Re-Birth
You could see him from a distance
at the bus halt he stood motionless.
staring to the infinity.
he waited for the bus for hours and hours
days and months.
he wanted to see his mother
who is going to die very soon.
He saw a lorry came to the halt
full of laborers with instruments
and the overseer explained him that
they are going to put up a Railway line.
He waited for the train
for hours, days and months
at last the train arrived and his sick mother got down.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Train
Writers: leo sayer & david courtney
Running through my life
Like a river, like a song
Train keeps pushing me
Right back to the place where I belong...
Back along the tracks
Fly a million years
Right across my path
Train moves on ringing in my ears...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, take me back, again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Ive been up all night trying to get this down
Now Im hallucinating
Staring at the wall look what Im creating...
Look at the clock Im twelve hours old
So many more remain
Way up ahead I know I see a train...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, all those memories, all over again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Waited on the station all day
Just to see a glimpse of the morning train
Just to see the wheels turning round
Blowing up steam,
See what I mean,
You see what I mean...
song performed by by Leo Sayer

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem that Played with Me!
We played and played
Hours days months years
You went your way
And I went my way
Then began a game
Of hide and seek
Tired I pushed the door
There you're hiding...
Tired I dropped to the floor
There you're under the cot
Did you go your way?
Did I go my way?
We still play and play
Hours days months years
You didn't really go anywhere
Nor did I go my way!
(26 May 2011)
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts

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Daughter
9 months i carried you
An 9 months i waited for you
9 months later
With 6 hours of labor
Here you are
So cute an so small
My little girl you are
3 years i held you
In my arms you were
In fear and tears
Were you wrapped safely in my arms
Now nearly 4 years later i lose you
My little girl taken away
You were tortured an beaten
left alone to die
You came of a crime
An i didnt love you any less
You changed my life so much
An as fast as you came
You left me so soon
I spend my days down
Crying every minute without you
When i should be holding you
Showing that i love you
That i will always be there
But instead i cry an cry
Placing flowers on a grave for you
My daughter you were made
My daughter you became
My daughter you are
Whether here or far away
My daughter you will always be
poem by Kerrie Maurer

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To My dear MOTHER.
AN Ode to My Mother
Days of uneaten food, unclosed eyelid,
Months that weighed heavily your mid,
Hours you spent labouring for breath,
Moments of unbearable pain that brought me to earth,
Can I ever repay you for giving me birth?
Months you spent teaching me to eat,
Guiding me lovingly to stand on my feet,
Beauteous smile lit your lovely face,
On my small triumphs in early days.
The pain in your eyes and unshed tears,
Echoed my trials and untold fears.
Your comforting hands embraced me night and day,
To alleviate my pains and keep my worries at bay.
Boundless love, You shower, even today,
Mother, how, oh, how will I ever repay?
poem by Rama Muthukrishnan

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Days in Red
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
And moon of glowing dark
Sky deep and high
Days days days in red
Flowing on hours in night
Where love lost its flight
Once those were alright
Now they no more spark
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
Is there a horizon of ignite
Where hours go on by
Days days days in red
Flowing memories at sight
No feeling seems now right
But love's still inside
Come come babe now close abide
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
Is there a horizon of ignite
Where hours go on by
Days days days in red
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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Travel in a Box Car of the Fuehrer
Armed with bayonet-fixed rifles
And hurling vulgar insults
Royal Hungarian gendarmes
In cock- feather- plumed hats
Shoved us with vicious force
Onto a shabby cattle car
In the railway station of Szeged.
And then they locked the doors.
With my little sister in her arms
Mother and I found ourselves
Amid eighty men, women and children
Squeezed together like sardines
In a hermetically sealed tin can.
The wagon was ill-ventilated
Its small windows were barred and wired.
The Jewish prisoner train
Departed slowly with the deported
Gathering clattering momentum
On a dreadful journey
Into the gloomy unknown.
The box car came with two buckets
One was filled with water
The other empty for human waste
And soon was filled to the rim
With urine and feces.
The car became a stinking latrine
Rolling on rusty wheels.
We travelled day and night
And sometimes the train
Made a halt on the open track
In the middle of nowhere
Waiting idly for a long time.
We arrived at the concentration camp
After a horrible voyage of three days
But not before the Hungarian gendarmes
Were replaced by SS guards
At the Austrian border.
During the ordeal of this voyage
I sat next to a sick old man
Who was lying on the floor exhausted.
My shoes were touching his face
And I began to play with my shoe lace
Passing it over his mouth and nose.
He had sighed and groaned in delirium
And when my mother noticed
She scolded me in an angry voice.
So I stopped and apologized
For my uncomprehending mischief
But the old man did not hear my words.
The train wheels kept rattling
Over the railway tracks
Across meadows and towns.
Some time passed
And then I looked at the old man:
He became very quiet.
Mother told me that he died.
poem by Paul Hartal

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In my day, at 12 years old, which was 38 years ago, we worked out in summer months for two and a half hours. Today someone in that age group might work out for four hours, two hours in the morning and two at night.
quote by Mark Spitz

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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You saved me....
I walked down a endless black tunnel.
I gave up hope and I gave up looking.
I wasn't truly happy.
I wore fake smiles.
There wasn't much reason for me to go to school.
I would walk for hours.
Hours turned to days.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months of walking in my lonely despair.
After a few months I began to see light.
When i surfaced you were the first one to catch my attention.
You pulled me out.
You made me happy.
You gave me reason to go to school.
You brought me out of my lonely despair.
And for that I thank you, and I will love you till the end of time maybe even longer.
poem by Kendra Swan

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Those 6 hours of solitude
No.104, Dated: 31-May-09
Those 6 hours of solitude
Those 3 words “See you later”
Goes right across my heart
Feels the world has come to an end
Still I wish we would never go apart
That one dreaded word “Bye”
I wish I could just make it disappear
Though it always follows with a “Hi”
Its appearance is so austere
This world would again be dry
With my destiny, I fought and argued
Why do I need to face this again
Those 6 hours of solitude
Staring the ceiling, while I lie on the bed
I paint you in my imagination
Yours eyes are closed, your lips are silent
But there’s a subtle revelation
I could hear you breathe; I could feel your warmth
You lie beside so motionless
I keep staring at your face for the next 6 hours
You just make me so obsess
All of a sudden my dream breaks again
And I wish I could get your gratitude
I wish you realized how much I love you
Just to avoid those 6 hours of solitude
poem by Sumeet Mukherjee

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In The Smallest Of Things
when chapters become books,
and passion becomes love...
written in hours and minutes,
in days and weeks...
and weeks become months,
and months become years...
footsteps woven into one.
days of work for nights of small things...
food, fire, children, good books
and good wine...
quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,
the candle lit by touching
in the darkest hours...
do we forget, do we lose memory,
do thoughts become echoes.
bricks laid by sweat and toil
are lost in the wall...
need becomes distance,
and curtains fall.....
you stare at the body,
as if some stranger...
and a lifetime given
like tiny shards of light,
nails covered with rust,
the spider's web empty.
only the trees know,
mountains, and lost caves.
raindrops falling,
and moonlight never named.
the dog barking in the night,
you think for no reason...
ah! but love testifies,
in the smallest of things!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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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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7 Hours
Today's a sunny day
And there's a lot of time to go with it
For me
I want to celebrate and have fun for 7 hours
So ladies and gentlemen
Make the food
Fill up the drinks
It's going to be a fun 7 hours
I'll bring my poems
Maybe my photos
Perhaps even show the ladies a dance I know
7 hours
And the time is ours
Full of nice memories
Full of good times
Full of new friendships
Full of whatever we want to make of it
These 7 hours
These 7 hours of perhaps stress free and
drama free
These 7 hours to be what we want it to be
poem by Justin Gildow

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These Days
Your beauty is like none other
a face you see shine
eye's like the evening sun
and these days pass
I wanted and waited here
for you to be mine
I knew deep in my soul
you were always the one
like the hours past
love was lost in time
now these days
just wanting it be fine
it could always last
as we hold each other forever
Tonight I will be here alone
still you're here beside me
I never let go
they're is no misery
in this place we have grown
you have finally come home
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood

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Tea For One
(page/plant)
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days?
Oh twenty-four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
Sittin, lookin at the clock, time moves so slow
Ive been watchin for the hands to move
Until I just cant look no more
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seems to slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
To sing a song for you, I recall you used to say
Oh baby this ones for we two, which in the end is you anyway
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
There was a time that I stood tall, in the eyes of other men
But by my own choice I left you woman, and now I cant get back again
How come twenty-four hours, sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
A minute seems like a lifetime
When I feel this way...i feel this way
song performed by by Led Zeppelin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I spent two months on the first draft, working 8 hours a day, five days a week.
quote by George Stephen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Time Feels Without You
Seconds are like days
Minutes are like weeks
Hours are like months
Days are like years
Weeks are like centuries
When I'm away from you
poem by Steve Yeager

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Waiting In Vain
I STAND ALONE UNDER THAT TREE
WAITING FOR YOU
I DON’T SEE THE HOURS FLYING BY
THE PEOPLE DARTING BY
THE TREE UNDER WHICH WE HAD MET
DAYS PASS INTO MONTHS AND YEARS
STILL AM WAITING FOR YOU
AS TIME PASSES BY THE LOVE FOR YOU
GROWS AS THE BRANCHES OF THE TREE
BUT ONE DAY ALL THE LOVE SHATTERED
AS I SEE YOU UNDER THAT TREE
IN SOMEBODY ELSES ARMS.
ALL THOSE YEARS OF WAITING WAS REWARDED
BY THE HAPPINESS YOU HAVE
BUT AM LEFT BEHIND THINKING
IS THIS THE ONE I WAITED FOR
ALL THESE YEARS IN VAIN.
poem by Kanu Aravind

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On Rude
Just a little rude can ruin someones day,
being rude a little bit,
is like swimming in a vest,
rude is like swimming with no trunks on,
kissing in the dark,
was it him? or was it her?
and eating from a bag ewe left open on the counter
for several days.
The decadance of Society, RUDE,
has finally sickened me,
the only thing to do is pray to GOD
to quicken me.
When the hours pass too quickly,
and the days pass just like hours
the months appear to me like weeks gone bye.
These aer the things eye am searching for.
A Kind Word.
A Smile.
A Happy Kiss.
A While.
Time is a blessing.
Keep Time In Today.
poem by Charles Hice

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