Worthily
A demand for life is really worthy,
Worthier opponents to the craze admit defeat.
My liking for food is tremendous, forming goodness,
Oil and petrol realises our youth, like young animals.
Fuel is bitter to the taste from the tongue, and the wolf
Shall retreat with the relish of it.
A car is a stationary object of alarm,
Immediate aid is needed for the people who
Are beset by grief, and so the process continues.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Process continues
All the eggs don’t hatch.
All the seeds don’t burst.
All the loves don’t spark.
Yet the process continues.
All the chicks don’t live.
All the sprouts don’t grow.
All the loves don’t bloom.
But the process continues.
Pest takes toll of the siblings.
Drought takes the toll of the seedlings.
Fate stalls many loves in making.
Still the process continues.
The process spurts the hope.
The process spurs the heart.
The process thrills the senses.
Evolution, thus, continues.
03.10.2000, Pkmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man In The Middle
Like an inventor
He is a symbol of a new age
He glides above the realms
Of you and me
He flows through your life
And makes you feel quite small
You may sit up in your chair
He doesnt care at all
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
His gowns come from paris
Occasionally from rome
He can go anywhere
Say back to his home
He flows through your life
And makes you feel quite small
Flashing to the white collars
Ha, he doesnt care at all
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Please...
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Please...
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eat the Food
Taste the food of thought and stay awhile,
To inhibit the dining process and then defile
The folder of youth as though you contrive
The reader of youth to say his archive.
poem by Naveed Akram
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What Makes You A Petrol
u r a petrol
know what for
ur turning the car
when you drive on the roo road
dont need water
to satrt up
being the petrol ur
is ennn enuf
everyone else on the road can see it
everyone else but you
petrol u start up my car
like nothing else
the way that you smeel in the air
gets me over dizzy
but when you leak on the ground
it aint hard to tell
you dont know that your a petrol
woh woahh
thats what makes you a petrol
if only you smelled what i can smell
youll understand
why i hate you desperatly
right now im selling
in ur petrol tank
and i cnt belive
u dun knw ur a petrol
poem by Raabia Tabassum
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Had Surgery
The small throat, the larger stomach, all this concern
With the wrong certain structure so made of me.
The surgeon has a guile, a patience too dear, but I
Am patient, a patient of well-being so well cooked.
The small throat has been enlarged and the stomach enticed
To cook me the food of luxury, the plastic relish of society.
This religion I follow of a surgeon in surgery shall last
For a life-time, forming more years onto my life tonight.
A doctor is blessed for the guilt he does not own,
A doctor planned me a retreat from life, and the time.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Wolf and The Moon
The Wolf and The Moon
By Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
The day is past and the Moon now rises from beneath the mountain to greet the stars.
The Moon smiles on the sleeping towns, their drone wound down. However, in the
forest, Life is still flowing full speed. The Owl fly’s his “day” begun, “Who, Halloo
Moon! ” “Hello to you Owl.” The Moon spins on his way. He makes many more
greetings to the animals of the forest. He starts to grow weary, and makes ready to bed
down for the day when the Wolf came to visit and talk as the animals and Moon talk,
“My good friend Wolf! How are you? ” Wolf jumps playfully to and fro, “I am glad
Wolf that it has been good for you! It is almost time for the Sun to come up now, I
have to go home.” The Wolf whimpered and followed the Moon. When the Moon was
almost home he turned to the Wolf and asked, “Why do you follow me? ” the Wolf
jumped and landed in the Moons hands and curled up with a tremendous sigh. “No
Wolf you cannot come with me, not yet, but now that I know you love me we will be
together in spirit, and someday you will be able to come with me to my home to live.”
For years, the Wolf ran with the Moon at night, and then they would part ways at
dawn. One day while the sun was shining brightly the Wolf, now old to earthly eyes,
faded to a wisp of mist from mortal sight, on the night of the New Moon. You could
see, that night, a cloud in his shape running before the Moon, and as the Moon grew
fuller you could see on the face of the Moon a shape like that old Wolf, you could see a
promise kept. The Moon and Wolf were friends, one entity forever.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Animals
I know what I need I need you
I cant see nothin else all I can see is you
I dont care what they say about my state of mind
I know whats good for me and you are just my kind
We are animals we are animals we are animals we are animals
I know what I want I want you
Shed your cloths forget your codes
You know this is nothing new
I smell your scent I taste your sweat
I feel this passion too
Lets trust our senses not our minds
Lets break all the rules
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
Come with me run with me leave this world behind
Come to me come with me I know that we will find
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
(m.charlton)
Copyright 1989 elgin music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old And Young
Devour the old and young,
Investigate the obstacles indeed;
Let life be gorgeous as pies,
The food we offer is the food of youth.
Slippery roads to eternity are small
And slippery due to life,
May the old aged people be staff
For the young and strong.
Oppose them as they stand
With each other, with their danger.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Taste Or Life?
They say honey is sweeter than wine;
Many say kiss is sweeter than wine!
Some are fond of sweet taste in all;
Many like hot taste in food we eat ever.
Taste is just a flavour of coffee we take;
Tasteless food nobody likes at first ever;
But food for living life cannot be ignored.
Sugar coated pill makes us take medicine;
Just like that taste makes food delicious!
Taste various from person to person ever;
Hence one man's food is another's poison!
So also taste for poetry, novel and articles
Say about one's mind, heart and soul ever;
More than taste food for living is fine ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Yesterday When I Was Young
(charles aznavour / herbert kretzmer)
Spoken : somehow, it seems the love I knew was always the most destructive kind
Yesterday when I was young
The taste of life was sweet
As rain upon my tongue
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game
The way the evening breeze
May tease the candle flame
The thousand dreams I dreamed
The splendid things I planned
I always built to last on weak and shifting sand
I lived by night and shunned the naked light of day
And only now I see how the time ran away
Yesterday when I was young
So many lovely songs were waiting to be sung
So many wild pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain my eyes refused to see
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out
I never stopped to think what life was all about
And every conversation that I can now recall
Concerned itself with me and nothing else at all
The game of love I played with arrogance and pride
And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died
The friends I made all somehow seemed to slip away
And only now Im left alone to end the play, yeah
Oh, yesterday when I was young
So many, many songs were waiting to be sung
So many wild pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain my eyes refused to see
There are so many songs in me that wont be sung
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday
When I was young
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Quest
My tears for hunger continues.
My quest for water is running short.
The joy of shelter I could only dream of,
With no shirt on my back, not even a sole of a shore on my feet.
The great quest continues.
Don't no the taste of food because I hardly have any..
Never had a recreation
Nor any form of entertainment.
All I could think of whats my next meal.
Searching the vast desert for food is brutal, days of walking with no success,
Am in pain need food
My tiny stomach hurts, my legs weak, my hands dead, I can't breathe.
My life less body is damaged.dead from hunger.....
poem by Donavan Avril
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Be Good
Be a good person
Goodness has no tribe
Goodness has no village
Goodness has no other name
Goodness thrives on any land
In the desert
Goodness is oasis
In the wilderness
Goodness is a pathway
Goodness is required anywhere
It is food to man
It nourishes the giver
And gives happiness to the receiver
Goodness is pleasant
So be good
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Youth Is Splendour
Young bore young when in small age,
Though my time coincided with my life’s battling
And my praiseworthy feat was destroyed.
Young people bitterly reject, utterly in loss
Of the world at large, their bellies ache from slaughtering
The elder lot and sharing food, this may ache.
Yet youth forbade the old, the aged, strict, loving and kind,
Having laughter and so much to despise.
We should be young who are mindful of age,
Let us love oneself as well, just when young hearts describe
Themselves in the deep world.
The youth is splendid, the older periods of life are a consequence
Of splendour.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Desire and Wish
What do I desire and wish?
Is love a scene of fight to finish?
Why so much magnetic pull?
When life is needed to live in full
I am young enough to go for relation
But I need some respect and felicitation
I don’t want it to remain one sided
As later on the interest may be collided
It hurts when no response comes
It is felt at heart and always welcome
One needs to develop only liking
Rest all story may be self speaking
I have seen people complaining about pain
Burning of desire and at the end no gain
I would love to remind of only thing
Love is not commodity to barter for something
It may cause lots of problem and hurt
The reply, sometimes, may be little curt
But yes it is hidden inside with little shyness
You must take rightly without any volt face
It is not shadowed in behavior
It has to be somebody’s endeavor
One may go in for limited extent
But chances must be taken as heavenly sent
Make full thrust with honest intent
Say you have only love and nothing else to comment
It is desire to be realized with equal zeal
The love then may look original and real
Even animals do care about their behavior
Express it without any language what they seek for
It is reciprocated with same intensity
Love has tremendous pull power and capacity
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Character of Youth
I can scarcely tell the character of youth,
Nature is young with fruit, it ripens many times;
Full of fever, young men and women define
The basis for their lives, the ones that value us.
Judgment is infinitely better when minds are sane,
You can plod for hours working miracles,
But youth shall never arrive, forming tennis and sport.
Isn’t the face so wild with glory?
Isn’t the old age with us?
What is more than youth when charity bellows?
My young trance travels to dislike the danger
Attributed to life as we perceive it,
The data corrupts on the mind, it fails.
poem by Naveed Akram
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To Seek Food
Hunger is to seek food,
Food has one eye and one ear.
The food we abstain from are the heads,
The food is caring over us, and we maintain
Our lives with the food of the day.
Liquors are taken as food,
With a brain too bright,
A table and a cook is required,
Forming my life as a whole.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Realisation
In his youth,
He was so busy
With his career
That he turned
A blind eye and
Flew past her…
Now,
Past his prime
Albeit a lot late
He realises…
She had feelings
For him and he
Had loved her.
But when
Winter sets in,
Spring blossoms
Wither and die out
So he also realises
That now, for ever
He had lost her…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Nice to be needed
It’s a requirement of life
That one must be needed
To be of use… or to be misused
Or at the least to be heeded
To serve some purpose
To fill some need
It’s the reason for our being
It’s a basic part of our creed
We must participate in life
We must contribute and strive
For if we’re not needed
Then Why should we survive?
Give of yourself,
be worthy of measure
That some worthy cause
Will provide all with pleasure
Obligate yourself to …
the welfare of others
Treat everyone
As sisters and brothers
Your life will become
As a garden well seeded
With the essence of life…
the beauty of being needed
poem by David Whalen
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Sauces In The Mouth
Satisfy us, the sauce is laid on the plate,
To sound like a train we munch on the crockery.
All of us are tame, men sweat due to food and water,
This ranch of dining musically swings with munching.
My food created the salmon in my mouth
To move in lovely rhythm with my tongue.
Its territory is tested, like all good men,
But the inner taste is subjected to the pleasures.
At the end of all this is bitter and sweet food
Being kept in batches for the stomach to design.
I have been satisfied by the ranch of food and dining,
The sauce is hot and sticky in the very district.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Gossiper
(9/15/12)
She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.
She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.
They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.
She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.
That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.
Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.
There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.
One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.
(the comical moral of this story)
: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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