My Chosen Image
It is my chosen image,
The world of emotions works lastingly,
Who do you see in this complete picture?
I have showed only something,
Like a plan or proposal that bites
And spends from the wallet.
Or in town, the separated forms
Shall witness pride as the watchers
Previously recall.
I helped thinking this time I was present,
One of the mapped men obstructed and abhorred
The helpers and workers of the thoughts.
A little relationship should be hoped,
Legalities are never shaken
As they rent the apartment of wisdom.
I have one hearing and sight,
I recall every single gesture of light
In this night we become with guilt.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Her Image
He stared at her picture everyday.
It was something he would always do.
It helped him to remember her lovely face
and helped him make it through
lonely nights without her
and hours that kept him blue.
He saw her image and he remembered
when the picture was taken.
They were so in love. Then she fell ill
and now his heart was achin'.
He kissed her image
and whispered goodnight.
He'd been forsaken.
Her picture was now his prize posession
for it's all he had of her.
Gone was her touch. Gone was her hair,
the strands of it still in his sight.
Gone was the sound of her voice
that always whispered in the night
'I love you.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Windward On Deck
I recall four among old friends
nautilus to cond in offward ways;
the one to stars made amends,
his mind's tide gate ablaze;
Another wavered in midday light,
forfeiting Spring's glinting details,
remote figure in relentless sight,
with a distant smile, despite ails.
A third buried his inner kindness,
when in sea-trip received a mail,
that signified his life's emptiness
to play harmonica in ocean trails.
The fourth was an enigmatic figure,
who had not spoken about his past,
confessing to his wallet picture,
under dome stars and main mast.
I recall them all, in rough weather,
windward on deck, fore or abaft,
An Ordinance doth come to bear;
as now are floating on a time raft.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Prison Song
(Your attention please. As warden Abbiss announced ealier this week, Ionia state penitentiary
Is now number one in the country among inmate education. Thirty-one percent of you have earned
Your GED and or diplomas this year alone. As promised we now present to you in concert, your
Own fellow inmate Syn. Let's keep it cool and conduct ourselves properly boys. Let's show the
Warden we can do this again sometime. Here is Syn.)
I can remember, all that she gave to me
I can remember, how much she hated me
I can remember, just what she kept from me (Bitch!)
And I remember, all that she left to me
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I can remember, the look in my brother's eyes
I can remember, whats left but another try?
I can remember, the heat in the summer time
And I remember, all that was never mine
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I'm not here tryin to make amends
Turn back time and I'd kill her again
It's what I call justifiable sin
Cock the hammer back!
And I put two in
I can remember, half her head was gone
And I remember, it was all over the lawn
Also remember, the cops were everywhere
I can remember, I didn't even care
I can recall it, when the love was gone
I can recall it, when the pain was strong
I can recall it, when her palm would flash for what seemed like all night the terror would
Last
I'm not here tryin to make amends
Turn back time an
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whipped
Is there anything that can help me let go
I’m tired of crying down this road
I’m young should I feel this old
I’m tired of being split
I’m tired of feeling whipped
I’m tired of not knowing what’s right
I’m tired of looking for this light
I’m tired of living wrong
I’m tired of crying to this repeating sad song
I’m tired of wrong feeling so right
I’m tired of fighting with all my might
I’m tired of hoping friends will be by my side
I’m tired of my feelings I hide
I’m tired of no one picking up the phone
I’m tired of being home
I’m tired of the sun
I’m tired of the moon
I’m tired of thinking what to do
I’m tired of you
All I ever think of is hope
And all I ever heard is have faith
I feel fragile like an old piece of rope
And know I did nothing but disgrace
I hoped to be a good man
I hoped to have a plan
I hoped to be the one
I hoped to have some fun
I hoped life was easer than they say
I hoped home was where I lay
I hoped I always knew right
I hoped I would always fight
I hoped me was the one you see
I hoped true love would always be
I hoped I didn’t need to rest
I hoped life meant happiness
Hope and faith are strong words
They fly away easy like birds
Does one ever know where they stand?
Its harder than I thought to be a man
I remember being young and free
I remember trying to be me
I remember when I first fell in love
I remember hearing the sound of a dove
I remember being young wishing I was old
I remember trying to live out side the mold
I remember when I would dream
I remember when it was all about me
I remember when I wanted to be where I am
I remember that meant I needed to be man
I remember when life was fun
I remember shooting out like a gun
I remember love was a rush
I remember the first time I was crushed
I remember doing and not thinking
I remember doing nothing but drinking
I remember trying to make my tears dry
I remember the feeling of telling a lie
I remember when the world was at my feet
I remember the feeling of being beat
I remember being ashamed of who I am
I remember at one time I knew where I stand
Memory is a gift or is it a curse
It showed you at your best and at your worse
Time is something that should be taken slowly
I don’t want to be old and lonely
I know not to always follow my gut
I know ill always be in this rut
I know tomorrow will come
I know yesterday is gone
I know I will run
I know I am wrong
I know ill live
I know ill die
I know not to ask why
poem by Lesten WhitePigeon
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Connected
My planet.
My temporary home.
Where I began.
Where I will end.
My human being.
It's core, battling my inner core.
For control of my mind.
Gravity, pulling my thoughts downward.
To limit my sight.
I go within.
To my core.
My energy is love.
It is written, that it will endure all.
Beyond the earth.
Beyond the universe.
I find myself, no longer torn,
But now complete.
My third eye opens in my mind.
Complete sight from what previously was unseen.
Opening the mind to the creator.
I can channel.
My thoughts now upward.
Flowing through me.
Not as thought, but as being.
Spiritual being.
No longer feeling separated.
But connected.
Connected to everything.
No longer chained, but free to explore.
I am enlightened.
Gravity has lost.
Love has won.
Looking down, I see my bottom.
Looking up, I see my eternity.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Eighth of May
Of windy spaces ancestry, form resurrected
in colors of that prime spring, response kind to me
because of me, adoring feast, befell, you felt it
of islands shore foam whiffs, Olympian offspring.
First I was, a celebration visitor, my vows redeemed
glances that searched for you, of our oceans offer
I stayed there, crowned of hymns, blue roses breed
as you descended, of dreams wind, another present.
A distribution of windy forms, upon my souls nod
a visitor of solitude, deities, Eighth of May reign
to be a companion of dew drops, of mornings mode
to see you as my falling drops, of a colossal rain.
Rain drops convene for me, embrace this proposal
your hands upon your facial, for me they wander,
when you recall all of this dusk, our line coastal
for every May of the eighths, your staring to offer.
May you face me of else, the eighth of my winds
days that stayed there for you, along with my heart,
there you lived of words sanctuary, along a start,
that May you will always feel, your stare is of mead.
My gaze returns to the winds, mountain scent of dill
of prime recalled apostasy, faith of rainy oceans
abiding in my inner forms, and absent in a still
my silences recall of you retain of May emotions.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Picture.
Ihave your picture in my wallet.
But I have your kiss in the jasmine
Of the summer dusk.
I have your picture in my wallet.
But I have your eyes in the starlight.
Dancing across a frosted field.
I have your picture in my wallet.
But I have your touch on the breeze
That bends the flowers in green meadow.
I have your picture in my mind.
poem by Kevin East
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I Remember
Yes, I can recall
Yes, I do recall
The memory of...
You
Oh yes I have remembered
Sometimes I drift away
To a place
Where time does and always will
Stand still
Yes, I often do...
Think of you
I remember you
With every single one of my senses...
Strong is the smell of summer
Blooming
It swirls around me
The sensation of the sun
Warming my face
Clearly, I envision you
Smiling at me
While the sun sets dreamily
On a horizon
That doesn't seem
So far behind you
The breeze, like your touch
Carressing me
Upon my lips, I taste your kiss
Emotions rush
Remembering how
Your love would wrap itself
Around me
Safely and securely
Gently
Remembering you,
Loving me
poem by Erika Wingo
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Only Night
Workers
Are working
for factory...
Day with night...
works
Night making day
For with out sleep
Workers...
Day time also
Work...
workers life...
Not for day
Only at
Night for life...
Sun shine day's
24hour's come
And go...
Workers life...
wacke up at night....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Running All Night
I've been waiting for my lady
One hour - she finally came
She came walking by my table
And i'm thinking
What's this fox's game
To be honest, i was ready
To play that white witch's game
And i knew that she was ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
When you're running
All night with the lion
Running all night with the lion ...
I may not recall exactly
How i got her to sit down
She was sitting at my table
And i'm making out like a clown
Oh, she'll make me very happy
When she showed her fallen again
And i knew that she was ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
Rock'n'rollin' ladies
Good life to the games you can't win
We'll drink right at my table
And we'll talk till it's time to go in
This could be something heavy
If only you'd show me a sign
And something says you're ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In fact, I had previously helped train one of the FBI agents who searched my apartment.
quote by Steven Hatfill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disco Down
Ive been thinking reminiscing
bout the days when we were wishing
We could fly and touch the sky
Laughing meeting under cover
Running hiding from your mother
Lf we tried we could do anything
And when the dj came to town
People came from all around
Baby l still recall those things
And ooh, Im missing you now
Im missing you now
And you turned my world around
When you bumed this disco down
Whyd you leave to find yourself
I cant dance with no-one else
And still theres memories of this town
When you bumed this disco down
Its been ten years now this sunday
Since you left or was it monday
Time can fly when youre still in love
And now l boogie in my dreams
To le freak or dancing queen
Baby l still recall those things
And ooh, Im missing you now
Im missing you now
And you turned my world around
When you burned this disco down
Whyd you leave to find yourself
I cant dance with no-one else
And still theres memories of this town
When you burned this disco down
And oh, now the dance has died for sure
Since your love aint here no more
Still l wonder where you are
Ill always wonder where you are
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Running All Night (with The Lion)
Ive been waiting for my lady
One hour - she finally came
She came walking by my table
And Im thinking
Whats this foxs game
To be honest, I was ready
To play that white witchs game
And I knew that she was ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
When youre running
All night with the lion
Running all night with the lion ...
I may not recall exactly
How I got her to sit down
She was sitting at my table
And Im making out like a clown
Oh, shell make me very happy
When she showed her fallen again
And I knew that she was ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
Rocknrollin ladies
Good life to the games you cant win
Well drink right at my table
And well talk till its time to go in
This could be something heavy
If only youd show me a sign
And something says youre ready
To cut loose on the town and meet
Somebody new for a change
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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ODE TO A PiCtUrE
ODE To A PiCtUrE
Flash-
A Picture
One dimensional in size
Captures an
Image
A moment
in
Time-
A Picture
Works a
Miracle
And makes
Time-
Stand still-
Time-
Moves
As quickly as the
Wind
Is blocked
And made
Frozen
Constant
And
Still-
For One to
Admire a moment,
An Image which
Appears in Different
Shades of
Light…
A Picture
Brings back an
Emotion which
Pumps right through
The Heart-
A sensitive
Delicacy –
Often uncontrolled
And driven on its own
Can be ruled
And triggered
By a Flash-
A speck
Of
Light
With shattering
Colors-
Red,
Blue
And
Green…
A Picture
Not to be measured
In Space but more so
In Time
As it
Sits
Still-
Captured
In
An
Instant
Each
Image
Is
Traced
And
Held
Together
With
Shinny
Little
Sentiments…
Composed
As
Each
Expression
Is made
Visible
At the Palm
Of
One’s
Hand
Held-
Constant
Age less
Memories
Flow
Through
And
Begin to
Sing-
Of
What
Was-
Flash-
A Picture-
Whether it be
Darkness
Or
Lightness
Detections of different states of mind are seen
Emotional sensation in every bodily part
Tell truths of what has been-
A picture
Is cherished
And
Passed down the line-
To take part in the Memories
Once
Lived-
poem by Yvette Nario
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You Are So Beautiful
When I saw you
First time,
I knew from the start
that you’re right girl for me.
When I talk to you
First time,
I recall you look just like
My former girlfriend.
When I meet you
First time,
My heart just fall for you
I don’t know why.
When I dream of you,
First time,
My dream is always you,
I don’t understand why.
When I always miss you,
First time,
My mind goes crazy and lazy,
I don’t know how.
When I always think of you,
First time,
My lonely soul fall in love with you,
I wish I know how.
When I remember you,
First time,
I never fail to call you,
Every day and every night.
When I tell you,
First time,
You are so beautiful,
I really mean what I say.
You’re really a pretty girl,
Love at first sight, I recall,
I fall in love with you.
Because you’re so beautiful.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Those That I Went To School With
Some of them with the departed and the others growing old and gray
Those that I went to school with in the long gone yesterday
From the boys and girls I went to school with many years before I reached my prime
I am separated by distance and by long years of time.
Some of them live far distant from Hibernia's windswept shore
And from the Town in View of Clara hill overlooking Claramore
And some of them remained in Duhallow married and there raised their family
And some of them remained unattached single and fancy free.
Most of those I went to school with I have not seen for years
And for the past and for what has been I've shed nostalgic tears
Like every other migrant for the past forever gone
But the present is what matters and we keep on keeping on.
Of those I went to school with good memories I retain
Though most of them I realize I will never meet again
We've gone our separate ways in life but memories of them I do recall
And happy memories of what was the best memories of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Look Home
Retired thoughts enjoy their own delights,
As beauty doth in self-beholding eye ;
Man's mind a mirror is of heavenly sights,
A brief wherein all marvels summed lie,
Of fairest forms and sweetest shapes the store,
Most graceful all, yet thought may grace them more.
The mind a creature is, yet can create,
To nature's patterns adding higher skill ;
Of finest works with better could the state
If force of wit had equal power of will.
Device of man in working hath no end,
What thought can think, another thought can mend.
Man's soul of endless beauty image is,
Drawn by the work of endless skill and might ;
This skillful might gave many sparks of bliss
And, to discern this bliss, a native light ;
To frame God's image as his worths required
His might, his skill, his word and will conspired.
All that he had his image should present,
All that it should present it could afford,
To that he could afford his will was bent,
His will was followed with performing word.
Let this suffice, by this conceive the rest,
He should, he could, he would, he did, the best.
poem by Robert Southwell
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First Night
We will remember this first night forever
After all the songs fade away
And the stage fades to gray
And we will remember this first night together
Well recall the things that we said
All the foolish dreams in our head
On the night we met
Im searching your eyes
Have I seen you somewhere
Youre filling my thoughts with a strange intrigue
I rivet my glance to your every movement
I got a notion your loves in a whole different league
Tell me your name, whats your persuasion
Your first impression of this whole occasion
*and this night shall be the first night
And first nights were made for love
I can taste the action in the air tonight
Hearts are poundin as the sparks ignite
And this night shall be remembered
Long after the musics gone
And well reminisce on the things we said
And well fall in love again*
In the air I can sense a strong attraction
Emotions run wild--are we on the verge?
We got a hot-line to satisfaction
I got the answer if you got the urge
My motor is hot, Im feeling elation
You came in the night with the right temptation
( * repeat)
We will remember this first night forever
Well recall the things that we said
All the foolish dreams in our head
( * repeat)
song performed by by Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swollen (Chapter Two)
she drove across town,
past the empty warehouses,
to a quiet neighborhood down
on the poor side.
she helped him into the house,
past the foreclosure notice
on the door. there were no
lights, and it was cold.
in the little room at the back
of the house she lit a candle.
she helped him to a chair.
he heard a rustling in the corner.
she walked over and picked the baby
up and held him close.
he could see the blood crusting
on her lips in the half light,
the bruises under her eyes.
'mister, i have to feed the baby,
i dont have anything to offer you...'
they made small talk as she fed the
baby. she'd lost her job, and they'd
been evicted from her apartment. she
had no family, and nowhere to go for help.
the baby's daddy was in prison.
she was an ex-addict. had been straight
since before she was pregnant. lately,
she'd turned a couple tricks for food money.
she hoped no one knew they were staying here.
but it was just a matter of time...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Local Outsider
To the local community he is not one of their own
And apart from them in every way he has grown
He does not share their interests of work, sports, small talk, drinking and football
In fact with them in common he has nothing at all.
He works in the big town some twenty miles away
But he returns to his home in the small town every day
Single in his mid twenties in the peak of his prime
And he does feel happy at least most of the time.
A spiritual person and an artist at heart
In community meetings and projects he never takes part
He draws and sketches at night and his art readily sell
And as a hobby artist he is doing well.
He was born in the small town but it does seem sad to say
That as a local outsider he is destined to stay
Even with those he grew up with little in common he share
He is an endangered species and his type are rare.
He is not a student of sports or football
And who won last year's Grand Final he does not recall
And though his praises none of the other locals do sing
He is his own man and he does his own thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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