Mortals
Deathless ones preach new events every time they speak,
In front of everyone, always for the vicinity.
Death has conquered only those who speak ill,
Offering chastity as a substitute for this ailment
Is the best ingredient of a solution of problems,
All of the plates to eat, all the food to drink.
Chaste men and women adjust according to what they attain,
And purity shall quench the thirst of a proper person.
Deathless ones are the same as immortals,
And I have been a more than usual mortal.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Sestina #2
why
I don't care for the money
I don't care for nothing
because every feeling you had was no more that words
but they have been my food
and never filled me, you had nothing to quench my thirst
thirst
I'm tires of the repetion tell me why.
my body is dying I need food
I'm sorry I made a mistake, but I want no money
just countless words
that speakes to nothing
Nothing
my three days are up, I beg thee quench my thirst
I'm so pleased to say those words
my rhetorical question is: why?
I rather to live in the 30's than to have money
I rather live without food
fourth time I said food
Dear, it's nothing.
You shown me that before, I HATE IT, the money.
emotions are dry. and I thirst
...you moke me, why?
they are more than words
they are Words
an entity that my mind's eye use as food
something is new, again why?
i'm teary eyed. It's nothing
situation change, but I'll never dout my thirst.
You are wrong, my mind does not want money
money
it makes lame all your words
your eye is dim, you thirst.
the lines I writes can be your food
but you want nothing
I don't care. don't ask, why
I'm tired of the symobles for money, because they have no belly for food
esoteric words, impressing nothing.
And i still still thrist...why?
poem by Victoria Lee
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A cracked ground
By Ombuge Moses
Mama!
You sleep on a crack ground
Empty is the stomach
Hot is the sun
Nothing to quench the crack
The thirst is killing
Cracked is my throat
Helplessly you lay
You sleep on a crack ground
Baba!
Your cry is echoing
My ears cannot stop
My tears cool my cheeks
My face is running dry
You sleep in a crack ground
Forever never to see you again
Mama has followed you
Death has come
It’s so helpless
Who to run to
They promised food
They brought food
They promised water
They brought water
We need food
We need water
We are dying of hunger, of thirst
Who will take care of me the orphan?
Will I die before the next food come?
Will I die before the next water come?
Will I die like Baba?
Will I lay helpless to death like Mama?
Heavenly GOD
Your mercy
I cry indeed
In need
Not In want
When they saw us dying
They brought canned food
When they saw us dying
They brought bottled water
This is a customary issue, problem
Death of hunger
Thirst to death
The solution is death, for me
For you, solution- canned food, bottled water
We need a source
Give us a water source
To plant the seed
To eat from our labor
Weeding, Oh! How is it done?
Irrigating the plant
Nurturing the crop
To live to see a generation
A healthy life
An ordinary way to live
To this
Mama!
You sleep on a cracked ground
Baba!
You sleep in a cracked ground
Dead, you are gone
I your son,
Tonight, I sleep on a cracked ground
If I see tomorrow, I will bury you Mama
I will water your grave Baba
If they give me a water source
Bottled one, I will quench
The thirst that killed you Mama
Use the source to irrigate
Plant a seed, to grow food
A generation
A future
A healthy mind
Never to sleep
On,
In,
A cracked ground
God, to guide
A Kenyan, for a generation
poem by Ombuge M Moses
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I Shall Speak
I shall speak of rivers
and I shall speak of streams,
And I shall speak of how they flow
and seep into my dreams.
All the waters pure and clean
purify my thought.
I think how marvelous that I've seen
that which can't be bought.
I shall speak of hillsides
and mountains as they rise.
And I shall speak of how they look
and brighten up my eyes.
All the rises grand or small
expand just how I feel.
I think how wonderful that I've known
what no one can conceal.
I shall speak of beauty
and I shall speak of love.
And I shall speak of how they mix
and take me far above
the ordinary happenings
and events that fill my day.
I think how fortunate I have been
when my breath was taken away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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To All Who Thirst
As the deer panteth for the waterbrooks
So my soul longeth after thee
Oh my Father in Heaven
Can you hear my desperate plea?
My soul cries out to you
In a dry and thirsty land
Revive me oh Lord, quench my raging thirst
Reach down from heaven and take my feeble hand
There is a famine in my soul
And it hungers after heavens food
There's a raging thirst in my spirit
If only I could quench this thirst I would
I have tasted this food and drank from the well
Now nothing else will do
I am ruined for all of this life
Now all I want is all of you
Oh listen to my plea
Oh Christ the risen King
I need to hear your Spirit speak
I need to hear the angels sing
For I have wandered in this desert
And it has brought me too my knees
And every footprint in the desert sand
Is marked by anguished plea's
Forget me not Oh Lord my God
For I remember thee
Those moments that we spent alone
In your Holy Sanctuary
And I was robbed of all my words
In that place before your throne
I knelt and wept, and cried with joy
I knew I'd never be alone
And now your Spirit comes to me
And a heavenly angel sings
A small still voice it says to me
' I will bear you on eagle's wings'
Arise my my child and thirst no more
For I have heard your plea
Reach out and grasp my outstretched hand
It's time to come away with me
poem by Frank McEleny
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Speak
Theyve given me a mission
I dont really know the game yet
Im bent on submission
Religion is to blame
Im the new messiah
Death angel with a gun
Dangerous in my silence
Deadly to my cause
Speak to me the pain you feel
Speak the word
The word is all of us
Ive given my life to become what I am
To preach the new beginning
To make you understand
To reach some point of order
Utopia in mind, youve got to learn
To sacrifice, to leave whats now behind
Speak to me the pain you feel
Speak the word
The word is all of us
Speak the word
The word is all of us
Seven years of power
The corporation claw
The rich control the government, the media the law
To make some kind of difference
Then everyone must know
Eradicate the fascists, revolution will grow
The system we learn says were equal under law
But the streets are reality, the weak and poor will fall
Lets tip the power balance and tear down their crown
Educate the masses, well burn the white house down
Speak to me the pain you feel
Speak to me the pain you feel
Speak the word [revolution]
The word is all of us
Speak the word [revolution]
The word is all of us
Speak the word
The word is all of us
Speak the word
The word is all of us
Speak!!!
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would not like to see a person who is sober, moderate, chaste and just say that there is no God. They would speak disinterestedly at least, but such a person is not to be found.
quote by Jean de la Bruyere
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jackass
All grown up made your mother proud
hey look at me sitting on my cloud
weak
frightened little boy
meek the source of so much joy
think you lie above the rest
on your head the golden crest
preach a word we can't believe
preach a word we'd never need
speak about me
speak tell me how you feel
think you lie above the rest
on your head the golden crest
preach a word we can't believe
preach a word we'd never need
save us would you from the fire
save us would you from the liar
tired drowning man
tired drowning man
bigman
not so big
running of the mouth
is what brings you down
so pathetic convoluted
how do you get by
try to revive
try to survive
try to realize
bigman
not so big
running of the mouth
is what brings you down
speak about me
speak so I might see
you don't belong
bigman
not so big boy
big
song performed by by Ultraspank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She has great problems of her own to solve, very grim and perilous problems, and a right solution, if we can attain to it, would largely benefit mankind.
quote by Henry Cabot Lodge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegance of language may not be in the power of all of us; but simplicity and straight forwardness are. Write much as you would speak; speak as you think. If with your inferior, speak no coarser than usual; if with your superiors, no finer. Be what you say; and, within the rules of prudence, say what you are.
Women Of Color
women of color are superficial
women of color are women of wonder
women of color are those who contains the artificial heart
women of color are our mothers
women of color are special
women of color don't need to speak of themselves
it is others that speak of them
women of color have supernatural eyes
i think about them day and night
laugh at them they'll laugh as well cause
you're laughing at yourself
above the mountains their guts can surpass
across the ocean and time their stories stays
if you see one smile then you will see true happiness
poem by jude TOUSSAINT
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I Speak For Hell
Speak for Hell my dear
As I speak for Hell,
Follow my steps and lets
Quench forever our thirst.
Lets enjoy the pleasure,
As we consumate our treasure.
We are bound for Hell
As we disengage from righteousness,
The Abrahamic Religion said,
But if Hell in inevitable,
Like Religious hipocrites said,
Then what do I care for my share
As we all sit in Hell's table?
poem by Efe Benjamin
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The Same Story, The same History
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made....
why always speak of descrimination
why always speak of war
why always speak of class
why always speak of injustice
why always speak of poverty
why always speak of rebellion....
why not speak of equality
why not speak of peace
why not speak of respect
why not speak of wisdom
why not speak of production
why not speak of working together...
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Sonnet: Speak the Truth Always
Open your heart and speak the truth therein;
Let not your tongue utter its usual lies;
For bearing false witness is mortal sin,
And Hell is punishment if man so dies!
Just listen to your conscience and speak;
Your evil words will one day God’s wrath reap;
John Celes is a doctor in his peak;
And God, his Friend and Guide who loves him deep.
No man is cleverer than God you know;
His justice, honesty prevails on earth;
To these ideals as doctors, we must bow,
Until we take our earthly life’s last breath.
Just speak the truth until the very last,
And do your duty to your God steadfast.
poem by John Celes
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The Messenger-Bird
Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird!
Thou art come from the spirits' land!
Through the dark pine-grove let thy voice be heard,
And tell of the shadowy band!
We know that the bowers are green and fair
In the light of that summer shore,
And we know that the friends we have lost are there,
They are there-and they weep no more!
And we know they have quench'd their fever's thirst
From the Fountain of Youth ere now,
For there must the stream in its freshness burst,
Which none may find below!
And we know that they will not be lur'd to earth
From the land of deathless flowers,
By the feast, or the dance, or the song of mirth,
Though their hearts were once with ours;
Though they sat with us by the night-fire's blaze,
And bent with us the bow,
And heard the tales of our fathers' days,
Which are told to others now!
But tell us, thou bird of the solemn strain!
Can those who have lov'd forget?
We call-and they answer not again-
-Do they love-do they love us yet?
Doth the warrior think of his brother there,
And the father of his child?
And the chief, of those that were wont to share
His wanderings through the wild?
We call them far through the silent night,
And they speak not from cave or hill;
We know, thou bird! that their land is bright,
But say, do they love there still?
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Shut my Mouth
There are those whom wish
I would just shut my mouth.
For my words cut them to
the bone when I speak of
an abuse child. Or a person
drowning in the sea of his or
her own addiction. They real
wish I would shut my mouth when
I speak of equality for all. Also when
talk about suffrage one goes through
from AIDS, Cancer to Death. I done had my
words crumbled in thrown back in my face.
I have been given looks as if they want to shove
my words back down my throat until I choked on them.
But for all those who want me to shut my mouth I have
got three times as many who want me to speak.
So speak I will. As long as I got something to say I will speak.
And only when I don’t have anymore to say is when I will
Shut My Mouth.
For DIONY
dO NOT BE like god
who must speak in crooked lines
i am not your
loyal servant and i have less time
now to
analyze what you really want to mean
to me
speak clearly
for i am listening
do not murmur
do not eat your words like supper
lest i suffer
and do what you do not want me to do
i am far
you are 12 thousands miles away from me
she is married
and her husband is crazy
buying a gun and bullets
speak clearly now
tell me about the story of your true love
her being lonely
this Helen of Troy of Yours
and the impending game of death and pain
teach me now
how not to sow the apple of discord
the envy and sorrow
the death of morality
the crucifixion of integrity
speak clearly now
or i will be the one to end this
poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Values
Did you deceive me? Did I trust
A heart of fire to a heart of dust?
What matter? Since once the world was fair,
And you gave me the rose of the world to wear.
That was the time to live for! Flowers,
Sunshine and starshine and magic hours,
Summer about me, Heaven above,
And all seemed immortal, even Love.
Well, the mortal rose of your love was worth
The pains of death and the pains of birth;
And the thorns may be sharper than death--who knows? -
That crowd round the stem of a deathless rose.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Don't Drink
Don't drink, boys, don't!
There is nothing of happiness, pleasure, or cheer,
In brandy, in whiskey, in rum, ale, or beer.
If they cheer you when drunk, you are certain to pay
In headaches and crossness the following day.
Don't drink, boys, don't!
Boys, let it alone!
Turn your back on your deadliest enemy-Drink!
An assassin disguised; nor for one moment think,
As some rashly say, that
true
women admire
The man who can boast that he's playing with fire.
Boys, let it alone!
No, boys, don't drink!
If the habit's begun, stop now! stop to-day!
Ere the spirit of thirst leads you on and away
Into vice, shame, and drunkenness. This is the goal,
Where the spirit of thirst leads the slave of the bowl.
No, boys,
don't
drink!
Boys, touch not, nor taste!
Don't think you can stop at the social 'First Glass.'
Too many have boasted that power, alas!
And found they were slaves to this seeming good friend,
And have grown into drunkards and knaves, in the end.
Boys, touch not, nor taste!
Don't drink, boys,
Don't
!
If the loafers and idlers scoff, never heed:
True men and true women will wish you 'God-speed.'
There is nothing of purity, pleasure, or cheer
To be gotten from whiskey, wine, brandy, or beer.
Don't drink, boys,
Don't
!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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My Book
Before I drink myself to death,
God, let me finish up my Book!
At night, I fear, I fight for breath,
And wake up whiter than a spook;
And crawl off to a bistro near,
And drink until my brain is clear.
Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength
To write and write; and so I spend
Day after day, until at length
With joy and pain I'll write The End:
Then let this carcase rot; I give
The world my Book -- my Book will live.
For every line is tense with truth,
There's hope and joy on every page;
A cheer, a clarion call to Youth,
A hymn, a comforter to Age:
All's there that I was meant to be,
My part divine, the God in me.
It's of my life the golden sum;
Ah! who that reads this Book of mine,
In stormy centuries to come,
Will dream I rooted with the swine?
Behold! I give mankind my best:
What does it matter, all the rest?
It's this that makes sublime my day;
It's this that makes me struggle on.
Oh, let them mock my mortal clay,
My spirit's deathless as the dawn;
Oh, let them shudder as they look . . .
I'll be immortal in my Book.
And so beside the sullen Seine
I fight with dogs for filthy food,
Yet know that from my sin and pain
Will soar serene a Something Good;
Exultantly from shame and wrong
A Right, a Glory and a Song.
poem by Robert William Service
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