Matchstick
I was in a remote jungle and this shrewd Lumberjack
Who brought me to this matchwood factory?
These heartless machines break us into splinters.
I was happy when they put a black paste on my head and I thought it's a crown.
We brothers assorted in boxes and sent to the market.
Unfortunately this box of matches bought a drunkard.
And every five minutes he strikes us and lit a cigarette.
We all burned within a day and our ashes cursed the Lumberjack.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
How a Heartless Machine Can Feel?
No culture,
No compassion,
No one is with me when I fight for hunger,
No to understand and love,
When we are machines,
Simply machines,
Toys and puppets,
Playing with fate and destiny,
Heartless tiny creatures,
Thinking we are Lord of our own,
Where are my father and mother,
Where are my brothers,
Where are my sisters,
For this money printing machine,
Teller machine to wife and children,
Cook or servant to husband and kids,
Robot for my boss
where is my heart to feel,
When mind thinks of only deals,
Where is that
softness left?
When tyre has to roll on rough terrain,
Any time tyre may puncture or tube may rupture,
What machine can feel,
What heartless machine can feel?
How a machine produced,
In same factory, with different size and purpose,
Different shape and size,
Different manufacture date,
Machines without heart,
If heart is confined to only pump blood,
Know not,
father and mother,
How can call one another,
'Brothers and
sisters? '
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I learned the business in about two months, and then made as much as the others, and was consequently doing quite well when the factory burned down, destroying all our machines - 150 of them. This was very hard on the girls who had paid for their machines.
quote by Rose Schneiderman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As My Recovery Progresses
A little while ago
I came down to the computer
in the early morning light,
strong as a lumberjack
in a forest of redwoods,
read a few poems,
and in the shadow
of my conscious mind
felt the seeds
of something great
beginning to sprout.
Now, after answering
a little correspondence,
I already feel the need
to go back to bed,
and I'm fumbling
through these papers
on my desk
wondering how
you can misplace
a whole epic?
Oh Yes, I'm So Happy!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause i get to hear your lies
i'm so happy
surprise!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you tell lies on me
i'm so happy
see?
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you call me names
i'm so happy
i'v fame!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you break your promises
i'm so happy
i'm joyous!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you gave me some attention
i'm so happy
i'm in heaven!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause i get to be used
i'm so happy
i'm amused!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you spare me a few minutes
i'm so happy
i must be nuts!
oh yes, i'm so happy
cause you let me love you
i'm so happy
i'm through with you!
oh yes, if i was so happy
cause of you
i'll be happier
now without you!
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flea
Under a magnifying glass I observed an extraordinary flea,
it was dressed as a lumberjack, chopping down a tree.
It got into a rhythm and many trees were felled with its axe,
at dusk it’s day was over, and made it’s way down the track.
I followed it through the forest with my magnifying glass,
it came to a cottage, got out the mower and cut the grass.
When it had finished it went inside and turned on the light,
at ten the light went out and someone said, “Goodnight.”
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ashes
(lonnie wilson/chris waters/charlotte wilson)
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
I saw your face when
He waltzed in here
But those old embers
Havent burned for years
The light thats shining
In my eyes
Is for the one that
Im with tonight
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
No I dont blame you
For having some doubts
But when he left me
That fire burned out
So dont be thinking
Theres still a spark
cause he could never
Tear us apart
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
Back to top of page
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bit Of Paper
Every bit of paper
you see dancing on the floor
has a story to tell
of how it got there.
It could have been dropped
by some careless hand
or thrown away deliberately
by some litter bug.
Now that bit of paper
started its life as a tree,
standing tall and majestic
in some far off land.
It was probably the home
of some wild creature there
until a lumberjack
with no pity
came along and cut it down.
Now that bit of paper
goes dancing with the wind
until someone catches it
and throws it in the rubbish bin.
4 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Break Break Break
Break, break, break,
of my bones both left and right,
and I would that my tongue could butter
the bread, my teeth could bite!
O well for the Athlete’s foot
that knows not cramps nor corns,
O well for the shot that’s put,
that knows not crown of thorns!
O well for the hospital staff
that neither strikes nor snaps,
nor seeks not one last laugh
transfusing AIDS or craps!
Break, break, break
all epidemics soon,
lest mankind’s last mistake
prove Life is Time’s buffoon!
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eight Minutes To One
In the early hours the radio alarm
went off at eight minutes to one
despite me setting it earlier for six
and checking that it was on.
Now wide awake I rechecked the setting;
and I had definitely made no mistake.
I put it down to an electrical malfunction
and fell asleep until it was time to wake.
I didn’t think any more about the alarm
and continued with my normal day.
The alarm was already set for six o’clock
so I went to bed in the usual way.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off
exactly the same time as the previous night.
Again I checked on my alarm settings
and again everything was set right.
This time I unplugged the whole radio unit
and recalibrated the time and alarm.
I was now happy that all would be okay
and fell asleep relaxed and calm.
The following night I went to bed as usual
and slept until eight minutes to one.
The cursed radio alarm went off again,
so this radio’s days were done.
The next day I bought an electrical travel clock
and tried out the alarm there and then.
It worked like a charm and I was very pleased,
so that night I went to bed at ten.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off again
and I could hardly believe this to be true.
I was faced with a problem that had to be sorted,
and a mechanical clock should do.
I bought a large brass, twin belled wind up clock;
set the alarm and several times tried it out.
That night I retired expecting a good night’s sleep,
with no electrics to care about.
At eight minutes to one the alarm went off,
and I threw the clock against the wall.
I was now convinced something supernatural
was causing the earlier morning call.
Over the next few days I tried several clocks
and the alarms went off the same.
In the end I didn’t have a clock in the room,
and I never will again.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smoke & Ashes
Tick-tock went the watch on your wrist
Telling you softly of the minutes youve missed
Kneeling down with your head in the bowl
Telling yourself, there should never be days like this
Just when you thought that you had it down
You woke up dreaming of cocaine and clowns
Everybody knew that you sang the blues
No one could guess that you would sing them like this
Chorus
Smoke and ashes
Smoke and ashes
A comet burns and then it crashes
Smoke and ashes
You spilled the beans on friday night
Now mondays here and theres no one in sight
But, hey, thats the price that youve got to pay
For letting yourself get your own way
Chorus
song performed by by 13 Engines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uplift
On one whole bottle "uplifting!"
There is no telling what I'll do
Run head first into traffic
A mindset of annihilation
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
Your head now
Uplift - uplifting
Uplifting now
On hallucinogenic "uplift"
I can step out of my body
Religion is in myself
I'll split my head in two and see you twice
No sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought
Ahh... no sense makes sense
You can't get bought without thought inside
your head now
Uplift... uplifting
Uplifting now...
Uplifting you now...
Give me alcohol extremeties
Instead of proofless christianity
Drunked up in a coma place
Critics disgusted
song performed by by Pantera from Reinventing The Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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25 Minutes To Go
They're buildin' the gallows outside my cell.
I got 25 minutes to go.
And in 25 minutes I'll be in Hell.
I got 24 minutes to go.
Well, they give me some beans for my last meal.
23 minutes to go.
And you know... nobody asked me how I feel.
I got 22 minutes to go.
So, I wrote to the Gov'nor... the whole damned bunch.
Ahhh... 21 minutes to go.
And I call up the Mayor, and he's out to lunch.
I got 20 more minutes to go.
Well, the Sheriff says, 'Boy, I wanna watch you die'.
19 minutes to go.
I laugh in his face... and I spit in his eye.
I got 18 minutes to go.
Well...I call out to the Warden to hear my plea.
17 minute to go.
He says, 'Call me back in a week or three.
You've got 16 minutes to go.'
Well, my lawyer says he's sorry he missed my case.
Mmmm....15 minutes to go.
Yeah, well if you're so sorry, come up and take my place.
I got 14 minutes to go.
Well, now here comes the padre to save my soul
With 13 minutes to go.
And he's talkin' about burnin', but I'm so damned cold.
I got 12 more minutes to go.
Now they're testin' the trap. It chills my spine.
I got 11 minutes to go.
'Cuz the goddamned thing it works just fine.
I got 10 more minutes to go.
I'm waitin' for the pardon... gonna set me free
With 9 more minutes to go.
But this ain't the movies, so to hell with me.
I got 8 more minutes to go.
And now I'm climbin up the ladder with a scaffold peg
With 7 more minutes to go.
I've betta' watch my step or else I'll break my leg.
I got 6 more minutes to go.
Yeah... with my feet on the trap and my head in the noose...
5 more minutes to go.
Well, c'mon somethin' and cut me loose.
I got 4 more minutes to go.
I can see the mountains. I see the sky.
3 more minutes to go.
And it's too damned pretty for a man to die.
i got 2 more minutes to go
I can hear the buzzards... hear the crows.
1 more minute to go.
And now I'm swingin' and here I gooooooooo....
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only a couple of companies in the world have the experience of building these machines, although the market need, if RFID did take off, would be for about 1 million of the machines running in parallel.
quote by Mike Marsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who is my God?
At a new moon in the jungle
Was brought to an altar
A roaring goat, fully black,
By an awesome peasant
To the fearsome Kali,
Made of granite, red in cloak,
Under arbour of a peepul,
Who before stood
At dawn of death, the poor goat
Like a bull in a fight,
Arresting the attention
Of everyone, unknown of his fate.
The beast was put to rites,
Smeared with sandal paste
And fully drenched in water
Till he shivered a jerk,
Which was taken as token of nod
By grace of Goddess for her feast.
The peasant was pleased;
The priest was pleased;
So were all, as though they’re blest.
One held his hind-legs,
Stretching them well behind,
The other bending up his front one,
The third locking his head
Hard onto the altar
For the priest to accomplish.
The act was done at a stroke
By the learned priest, merciless,
For the Goddess, all merciful.
Many-wards squirted the blood
Like a carpet, red,
Before the Goddess, her tongue dripping.
All felt that they had met
The thirst of Ma, full
As did a mother her child, ere asking.
The agony that was undergone,
Murder they committed,
And pathos that prevailed, who noticed?
The beheaded beast went straight,
To the feet of the Goddess,
“Ma, am I not your child?
If not, who is my Mother? ”
Her lids dripped,
She cursed for having been chiseled
25.07.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lot
Sitting in a bar alone I thought
Pour me a drink to drown the pain I bought
My mind played a tape in my memory lot
All that has been will not be forgot
Life is hard, had been the plot
Take me home, this life is naught
For what purpose, have wars been fought
And to what end, have I been brought
The past is past, think on it not
The past quietly laid his bed in my memory's parking lot
Joy is rare and pain I've bought, yet here I'm brought
My summer's cold, and winter hot
Days are lonely, nights' the same plot
David was a girl's dream, and now he's walked
To where I know, to whom I know not
But one thing's sure, we were good, now all is lost
Time was mine, and memories caught
But who am I without you in my hut
Just a while I had a smile, to retain it with life I fought
What is this and all this hurt
I look around and always a stupid question blurt
'Are you happy? ', I keenly sought
'What's happiness? ', they asked and blocked
The beauty of eyes are sadness cut
The beauty of ashes are the lessons taught
The war of the mind are the talking thoughts
Phoenixes born, from ashes burnt
'Drink your drink', the barboy lurked
'Are you happy? ', I pierced his eyes for soul distort
He broke and cried, I wondered 'now, what? ! '
Dad left and mom's alone, pregnant with the fourth
No food, no roof, no clothes, no pot
'What is life? ', he sorely besought
I closed my eyes and tried to connect the dots
Not all deserved what they got
Diamonds from pressure, bleeding tempered by God's clot
Phoenix from ashes, hath the maker wrought
When life be tough, err with God
And when death be mean, heaven will be your lot
With glass still full, my eyelids popped
The barboy starred and wondered what
Kind of mind his heart had spot
Up I got
Life is God's
And live I must!
poem by Jenim Dibie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Factory
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Heads are down and all the people frown
In the factory
I'm so down I put my head around every noose I see
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Eyes are mean but the walls are clean
In the factory
Patience now they're gonna string you out
In the factory
I'm so tired I never go outside every night I sleep
Days are long but the minds are gone
In the factory
song performed by by The Vines from Highly Evolved
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When ATM machines came out and people were prosecuted for robbing ATM machines, I don't think anybody thought the banks were against technology because they didn't want their ATM machines lifted.
quote by Hilary Rosen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twentieth Century Man
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
In the jungle of these times
Honest loves so hard to find
In the world of video
Computers tell you what to do
The worlds devoted to the dollar sign
Remote-controlled and on the line
Plug in man on the rack
Waiting for a heart attack
And no chance to die
No more space for love
The world gets really tough
Cant you see the end
Twentieth century man?
In the jungle of these times
Theres nothing left for them to buy
They look for God on the screen
Theyve got even dream-machines
They are mesmerized
No more space for love
The world gets really tough
Cant you see the end
Twentieth century man?
No more space for love
The world gets really tough
Cant you see the end
Twentieth century man?
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Men Who Made Bad Matches
'Tis the song of many husbands, and you all must understand
That you cannot call me coward now that women rule the land;
I have written much for women, where I thought that they were right,
But the men who made bad matches claim a song from me to-night.
Oh, the men who made bad matches are of every tribe and clime,
And, if Adam was the first man, then they date from Adam’s time.
They shall live and they shall suffer, until married life is past,
And the last sad son of Adam stands alone—at peace at last.
Oh, the men who made bad matches, and the Great Misunderstood,
Are through all the world a mighty and a silent brotherhood.
If a wife is discontented, every other woman knows—
But the men who made bad matches keep the cruel secret close.
You may say that you can tell them, by their clothing, if you will,
But a man may seem neglected, and his home be happy still.
You may tell by their assumption of conventional disguise—
But, the men who made bad matches, I can tell them by their eyes!
I have seen them by the camp-fire, where a child’s voice never comes,
I have seen them by the fireside, in their seeming happy homes—
Seen their wives’ false arms go round them, and the kisses that were lies—
Oh, the men who made bad matches! I can tell them by their eyes.
I have seen them bad in prison—seen them sullen, seen them sad;
I have seen them (in the mad-house)—I have seen them raving mad.
Watched them fight the battle bravely, for the children’s sake alone,
Like a father who has wronged them, and who lives but to atone.
But it’s cruel, oh! it’s cruel, for the husband and the wife,
Who have not one thought in common, and are yoked for weary life.
They must see it through and suffer, for the children they must rear—
Oh, the folk who made bad matches have a heavy cross to bear.
There is not a ray of comfort, in the future’s gloomy sky,
For the children of bad matches will make trouble by-and-bye.
And though second wives be angels, while the first wives were the worst,
No second wife yet wedded makes a man forget the first.
Ah! the men who made bad matches think more often than we know,
Of the girls they should have married, in the glorious long ago,
And there’s many a wife and mother thinks with bitter pain to-day,
Of her giddy, silly girlhood, and the man she sent away.
Life is sad for men and women, but the thoughts are bitter sad
Of the girls we should have married, and the boys we should have had.
But we’ll part now with a handshake, if we cannot with a kiss,
And bad matches may be mended in a better world than this.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brothers
Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
It is as normal as it can be
This sibling rivalry
We should have dropped it at 22
But man I cant stand the things you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Youre always want something from me
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
It was so much fun having you in the family
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Now that were grown it aint helped nothin? at all
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
On my birthday, please dont bother to call
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, youre my brother brother brother
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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