.
An adult dreads and pretends innocence.
Though old, still a child, I amuse myself
Though wise, still a child, I fool myself.
12.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Baby vs Adult
Baby is dumb
Adult has wisdom
Babies are small and crawl
Adults are tall and fall
Baby demands
Adult commands
Baby yearns to walk
Adult learns to work
Baby weeps
Adult sleeps
You carry a baby
You marry an adult
Baby chokes
Adult smokes
Baby stays at home to play
Adult brings home the pay
Baby cries
Adult sighs
Baby spikes milk
Adults like silk
And I saved this for the last
Baby at birth
Adult at death
Baby vs Adult becomes a thing of the past
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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Gender determination
‘Is this a man or a woman? ’
asked a child the other,
pointing to a nude picture.
‘How can I, no dress? ’
answered the other child.
‘Is this a male or a female? ’
asked an adult the other,
pointing to a clothed child.
‘How can I, it’s dressed.”
Answered the other adult.
Child decides by clothes.
Adult confirms without cloth
01.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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God As A Super Computer
God is a super computer in which there are two folders,
Vile and humane,
.……………………. Vile ………………….
All the unfair work you do,
All the crimes you do,
All the injustice work you do,
…………………….. Humane ………………...
All the fair work you do,
All the social services you do,
All the justifiable work you do.
All the files of vile are converted to a new file called hard, sorrow and obstacles.
All the files of humane are
Converted to a new file called
Smooth, happiness and
Good living.
poem by Ram Kausik

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Song Of Being A Child
When the child was a child
It walked with arms hanging
Wanted the stream to be a river and the river a torrent
And this puddle, the sea
When the child was a child, it didnt know
It was a child
Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one
Saw the horizon without trying to reach it
Couldnt rush itself and think on command
Was often terribly bored
And couldnt wait
Passed up greeting the moments
And prayed only with its lips
When the child was a child
It didnt have an opinion about a thing
Had no habits
Often sat crossed-legged, took off running
Had a cow lick in its hair
And didnt put on a face when photographed
When the child was a child
It was the time of the following questions
Why am I me and why not you
Why am I here and why not there
Why did time begin and where does space end
Isnt what I see and hear and smell
Just the appearance of the world in front of the world
Isnt life under the sun just a dream
Does evil actually exist in people
Who really are evil
Why cant it be that I who am
Wasnt before I was
And that sometime i, the i, I am
No longer will be the i, I am
When the child was a child
It gagged on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding
And on steamed cauliflower
And now eats all of it and not just because it has to
When the child was a child
It woke up once in a strange bed
And now time and time again
Many people seem beautiful to it
And now not so many and now only if its lucky
It had a precise picture of paradise
And now can only vaguely conceive of it at best
It couldnt imagine nothingness
And today shudders in the face of it
Go for the ball
Which today rolls between its legs
With its Im here it came
Into the house which now is empty
When the child was a child
It played with enthusiasm
And now only with such former concentration
Where its work is concerned
When the game, task, activity, subject happens to be its work
When the child was a child
It was enough to live on apples and bread. and its still that way
When the child was a child berries fell
Only like berries into its hand. and still do
The fresh walnuts made its tongue raw. and still do
Atop each mountain it craved
Yet a higher mountain. and in each city it craved
Yet a bigger city. and still does
Reach for the cherries in the treetop
As elated as it still is today
Was shy in front of strangers. and still is
It waited for the first snow. and still waits that way
When the child was a child
It waited restlessly each day for the return of the loved one
And still waits that way
When the child was a child
It hurled a stick like a lance into a tree
And its still quivering there today
The child, the child was a child
Was a child, was a child, was a child, was a child
Child, child, child
When the child, when the child, when the child
When the child, when the child
The child, child, child, child, child
(added words by van morrison)
And on and on and on and on, etc. and onward
With a sense of wonder
Upon the highest hill. upon the highest hill
When the child was a child
Are you there
Shassas, shassas
Up on a highest hill
When the child was a child, was a child, was a child
Was a child, was a child, was a child, etc.
(fade to end)
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nutbush City Limit
A CHURCH HOUSE GIN HOUSE
A SCHOOL HOUSE OUT HOUSE
ON HIGHWAY NUMBER NINETEEN
THE PEOPLE KEEP THE CITY CLEAN
THEY CALL IT
NUTBUSH OH NUTBUSH
CALL IT NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS
TWENTY-FIVE WAS THE SPEED LIMIT
MOTORCYCLE NOT ALLOWED IN IT
YOU GO TO THE STORE ON FRIDAY
YOU GO TO CHURCH ON SUNDAY
THEY CALL IT
NUTBUSH OH NUTBUSH
CALL IT NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS
YOU GO TO THE FIELDS ON WEEKDAYS
AND HAVE A PICNIC ON LABOR DAY
YOU GO TO TOWN ON SATURDAY
BUT GO TO THE CHURCH EV'RY SUNDAY
THEY CALL IT
NUTBUSH OH NUTBUSH
CALL IT NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS
NO WHISKEY FOR SALE
YOU CAN'T COP NO BAIL
SALT PORK AND MOLASSES
IS ALL YOU GET IN JAIL
THEY CALL IT
NUTBUSH OH NUTBUSH
CALL IT NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS
LITTLE OLD TOWN IN TENNESSEE
THAT'S CALLED A QUIET LITTLE OLD
COMMUNITY
A ONE-HORSE TOWN YOU HAVE TO
WATCH
WHAT YOU'RE PUTTIN' DOWN IN OLD
NUTBUSH
THEY CALL IT
NUTBUSH OH NUTBUSH
CALL IT NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS
song performed by by Tina Turner

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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São Paulo
São Paulo
The city that I was born in
I never liked you since I was a child
São Paulo
Now that I am grown up I still don't like you either
I don't feel safe being in the streets in São Paulo
To me São Paulo is very ugly in real life
It is only beautiful in the postcards
There is no in between
Either you are rich or poor
There are too many contrasts
São Paulo
A city that never sleeps
São Paulo
I am glad that you don't have snow
One thing that is great in São Paulo is summer, the hot weather
I would go insane if I lived in here forever
For me it is like a prison
Because it is too dangerous to walk on the streets
It is a very depressing city
São Paulo
It is a real cement city
Buildings and more buildings
Hardly any green
It is an old city
450 years old
For me São Paulo
Is like a prison cell
poem by Aldo Kraas

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2010/05/16 Outlawed
Psychologically preparing for returning to
work tomorrow, making lists, Production
Sheet of everything I did during the month
Month Sheet for everything we ALL did
during the month
Work-On-Hand, a list of work to be done by
me in the coming week, another list of work
to be done by the whole Section during the
coming week, sheet upon sheet, a list of
lists to be listed
By the time we are finished listing I will have
done so much soul-searching, seeking out
shortcomings in my conscience, I shall know
I am a criminal, guilty for being born, even more
guilty for living on
Guilty for breathing and dreaming of a better world
where freedom and joy, love and acceptance abound
guilty for being a flawed human being who should be
kept in the straightjacket of legislation, laws and
regulations - guilty for being
A specimen of the species homo erectus - bureaucracy
has been designed to strangle all humanity out of me -
but I learnt to love breathing because breathing
has been outlawed...
*
Let’s kill the world, let’s all die out, it’s my highest dream
to become extinct, let’s kill the world, let’s all die out,
my highest vision is one of extinction...
poem by Margaret Alice

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A fair question could be posed in this fashion: If people are not obeying existing laws, what makes us think they would obey any new laws?
quote by J.D. Hayworth

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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