A Subconscious Vision
I dreamt I was an orphan boy
who lived in a far off land.
I had no shoes or socks to wear
and my pillow was a bag of sand.
My breakfast was a dug up root
my lunch was just the same.
Water was over two miles away,
and I lived with stomach pain.
Sometimes through constipation,
sometimes from nothing to eat,
sometimes from dirty water,
and sometimes from the heat.
I endured flies and mosquitoes,
and suffered from their disease.
Often I became sick with fever,
which brought me to my knees.
When stomach cramps visited my body,
and the pain wouldn't let me be,
I thought about the other children
far less fortunate than me.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Why Spread Rumours?
Why spread a rumour? what benefit do you get?
Maybe its just not having a sense of humour
Embarrassing some one is the same as embarrassing
Your self
because when the truth comes out your lies
Are crashing you down like hard rocks
no one would Want to be close to you like stinky socks
you will Find it hard to wash out that smell you have
the best way is to not wear those socks again you wanted to live
Other people in pain but look you're the one taking
Pain killers
your having headaches because of the advice your getting from people
your having stomach aches because of the shame that's failing to digestIn you stomach
So why spread a rumour?
You thought spreading a rumour would be opening up
A new box of exciting letters to read on
but look all troubles Fell on you like Pandora
you cant get your self up because You have no hand
you keep falling because there is no one you Can lean on
you cant talk because no one will listen
your head Is full of questions because your personally interviewing you self
With questions like why did I do that? What have I done?
So why spread a rumour?
poem by Atlay Mwenifumbo
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I Am Sick....
I am sick …. The pain I feel.
I am sick…. This must be surreal.
I am sick…. I will not die.
I am sick…. But I must live on with this lie.
I am sick…. It’s not like cancer it’s not that bad.
I am sick… but the say depression goes with this pain I have.
I am sick…. It will never disappear.
I am sick…. My days will go on with the same o’l tear.
I am sick…. That I have thought of taking my pain away.
I am sick…. For that I cannot for the pain must stay.
I am sick… and no one can fix me.
I am sick…. That no one can see.
I am sick…. They believe nothing is wrong with me.
I am sick…. Because of this disease.
I am sick…. Because I beg god please.
poem by Winifred Harkness
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Naturalized Straws..
The heat from the freshly baked oven,
Slightly radiate on the subtle skin,
Of the perfectly manicured hands,
We all say, the heat is the pain.
This part of the world, where the sun likes the most,
Licks our body with his scorching tongue,
Throughout the day and even at midnight,
Not to say it is pain, it is the life endured.
Looking for water like the animals in the jungle,
Travel many miles to get clean water, tingle,
Is our body and mind to get a pot of water,
Just To carry on the head, hip and shoulder.
Billions of men and women waste their prime,
Collecting woods and water to pass their time,
Millions of men and women may live in comfort,
Worried are they, with uncomfortable duties of the day.
Eagles and Ravens live on scavenging with futuristic vision,
They can be found near the precious waste, soon to be retrieved,
When the inability of someone is considered as the opportunities,
We spread the roots to suck their fluid through 'naturalized straws',
Then To call ourselves as policemrn and champions of the world.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dwellers
It was known as the street of despair, where the homeless
And destitute lived- but no one cared!
They all turned their backs
It wasn’t hard to do, because it
Wasn’t anyone that they knew.
They lived in abandoned buildings
with no heat or water, but respect for each other
And their own type of order.
They still walked with a sense of pride
And on each other they did rely…
They created their own commune
And each child had their own room.
The men would go out and look
For jobs that would pay by the day.
They built a playground where the
Children could play.
Lawn maintenance and painting jobs
Could always be found, and at days end
They’d lay their money down.
Although they did not live
The same as you and me
But They lived comfortably.
They would buy five gallons of water
So that they could sponge bathe
For their lives had completely changed.
They bought portable stoves
So that the women could cook.
A little ingenuity was all it took.
They would buy clean clothes for
The children to wear, for that was
The only thing for which they cared.
A proper education was their goal
They would not allow it to be taken away
Exchanged, or stole.
They lived and worked together with one
Thing in mind, that these children would
Live better in a different place and time.
These are the true DWELLERS
That you don’t often hear about
For there is no one there to tell
Their stories and scream and shout.
poem by Louis Rams
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Where are the people , Who lived for others
Where are the people
Who lived for others
Cried for them
Laughed with them
Thought
More for others
Less for self
Suffered in pain
Never complained
Encouraged others
Lived for them
Died unknown
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I hope the next one won't be 'it
Some people say when you are in love
You feel butterflies in your stomach
Although I am in love
My stomach aches
Every day
Every night
Each day of the week
Each day of the month
Each day of the year
It aches
7 years has passed
In the end of year 7
I found out
‘it' fell in love with another
Dreamt of ‘it' for 7 years
‘it' is so far away
Even in my dreams
‘it' isn't even a person
That's how I have felt
So far away
‘It' doesn't even resembles a person
Ah, so foolish
One sided love
‘it', I have touched
But I haven't felt
Pain is what I have felt
For 7 years
Every day
Every night
Each day of the week
Each day of the month
Each day of the year
‘it' is pain for me
Pain doesn't love me
Pain hates me
Pain hurts me
But I will cherish pain
I will support pain
I won't tell ‘it' whom ‘it' mustn't love
Because I want ‘it' to be happy
Eventually my pain will be over
But eventually
I will come across another
I hope she won't become ‘it'
I hope when I see her
When I touch her
I won't feel pain
But her
poem by No Lover Of 'it'
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Water.
Water drips off my body
Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass as it rolls down my face
Stop the pain
Stop the water
Stop the liquid pouring from my body
Feel the pain
Breathe it in
Taste the hurt flowing
Flowing
Ever so smoothly
Ever so beautifully
Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass and cuts like a knife
Red water
Looking so pretty
Glistening in the light
Black water
Staining my soul
Streaking my face
Making my pain visible
Water that looks like glass
Falls on my body
Seeps through my pores
I feel nothing inside
So breathe it in
Feel the pain
Let it hurt
And let it heal
Cuz you'll be dead soon enough.
April 5 2010
Copyright by Elaine Cole 2010
poem by Elaine Eatsbabies
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Have you ever been sick?
Have you ever been sick?
Walked that hospital floor with a stick
Have you ever been sick?
Had an operation painted graphically horrific
My knees, weak they felt
I heard their voices melt
Into pain from poor health
For them rebirth or death sickness spelt
Suddenly I realized life is not static
While listening to a tale so tragic
A mother cried at sicknesses trick
Her family of four it decided to pick
At any time we can lose
Anyone sickness decides to abuse!
Have you ever been sick?
In vain visited numerous clinics
Have you ever been sick?
Wondering where life will next kick
Have you ever had a cough?
Thinking you are having it so rough
Have you ever suffered from heat?
Knowing others gave up there in defeat
Have you suffered from cuts?
Or open wounds that severely hurt
Have you ever looked at the sick?
And thought anyone of them eccentric
Health is wealth and good health for sure
Is created by thoughts that are deemed pure
While the clock goes tick-tock-tick
If you ever find yourself sick
It helps to eliminate the negative traffic
With more than just a mere flick
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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A Gentle Touch of a Doting Mother
Not a figment of one's imagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.
Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.
Not a figment of one's immagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.
Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
Some dismiss the hugs given with kisses.
The ones not missing,
The nourishment a providing of this gives.
Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.
And a healing of a pain eventually goes,
Away.
Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
And those who are,
Fortunate...
To know and/or remember,
Know memories of 'mama' within them linger.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I too, have got shoes
Have you seen shoes on children here
No shoes for other children
No shoes for your children
My uncle said to my dad
I lost my shoes—small shoes
from then on
My feet crushed the thorns
from then on
The city was taken from me
But not me from the city
from then on
Many years later my shoe remover died
And I got back my shoes
Bigger shoes—for crushing thorns
from then on
I cat walked in them
And went to bed in them
from then on
I got the city back
Even when I stayed there
from then on
Believe me I too have got shoes
And I slip my feet in them
But not for sleep anymore
Yes I too have got shoes
Other children wear shoes
My children wear shoes
Wear shoes why not
Why not why not why not why not
Shoes in the cot
Shoes to school
Shoes to the market
Shoes to the office
Why not wear shoes
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Stomach with food
Dont full
Fill your stomach...at
Food...
Stomach is
Full fill
The food...
Only at only
With waste of
Basket...
Making
At your stomach...
Drink...
Eat...
A llways
With your stomach
Limet... limet...
Healf stomach
Is good...
Bada full food
Eating...
Mothley once
ok...
Every day
Not better for
Your body health...
Diside to eat food...
Daily...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Nobody Saw The Roses
Walking down the subway
Narrow as a rat hole.
Rain water flooding.
Knee depth water.
Socks soaked.
See men complain.
despair on their faces mirrored in the water.
See dirty dogs walk alongside,
See the fateful flood,
See the garbage over stairs,
But nobody saw the roses stuck under their shoes as they walk out in despair
poem by Sowmya Sundaram
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I Need Water
Scorching hot summer’s day
Devastation struck on our holiday.
Water, water running out
No more water left about.
Where is water?
What to do?
Stressing, thirsty, hungry too.
Need a shower!
Need a drink!
But there is no time to think.
Running, running to the store
“No more water” written on the door.
I need water, but there’s none,
Definitely not having fun.
Feeling dirty!
Feeling sick!
Needing something so basic.
Water, water I need you
Then I’ll be as good as new.
Water, water always there,
Once it’s gone we’re made aware
Wasting water is not right
Now it’s gone I’ve seen the light.
I need water to survive
I’m lucky to be alive!
poem by Salvatore Mazzeo
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Oh I'm Sick
Oh I'm sick, My stomach aches,
I sleep but the pain wakes,
Everybody complains, my parents, my friends,
'Why didn't you take care? ' 's that never ends!
Oh I'm sick, I suffer like everybody else,
I even feel the pain with my cells,
Wish I would die right now,
And every one will be shocked and say wow!
Then, there is no more blame,
No suffer, I really claim.
No doctor to ban me from living,
And no more lies I would believe in.
poem by Sina Farajzadeh
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RIP (live 2000-10-20, Brixton Academy)
I'll get down on my knees
I'll do anything I can
I'll even walk upon water
I'll burn the soul of a man
I'm so sick with need
I'm so sick with pain
I'll lay before the cross and pray
I'll bleed like holy rain
I've done nothing to you
I'll rip the skin from God's face
I'll say I'm searching for the truth
I'll steal the light from Heavens gate
If it can guide me to you
I'll give life to obsession
I'll give life to disease
I'll give you one last sin or cure
And then I'll do as I please
I've got something for you
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Answer...
If it were a glass of water,
It can be evaporated or,
It can be frozen for ever.
If it were a glass of milk,
The powder can be obtained,
Which can be exported.
If it were the unsold weaponry,
Foreign land can be used,
To test and reap the profit.
If it were the marketing module,
Naturalized citizens can be called,
To market in their abandoned countries.
But it is the pain that we suffer,
The pain that is suppressed and endured,
What to do with it?
The pain of limbs and mind,
the pain of heart and soul,
the pain of ills and evils,
Take away this pain, my Lord.
A fist size heart can't take this pain,
The brain tries to come out of the skull,
The nerves that inform us all these pain,
please, could you stop sending the signals?
World is so beautiful, People are wonderful,
everything abundant, even the pain too,
take away the pain from us, Lord, What?
Do you say we are the reason for this pain?
Do you say that our habits are the cause?
Do you say that our greediness induce it?
Do you say that you can't help us and
we have to help ourselves?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Husband and Wife
It's gonna be hard
To get back on track
After all that we've been through! !
Some say we're not meant to be together
Only if they only knew! !
We've practically been brought up together
And lived the same old life
I always knew you'd be my husband
I always dreamt i'd be your wife
So what's so different?
What has changed?
Have we grown apart?
I didn't think that could ever happen
I thought you owned my heart? ?
I wouldn't want to live without you
I couldn't even try
I thought about it late last night
And i cried my pillow dry! !
So don't think about this hastily
We need to talk it out
We vowed together, till death do us part
An i never had a doubt
Let's prove them wrong
We're meant to be
I love you more then life
You're made to be my husband
And i'm made to be your wife! ! ! !
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Priceless
The fact that you
You think you can
Speak to me
The way you do
It pains me to believe that you
Have never stepped out of the skin you've lived with
And then, and if
This day occurs
Your tongue, the taste
Will immitate a battery
The anti-equilibrium
Your stomach becomes the floor
The look on your face was priceless!
The look on your face was priceless!
Yes, the look on your face was priceless!
That look, it was...
A light goes on
Up stairs, the attic is a place of solitaire
Isn't big enough for both of us
So who will swim in eel infested oceans
Kiss and say goodbye
because the tide is coming up and in
Yeah, water, water, water everywhere!
And every chance to sink!
The look on your face was priceless!
The look on your face was priceless!
Yes, the look on your face was priceless!
That look, it was so priceless
It's a proclamation
Of the things you aren't
The ways you wish you were
A split second
Percieving of the way you really look to everyone of them
I wish that you could see because
I wish that you could see
The look on your face was priceless!
The look on your face was priceless!
Yes, the look on your face was priceless!
That look, it was so priceless
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River Starvation
I have starved my stomach for six weeks
For six weeks I have only craved water
Searching for absent soul at the bottom of the glass
I pretend the water forms a river that carves its way through my body
Making creeks in my spirit
Making pools in the gaps of my morals
This river holds the water of the West
It holds the water of the West which I have never seen
It holds the water of the West which I have never seen.
poem by Laura Kiernan
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