Hurricane
For the first time in my life
I experienced a cyclonic wind.
It's very horrible
and brought the odour of death.
How mighty things blown as feathers
and the Giants shivered.
I was surprised and could not believe
the nature is so powerful.
Anyway, I am frustrated a bit
as you could not take corruption away.
After few hours everything is back to normal.
Yes, I can see the bad guys are still breathing
and do their fair trade?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Frustrated
Im frustrated cuz i cant tell if it's real
Frustrated because i don't know how you feel.
Im frustrated cuz you didnt call last night.
Frustrated because there is no trust.
Im frustrated cuz i need you night and day
Frustrated because i can't have things my way.
Im frustrated cuz you never want to hold my hand.
Frustrated because im starting to understand.
Im frustrated cuz we cant be together.
Frustrated because i'll remember you for ever.
poem by Isabel Vicuna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Met Death
I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say
His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak
So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:
“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”
And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood
“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.
And Death wasn’t phased at all,
“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.
“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?
“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.
I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.
So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day
poem by Jinny Tikanus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
They Might Be Giants
Hang on
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be rain
They might be heat
They might be frying up a stalk of wheat
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be brain
They might be washed
They might be dr. spocks back-up band
To make the merry-go-round go faster
So that everyone needs to hang on tighter
Just to keep from being thrown to the wolves
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be bald
They might be snow
They might be something else in the snow
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be fake
They might be lies
They might be big, big, fake, fake lies
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cameraman Diary
compelled he was compelled
i have never seen him like that before
what is it what gets into our heads
when we see something horrible
a horrible accident on the highway
something keeps us from driving on
something holds us
but we don't stop to help
we stop to look
by now we become part of it 24/7
it's strange now looking at things
seeing things tru a lens
a glass rose colored or shaded black
u become immune your suppose to be affected but ur not
i used to think it's just you out there the viewers
but it's not it's us aswell
the shooters we become immune to
so what ever happens around us
no matter how horrible it is
we just wind up taking it all a stride
just another day just another death
poem by Paddy Jansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pro Rege Nostro
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice again
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England: --
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease,
Were the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song of your bugles blown, England --
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wild flowers
A speck of Kalahari desert
sun baked and stretching
as far as the eye could see
where winds had blown
red-brown sand before
the air was sweet with the odour
of thousands of wild flowers.
Everywhere were different colours,
shapes and sizes
and nature had set its garden
right there in the desert of Namakwaland
and the miracle that a few showers
of rain brought
stretched out all around me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Have I Done For You
What have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:-
'Take and break us: we are yours,
'England, my own!
'Life is good, and joy runs high
'Between English earth and sky:
'Death is death; but we shall die
'To the Song on your bugles blown,
'England -
'To the stars on your bugles blown!
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cosmogony
The nature is that much powerful.
We are only dwarfs take oxygen
and give carbon dioxide to the air.
They call this life.
What else?
When breathing stopped
Earth takes us back immediately.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alone
It's what I always think
It's why I see red everynight
Alone is how I feel every minute of the day
It's etched in my skin
So deep I can't get it out
Maybe it's how I'm supposed to be
Maybe just maybe I'll live a normal life
What is normal anyway?
I used to think normal was overrated
What changed?
I grew up and now it's all makeup and boys
I used to be my own person
Not caring what people thought
But now all I care about is makeup and trying to get guys to like me
I wish I could go back to that time when I was Alone and tell my self it will all be okay soon
I will move and I'll want this feeling to go away
I don't want to feel Alone anymore
I cry everynight before I go to bed
I cut deeper and deeper everytime the blade hits my skin
When will it end?
When will I be able to say I overcame my bad childhood?
I won't be able to because I'm
ALONE
poem by Marissa Ford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Killer Of Giants
If none of us believe in war
Then can you tell me what the weapons for
Listen to me everyone
If the button is pushed
Therell be nowhere to run
Giants sleeping giants winning wars
Within their dreams
Till they wake when its too late
And in gods name blaspheme
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Marches of protest not stopping the war
Or the killer of giants
The killer of giants
Mother nature people state your case without its worth
Your seas run dry your sleepless eyes are turning red alert
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Rising so proudly it has nowhere to fall
This killer of giants
This killer of giants
Killer of giants threatens us all
Mountains of madness standing so tall
Marches of protest not stopping the war
Oh the killer of giants
Oh the killer of giants
Killer of giants
Killer of giants
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Frustrated Again
Muir-Trujillo-
Frustrated again! (4x)
Destroy my vision - mental collision. The purpose
fading - you keep me waiting
Like stuck in traffic - my thoughts go static again
Frustrated again! (4x)
Start with lying - there's no denying. My mind starts
slippin' - mentally trippin'
Your apathy - comes right back to me
Frustrated again! (4x)
(lead)
Frustrated again! (2x)
Your rationale - don't understand how. Lose
concentration - find more frustration
Learned no lesson - but you keep messin' with me
Frustrated again
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Can we cheat death
Can we cheat death?
Think of immortality granted to human being
And immense powers to act like king
The lovely world may soon witness many tyrants
Where may live only powerful and giants
This is the only weapon god has kept in armory
That makes person all the time concerned and weary
If each part is allowed to be replaced in open market
They would never allow any one to die or let
There would have been no churches or temples
Nobody could have been seen with any kind of struggle
Surely human being is not to be trusted animal anytime
As it has been proved beyond doubt with certain crimes
Things are different and not taken that lightly
Human mind is such that may not allow leading happily
It is irony of fact and must be taken on front value
We are not contended with what ever is with us by virtue
Everybody is scared of death
Only while laying the wreath
It occurs to their mind of nothingness
Some kind of gloom descends and creates aloofness
Can the death be cheated any time?
This had puzzled me occasionally on several times
When person thinks of delivering good all the times
Yes death becomes useless tool in present time
"Death is just a stop for life and it starts again"
Not at the same place but somewhere else again
No one knows what will the form of another entity?
Surely it may be the prerogative of powerful almighty
Death may frighten but not defeat us at all
If that has been taken as divinity call
Fold the hands in open and just pray
That may vapor sometimes to give way
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No more grief
It is humane to cry over split milk
Can not afford for cotton still long for silk
Exactly opposite to the God’s will
No happiness and contentment still
No dead can be brought to life
Same can happen with your dearest wife
One departed means once for all
No use of crying over it and wishing for recall
It is nature’s cycle and inevitable
Even though we may be strong and capable
So many things we can do or attain
But the past events are difficult to maintain
Many might have glorious past
The life would have been easy and spent very fast
They might have lived with colorful situation
They would have wished too for its permanent continuation
It is not easy to forget passed events
They might have passed as fast movement
No one can reel back the time
It has gone off and not remained as prime
It should not have any bearing on future
As no one is confident and very much sure
The past can be buried and present can be pushed
Careful planning for future and not to be rushed
The past is hunting you like grave wound
The is not with you or can never be found
It keeps you restless and does not allow you to rest
There will be no use shedding tears and not trying best
As the cloak can not be pushed back
So the time and fortune can not be brought back too
The lesson must be taken from it to go ahead
Certainly the uncertainty must be over and fears must be allayed
It is advised not to worry so much
Things can not be brought back as such
It is thing of past and must be treated
As by gone is by gone and purpose is defeated
It will be futile attempt to live under fallacy
You will be helpless and live under mercy
You must come out of past shock
As the time go on ticking in clock
It is natural to be alert on your part
It is normal way and no body can depart
It you cling to old things and do not forgo
There won’t be any place left to go
So try to be flexible and possibly adjust
It is very much essential and must
One should remain vigilant all the time and be careful
It is going to be very much useful
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
England, My England
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:--
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mail'd hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There 's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Was Blown Away
(layng martine, jr.)
You drove up in your pickup truck
That hot september day
Not a wisp of wind in the parking lot
But honey I was blown away
And later on that fall at the dixie mall
When I didnt know what to say
I seen hide nor hair of no dynamite
But honey I was blown away
(chorus)
Big sister said youd better watch out
I slammed the door and said
You dont know what youre talikng about
Mama said I sang when the telephone rang
And she called out honey, its ray
Like a piece of dust on a four lane road
Honey I was blown away
Im talikng bout smithereens
Just you in a pair of jeans
Now I know what crazy means
(repeat chorus)
Then on a tuesday night daddy said
Some guys on the porch with a big bouquet
You stood there with your slicked-back hair
And honey I was blown away
And when we slippe out back
Across the railroad track
And you softly touched my face
Well I never did feel a train go by
But honey I was blown away
No I vever did feel a train go by
But honey I was blown away
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Feathers!
feathers on me
again and again
first to fly and now to earth rest
enable me to get ready
and carried me through you
anywhere there are feathers
like you said!
in me in you!
a very strange and intoxicating feeling
afterwards, that you traced my body
maybe i have gasp, of some lack of air!
in high feather, full feathers
you will be writhing with ecstacy
Very pleasurable for me
I feel extremely good
you make me a path a invisible way
eagle feathers very powerful
sound bird feathers very delicate
for tight places or open places
make his sound so soft
Ah! My God! ! !
give me the name of that medicine!
Feathers on me!
Feathers on you!
poem by Mirna Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This is Life
we leave not because there are reasons
departures are silent
most of the time they do not speak like storms
they are like lovers
more like dust on the railways blown away
simply because the wind
always comes
simply because the wind exists
and winds by their nature do not stop
to blow away what is there that settles
but never
never permanently
this is life this is the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Someone Keeps Moving My Chair
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Telephone call for mr. horrible
But before he can talk to the ugliness men
Theres some horrible business left
For him to attend to
Something unpleasant has spilled on his brain
As he sponges it off they say
Is this horrible?
Is this horrible?
Its the ugliness men, mr. horrible
Were just trying to bug you
We thought that our dreadfulness
Might be a thing to annoy you with
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Would you mind if we balance this glass of milk
Where your visiting friend accidentally was killed?
Would it be okay with you if we wrote a reminder
Of things well forget to do today otherwise,
Using a green magic marker, if its alright
On the back of your head?
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Were not done with you yet mr. horrible
You have to try on these pants so the ugliness men
Can decide if theyre just as embarrassing as we think
We have to be sure about this
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Someone keeps moving my chair
Mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A cruel beast
Corruption,
A vice so loved.
The voiceless,
Suffer in its hands.
The powerful,
Feast its fruits,
Corruption,
A vice so evil.
Land,
From it emanate.
Mansions,
Like mushroom they sprout.
Cars,
Like bees they swarm.
Corruption,
A vice so evil.
Poverty,
A son to it has become,
Who,
A by-product is,
Corruption,
A vice so evil.
Mercy,
To it is rubbish,
Prosperity,
In its mind constantly dwells.
Corruption,
A vice so evil.
poem by Michael Wamalwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Air Of Delight
An air has brought delight to the soul,
The body stains a breath once it expresses.
The fortune of your sayings is strong,
Like the wind of the sea and the land.
Many have brought destruction to life,
The life that ends and breaks apart the other lives.
This truth is sudden, the life has truth
Where we sleep and learn and watch
Forming solutions inside the stomach
By eating the winter’s cold health.
The bringing of death is the fault of a nature
Too sudden and dangerous, but we fight.
The air is suddenly present with disease
As the death has been a reliable image.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!