Lament 2
Lament
Bucolic village
Full of romantic cobble stones
Fucking hard to walk on
When your feet are old
And you need slippers and carpets
And not bogus rustic charm
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
Bunny Slippers (TM) (For Will)
Bunny slippers,
Bunny slippers,
Pitter patter feet,
Running down the hallway,
Seeing who they meet.
Bunny slippers,
Bunny slippers,
Running all night long,
Curious feet,
Can really do no wrong.
poem by Aisha Sherazi
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The Cobble Stone Path
Our memories are the cobble stone path
to our past that we walk along,
and if we trip or stumble,
they repeat themselves again.
We move forward every day,
then we stop along the way
and the cobble stone path appears
and we find ourselves walking along it again.
The years melt away before us
and we are back into yesterday
and those memories we made
that always seem so far away.
As we walk along the path,
each stone hold a memory.
Some are cherished as we step on them,
and others we would just like to skip across.
20 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Life Is ~ The Stones Under My Feet
Life is the stones under my feet
All the places I've walked
All the places I haven't
They say something about who I am
The pebbles that I pick up to toss in the ocean
The boulders I've sat on
The skipping stones I throw across the lake
Gravel and sand
And cobblestone streets
Places with history
Places where history is about to be written
And what it has to say for my history
All those stones that I've crunched
Under my boots
Or sandals
Or sneakers
Or just my bare feet
Walking carefully
And there occasionally is a piece of glass
When I cut myself I bleed
But I heal in the end
Then I get up to walk on more stones
Because life is where you choose to walk
And where you don't
poem by Indigo Rosedragon
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Love Pitfalls!
Loving words romantic ones spray
And many succumb to the spell!
Deceived they realise it's false
And lament in poems endless here!
Love is not an easy joke to fool all;
But some have the gift of tongue
Like the heroes of movies often
And sway the preys very easily!
Then many stores in poetic forms
All read and say comments fast!
Popularity of love poets rise high
Making others to aspire so here...!
Sans experience nothing can be done
To say words of truth touching hearts!
But with new forms and techniques
Try their best in vain for a longtime!
Who can stop the moths flying to fire
Carried away by bogus romantic heroes?
Time only can stop such pit falls for them
And bring them to this world sooner sure!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Hard Core Heart
Hard rock and drugs
Running thru my veins
Mother fucking bitchy whore
Been called by many names
Moshing thru the nights
Sleeping thru the day
Drinking in the bathrooms
Pretending I’m ok
Breathing in the smoke
Laughing at the pain
Giving up all hope
Taking all the blame
Hard rock and drugs
Running thru my veins
Mother fucking bitchy whore
Been called by many names
Hidden by my smiles
A part of me resides
Getting smaller by the day
The rest of my heart dies
Hard rock and drugs
Running thru my veins
Mother fucking bitchy whore
Been called by many names
Smoking pot in my room
Know I won’t get caught
Mom and dad are drunk again
Forgetting what the taught
Hard rock and drugs
Running thru my veins
Mother fucking bitchy whore
Been called by many names
poem by Hannah Anderson
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Bogus Doses
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
To keep them away from a 'vision'.
Don't leave with a notion to soak,
Your bogus doses will get any info from me.
To keep me away from what's been 'visioned'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep.
Not deep enough to cloud...
A 'vision'.
Your rolling overexposed bogus doses aren't deep,
To keep them away from the 'vision'.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
You can't exchange the truth for a dollar.
Or change its appearance to ensure it fits.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Take your bogus doses.
People who have seen this have a 'vision'.
And to witness focused.
Whatever that you do,
Has been done and 'thunked! '
With a doing of it in most eyes like a basketball dunked.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
Swish, swoosh that's it.
And people who have seen this have a 'vision'.
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away, away!
Now take your bogus doses.
Take your bogus doses.
Now take your bogus doses...
Away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Pavement Stones :A Song of the Unemployed
WHEN first I came to town, resolved
To fight my way alone,
No prouder foot than mine e’er trod
Upon the pavement stone;
But I am one in thousands,
And why should I repine?
The pavement stones have broken springs
In stronger feet than mine.
I brought to aid me all the hope
And energy of youth;
And in my heart I felt the strength
Of plain bucolic truth:
The independence nourished
Amid the hills and trees—
But, ah! the city hath a cure
For qualities like these.
I wonder oft how e’er I made
The efforts that I made,
For after three long weary years
I taught myself a trade.
And two more years and I was free
With strength and hope elate,
For “he that hath a trade,” they say,
“Hath also an estate.”
I tramped the streets and looked for work
And begged for work in vain,
Until I recked not, though I ne’er
Might touch my tools again.
I tramped the streets despairing;
My cheeks grew white and thin;
I felt the pavement wearing through
The leather, sock, and skin.
The bitter war goes on between
The idlers and the drones,
Until the hearts of men grow cold
And hard as pavement stones;
But I am one amid the crowd,
Then why should I repine?
The pavement stones have broken springs
In stronger feet than mine.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Springs beneath street,
cobble stones echo old bones,
heedless of time, fleet.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (02 November 1990)
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The Prince
Buster, he sold the heat
With a rocksteady beat
An earthquake is erupting
But not in orange street
A ghost dance is preparing
You got to help us with your feet
If youre not in the mood to dance
Step back, grab yourself a seat
This may not be uptown jamaica
But we promise you a treat
Buster bowl me over with your bogus dance
Shuffle me off my feet
Even though Ill keep on running
Ill never get to orange street
So I set it up myself to say
For the man who set the beat
So Ill leave it up to you out there
To get him back on his feet
Buster bowl me over with your bogus dance
Shuffle me off my feet
Even though Ill keep on runnin
Ill never get to orange street
Bring back the
Who is the
We want the
Bring back the prince
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bogus Man
(ferry)
The bogus man is on his way
As fast as he can run
Hes tired but hell get to you
And shoot you with his gun
Focussed his mind
On something he cared about
But it came out a shout
Just like before
The bogus man is at your heels
Now clutching at your coat
You must be quick now hurry up
Hes scratching at your throat
Concealed his doubt
By skilful evasion
But he couldnt find out
About deception
The bogus man is on his way
As fast as he can run
Hes tired but hell get to you
And show you lots of fun
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The falling is the constant mate of fear
The falling is the constant mate of fear,
And feel of emptiness is the feel of fright.
Who throws us the stones from the height --
And stones here refuse the dust to bear?
Once, striding in a monk’s unbending mode,
You pierced the yard from rim to other rim;
The cobble-stones and the coarse dream --
Have thirst for death and sadness of the broad-
Let Gothic shelter be in ruins turned
Where ceiling serves as a deceptive fable,
And in the heath the gaily logs don’t burn!
A few here for eternity were born;
But if your mind has only instant label
Your lot is awful and your home unstable!
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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The argument on the other side of special rights is completely bogus. It's bogus because you could make exactly the same claim about racial or ethnic or religious minorities.
Bangles
In festival seasons,
Miles walked bangle sellers
Tread the vennel unforgettable,
On feet, worn and torn,
With white clothe bundles,
Full of bangles and their lives,
On their heads wobble,
Whose calls village girls listen,
Break their clay pots,
In which they had collected coins,
And buy bangles
In hues and designs diverse.
Some unknown artists
Shaped the designs on bangles,
Who never came to the limelight,
Instead, wages collected
And withdrew in to silence.
Village girls put on bangles;
Always mesmerised beauty little pains out kept.
Jingling arms love CDs inserted
In to the heart-players of rustic guys,
Who always combed their hairs.
Girls keep and care the bangles,
Like virginity, till the nuptials.
Bracelet turns bracelets,
Often, after the wed locks.
Uncared…
Broken…
And discarded bangles:
“All Fate”, they say…yes!
In kitchens, a few scattered;
Into wells, a few thrown;
And, also, a few burnt in flames.
Unalloyed simple joys,
Experienced worn bangles,
Like virginity, left village girls.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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STONES and THORNS
Are you bewildered?
Why do you walk on stones and thorns with bare feet?
Beloved, don’t you know lovers do not walk on feet?
They walk on love.
A lover’s journey is neither short nor long,
A lover’s journey is timeless…endless
A precious journey guided by a fervent heart
ROTMS
(Inspired by Master Rumi)
poem by Ray Lucero
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Pulse Of The Maggots
This is the year where hope fails you
The test subjects run the experiment
And the bastard you know is the hero you hate
But cohesion, it's possible if we try
There's no reason, there's no lesson, no time like the present
Tell me right now, what have you got to lose?
What have you got to lose, except your soul?
Who's with us?
I fight for the unconventional
I'm right, and it's unconditional
I can only be as real as I can
The disadvantages, i never knew the plan
This isn't just a way to be a martyr
I can't walk alone any longer
I fight for the ones who can't fight
And if I lose, at least I tried!
(We) We are the new diabolic
(We) We are the bitter bucolic
If I have to give my life, you can have it
(We) We are the pulse of the maggots!
I won't be the inconsequential
I won't be the wasted potential
I can make it as severe as I can
Until you realize youll never take a stand
It isn't just a one sided virgin
We dealt with a manic subversion
I won't let the truth be perverted
And I will leave another victim deserted
(We) We are the new diabolic
(We) We are the bitter bucolic
If I have to give my life, you can have it
(We) We are the pulse of the maggots!
Do you understand? Yes!
Say it again, say it again! (We won't die)
We fight so no one can fight us
We live and no one can stop us
We pull when we push too far
And the advantages, the bottom line is
We never had to fight in the first place
We yell it, and just spit back in their face
We won't walk alone any longer
What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger
(We) We are the new diabolic
(We) We are the bitter bucolic
If I have to give my life, you can have it
(We) We are the pulse of the maggots!
Do you understand? Yes!
Say it again, say it again! (We won't die)
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Of Gold
Dreams from Vienna, vernal troubadours
Violins play soft, cafes in romantic light
French poets with symbols of rebellious mirth
Walk the ancient streets, parades of ghosts
Cobble stone, centuries, clocks, silver myth
Surrealistic images from the sea of Kings
Royal crimson halls where queens smile
Crystal glasses of gentry, castles, carriages
Narrow roads roll through the Alps
Aegean verse from a sea of Keats
Spanish romance with eye's of fire
Crimson goddesses in castles of Italy
Paris and Rome under a full moon
Dance the night in satin dresses
Mediterranean art in moonlit soul
My elegant love is a lady of gold
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Black Slippers: Bellotti
At the table beyond us
With her little suede slippers off,
With her white-stocking'd feet
Carefully kept from the floor by a napkin,
She converses:
'Connaissez-vous Ostende?'
The gurgling Italian lady on the other side of the
restaurant
Replies with a certain hauteur,
But I await with patience,
To see how Celestine will re-enter her slippers.
She re-enters them with a groan.
poem by Ezra Pound
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A Romantic Life Adventure!
Sentimental, emotional, great characters love romantic life;
Passionate, engaged and attached they like to live long life;
Fun, entertainment and amusements they have in romance;
Romantic love life these human beings live true to heart ever!
Longing for love they do all to get the hand of sweet heart;
Love, marriages and divorces and love again they try ever!
For the satisfaction of the self they do romance forever here
And live alone ever in life longing for love till the end comes.
Romantic fellows lament about the friends and loves lost in life;
Beginning, middle and end the means followed never the same
Because adventure is the spice and taste of romantic life here;
Many yet live romantic life because the pleasure is exotic ever!
A romantic life is the dream of many a guy and girl since long
Though success is rare failures they are ready to face and die!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Global Village
Global village
Though we are all human
we are made to be different
by forces beyond our clout
Yet they want remake us
in a new image of their choice
in a village too big to be safe
The world they now call
a single village in the globe
with a big brother to match
As long as we are second class
within that large village fashioned
we would be subjected to
someone’s standards
someone’s culture
someone’s technology
someone’s understanding
someone’s world view
someone’s theories and concepts
They try hard in harder ways
to make us part of that village
but we know we are different
and shall strive to leave outside
that fashioned unsafe village
poem by Yusuf Adamu
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A Romantic Life Adventure!
Sentimental, emotional, great characters love romantic life;
Passionate, engaged and attached they like to live long life;
Fun, entertainment and amusements they have in romance;
Romantic love life these human beings live true to heart ever!
Longing for love they do all to get the hand of sweet heart;
Love, marriages and divorces and love again they try ever!
For the satisfaction of the self they do romance forever here
And live alone ever in life longing for love till the end comes.
Romantic fellows lament about the friends and loves lost in life;
Beginning, middle and end the means followed never the same
Because adventure is the spice and taste of romantic life here;
Many yet live romantic life because the pleasure is exotic ever!
A romantic life is the dream of many a guy and girl since long
Though success is rare failures they are ready to face and die!
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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