Prolonging Life
Those who prolong their life are in error,
They describe a language of their own,
They err in the ways of tigers and big cats,
Surely the shrewdest are them.
They see forces unseen, to know is to be expert,
As this concoction resounds the degree of help.
The desire to live on sings on and mutters
To itself from the mouth onwards,
Throats consider their prize, when do they?
Then drag a morsel through the pipe that can consume,
It is called my oesophagus, and yours too.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Intangible Tigers
There's a moral in this: tho' I own that the preaching
Of moral and maxim in season and out
Grows stale; yet these days of depressions far-reaching
Demand any means to put worry to rout.
So in that menagerie now populated
By home-coming chickens and wolves upon mats
Consider, when finally doubt's dissipated
How often our tigers turn out to be cats.
Three-fourths of our troubles some Frenchman has told us,
But seldom occur. Tho' the ills of the mind
Loom forth as fierce tigers while doubts yet unfold us,
They turn into cats once we've put them behind.
How often the dread of some darkened tomorrow
Has ruined today; till, at Time's urgent call,
Tomorrow's false fears become yester's small sorrow
Innocuous cats, and not tigers at all.
So, here is the moral - just take it or leave it.
It doesn't much matter, you'll scorn it, no doubt.
Yet here is a truth and, if men don't receive it
I've still done my duty in pointing it out.
False troubles, false tigers engender false fearing;
So use the grey matter close under your hat
And, as you fare forth thro' life's dark forests peering,
Go armed against tigers - but still expect cats.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Young World
Youth causes complaints in unexpected ways,
Lulling the pain can creep on the brain so quick;
Western people drag and kick, geese are they?
No, their life is complete in the knowledge of religion.
Their living is of the East, the West, the South, and the North,
The world collapses in front of them and behind them,
Yet bombs fly to describe the laughter of beings,
The being is upon us called God.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catnap
The tiger looked with expert eyes,
Content to see for miles...
And in his own eyes he was wise,
His black heart full of wiles...
There was no doubt within his mind,
This was the time to choose...
A better time he wouldn't find
For him to have a snooze...
He stretched his awesome long legs out,
Then curled up in a ball...
Quite sure there was no-one about,
His catnap came to call...
His eyelids drooped, like weary tails,
Their blackness dead ahead...
And nothing short of fearsome gales
Could open them instead...
Deep breaths and he was on his way,
To where all tigers go,
When big cats' dreams they must obey
And this each one must know...
His whiskers flopped like withered strings,
No longer tight and taut...
So much for tigers thought as kings,
If by his dreams, he's caught...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Catnap'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Cats Eye Resurrection
Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Eye
Cats ~ cats ~ cats
Splashing on my walls ~ my walls
In the field the bodies are tied
To the their crosses hair hanging down
The blood is rolling down their
Arms to the waiting dogs
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Doctors
Bad ~ bad ~ bad
Counting the meat on the tables
In the field the bodies are tied to the
Altar the popes mule sings a song of
Freedom from his majesty-the pope
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Butchers
Nazi ~ nazi ~ nazi
Waving their tongues in the air
Cats-cats-cats-bad-bad-bad-cats eye
Resurrection
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Haven
Even white tigers have to bathe
Though they're as white as snow,
That's why an hour they will save
For streams that overflow...
On winsome days, when winds are calm
And sunlight shines above,
White tigers will not hunt or harm
While their hearts beat with love...
The waters let white tigers chill
Like little lambs at play..
A haven here that can instill
A reason to delay...
Life isn't always running round
So frantic in the sun,
Sometimes the simple things astound,
When nothing much gets done.
This was that time, when time relaxed,
When tiny sounds were heard...
When muscles were no longer taxed
And all white tigers purred...
Who knows how long these cats survive?
This century? No more?
Be glad today that they're alive...
For no-one can be sure...
Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'White Haven'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Are You Just Saved?
Just saved or have you been converted, while in a world so perverted?
With heart and mind transformed, no longer desirous to be conformed.
Do you have a truly repentant heart, to desire from old ways to depart?
To now walk in ways that Glorify, The Lord above, Who reigns on High.
Being bought with a precious price, will you not for the Savior sacrifice,
The old way of life or earthly desire, for a purpose that is much higher?
Don’t all Christians own their life, to the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?
And friend, isn’t only reasonable, to give of your life not some, but all?
For we were dead in trespass and sin, before we found new life in Him,
With no hope beyond this earth, then we received from God, New Birth,
Now we have real Hope and a new destiny, which takes us into Eternity,
Through an eternal life with our God, that goes beyond this earthly sod.
If Christ came down here to serve, what is it, which we haven’t learned?
And if our God gave us His Only Son, why aren’t we in the race to run?
That race set before every one of us, by God’s Son, in whom we trust,
To run as though to get that prize, while upon our Lord we fix our eyes.
It all begins as Believers repent, to follow The Spirit, which Christ sent,
To turn away from old sinful ways, and live for Glory and God’s praise.
Not for praise from men down here, but to live for God in reverent fear,
Knowing that when this life is past, only what’s done for Christ will last.
(Copyright ©12/2008)
Menacing
White tigers roam where Man permits,
Endangered even now...
That's why they have to use their wits
Before their final bow...
Extinction's waiting in the wings,
Another cat to claim!
While Man's still doing shameful things,
This world can't stay the same.
As time moves on, the cats die out...
And yet Man doesn't care!
He's menacing without a doubt,
He's this world's worst nightmare!
The tigers look like pussycats
When they're compared to him...
He treats all life like welcome mats,
Whenever he acts dim...
A hundred years will soon pass by...
Survivors, who can say?
For now... look in the tiger's eye...
Today's the day to pray...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Menacing'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Error
this is not an ordinary error that one corrects
like a grammatical mistake
that with a slight stroke of the pen
everything becomes correct
and acceptable
this is repeated error
one knows it is an error but one does not correct it
it plunges and pushes and pulls
back to the same error again
something delicious
so sweet to the tongue
the mouth salivates
and the heart pounces upon
a thousand breathings
this is the error that one always looks forward to see
one evening and another
in a room the two of you sharing it
you kneel and pray and soar to heights
without so many words wasted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tradition
Already an ancient tradition,
Wisdom travels further than saliva;
To digest is to consume and understand
Meeting the sky and being among clouds.
The language is simple, relaxed and expert,
The wisdom is among the heads of the state,
Beheading is against us, when there is comprehension.
Stick in hand, a woodcutter has woven a plot,
The axes have produced a fine example of objects.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Darkly...As Thru A Cat's Eyes
If you could see what it tis, that cats can see
It would amaze, perplex and astound you
For they can see, most easily
The sights and worlds that swirl around you
Seen by you as a half glimpsed shadow…
A furtive movement from the corner of one’s eye
Unseen by you, behind that sly shadow
Is where the other worlds lie
Cats legs will stiffen, hair stand on end
Wide eyes staring into dark, empty space
At seemingly nothing… but I tell you my friend
They see things and know of, a strange eerie place
The things that we sense, yet elude our meager vision
The things that rustle about and go bump in the night
This is simply the world that exists hard close to ours
Quite real to cats, and to us unseen, out of sight
The frightened manner in which cats react and stare
Could be good reason that we’re not allowed to be…
Endowed with their perception, of what it tis they’re aware
Of the worlds swirling about us…worlds, only cats can see
poem by David Whalen
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Degree In Life
There are some people
both old and young.
They’ve done something once
and the next minute they know all about it.
They say they have degrees in this and that.
In the biggest degree of them all
they have all fallen flat.
With the degree of life,
you first have to live it,
before you can get awarded that.
You have to suffer all
the indignations and pains
that there are there,
all the joys and the happiness,
triumphs can share.
You have to look into
the darkest soul
and know what goes on in there.
As for those who say they know it all,
those are the ones who have just stopped wetting the bed.
You’ll never have that degree
until you start living
and stop saying the world loves me.
Some say I’ve taken drugs.
What the hell has that got to do with it.
It only goes to show one thing,
how weak minded you are.
It isn’t a mark on the degree of life.
A degree of life measures
how strong you are in mind
and not how many
hallucinations you’ve had in your head.
14 December 2007
poem by David Harris
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Crazy But Happy.....
how come that we save money
like it is a morsel that we even refuse
to feed the dogs and the cats?
how come that we spend the same
in a night like it were raining dogs and cats?
crazy? yes, crazy, but
happy.
period.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Music Sings Within Me
Music speaks my language
what ever mood im in
passion
or sadness
music sings within
music calms my troubles
shows ever possible ending
with lyrics to different songs
music sings within
music shows me friendship
like happiness
and to never leave my side
music sings within
music sings within me
it speaks my language
calms my troubles
shows me friendship
music sings within
theres not one song that represents me
or my oh but unique life
theres not one song
thats dark enough
for those silly little fights
but bright enough for when i see you
not one song shows
how i feel when
i write along my arms
or when i lay currled up in a ball on a cold winters day
music sings within me
diffrent lyrics for everyday
this is the song of my life
i choose when to press
stop, pause, or play.
poem by Katie Norton
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What A Journey
What a journey this has been
This journey that leads me to you
It has been full of twists and turns
And has lead me to the purest prize
That, my dear, is you
Oh what a prize it is to have
You, a beautiful goddess from heaven
Surely it is the grandest prize of all
Surely it is worth more than gold
Worth more than anything
This journey thankfully
Has brought me to you
It has been worth every second pain
Only if you accept my love for you
And let this journey take us away
To a life of love so pure
Oh what a journey that would be
If we were in love
Together and made a journey of our own
poem by Alex Fischer
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Jungle Trail
The treacherous tiger tip-toed
Towards the jungle trail...
Obedient to the tigers' code,
He knew he must not fail.
White tigers like to do their best,
As if they were like kings!
Let other creatures stare impressed!
Pathetic underlings!
That's why he walked as if on air,
As if the world were his.
So nonchalant, so debonair -
What more to life than this?
Yet hunger tamed his thoughts for now,
He dined on humble pie...
What future would the Fates allow?
What victim would pass by?
He licked his lips, expectantly!
He sensed new prey was near...
He crouched down low, so none could see,
Then everything was clear!
He pounced like lightning! Head to tail...
A nightmare not a dream!
Triumphant on his jungle trail...
Expert, yet so extreme...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Trail'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Serepta Mason
My life's blossom might have bloomed on all sides
Save for a bitter wind which stunted my petals
On the side of me which you in the village could see.
From the dust I lift a voice of protest:
My flowering side you never saw!
Ye living ones, ye are fools indeed
Who do not know the ways of the wind
And the unseen forces
That govern the processes of life.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Drag Me Down
There's a reason why the words got
hard for me to bare
Because within them was the promise of
a life that just wasn't there
You're not my friend and I have no doubt
That I finally figured it out
You're trying to drag me down (x4)
Was it hate or was it hurt
that led you to be this way
Did you want it all for nothing
Did you think that would be OK
I did everything I could for you
Still you wanna run me through
(Chorus)
I did everything I could for you
Still you wanna run me through
You're trying to drag me down (x4)
You're gonna drag me down
You're trying to drag me down
You're gonna drag me down
You're trying to drag me down
song performed by by Tonic from Sugar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Want To Do To Perfect An Art
this is the secret
passed from one mouth
to another
about the greatness of this
art
first is to want
then to do
and then to do this
and that over and over again
because you want it
and you want to do it
and so
this is the greatness of this art
to want, to do, to perfect
the art of fitting words
like pipe to pipe
where water runs
to quench the thirsty mouth
out there
you and i,
art and fidelity
technique on
the opaque
optics of options
wordiness and worthiness
you and i
love and devotion
sun to day
moon to night
hand to mouth
eyes and lips
body and soul
the soundness
and the soundless
bursting of my
emotions, tonight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It’s called the inner city
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Thin walls no privacy
Big yard, living in close proximity
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Adults sit around
Getting shot and maim
Children run around
Oblivious
Playing their games
In the filth that flows untamed
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
How hard I try not to run with the pack
But against me the cards were stack
They need protection they need someone
But you can’t protect them with empty hand
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
Poverty, amidst luxury
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Political connections, fearless and strong
Dispensing justice with an even hand
Truth be told, I am a ladies’ man
So naturally they call me the “Don”
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city, no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Now on death row
Soon, I’ll go
I am guilty?
No one will know
The script is written and sing like a song
They used, refused and then they kill the “Don”
In the inner city
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
poem by Ikhalfani Solan
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