The Magician.
The man in the -white as snow- thobe looked like a statue of
the saviour, as seen in protestant churches. He walked amongst
people at the farmers market, gently spoke about this and that,
maybe the price of cucumbers? What do I know?
Soon he had a fan base; people liked him and asked questions
that had more to do with metaphysical reasoning than the cost
of agricultural products.
This disturbed authorities, was the stranger sowing seditious
thoughts in people’s mind? And his thobe it repelled dust and
was always clean?
He was arrested and put in a police cell. When detectives came
to interrogate him he wasn’t there, only his thobe, which, the label
on the inside, read: made in China.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Living In China
They got the red book, they got the new look
All the little people that are living in china
They got the answers to all the questions
All the little people that are living in china
The solution is revolution
For all of the little people that are living in china
They got ping pong egg foo yung
For all the little people that are living in china
What would chairman mao say, if he knew what theyre doing to his wife today
What did china do? she ordered out for submarines instead of chinese food
China fields of rice, modern man no longer evil hes a paradise
What did the chairman want?
A great big wall they could all watch orientals on
They got the red book, they got the new look
The little people that are living in china
They got the answers to all the questions
The little people that are living in china
The solution is revolution
For all the little people that are living in china
They got ping pong egg foo yung
All the little people that are living in china
What would chairman mao say
If he knew what his people think of him today
Revolution is out of hand
The gang of four, trying to make it as a western band
China, what do you need
Youve got everything from your scruffy head to dirty feet
China you want to dance
Youre wearing makeup and listening to adam and the ants
They got the new look, they got the red book,
All the little people that are living in china
They got the answers to all the questions
All the little people that are living in china
The solution is revolution
For all the little people that are living in china
They got ping pong egg foo yung
The little people that are living in china
The solution is revolution
They got the answers to all the questions
All the little people that are living in china
China, living in china
China, living in china
China, living in china
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Vanishings
For me, this happened four months ago
when I was walking into Derby Town.
Before my eyes a man just disappeared
in an instant, and without a sound.
One minute he was there, the next he wasn’t.
In disbelief I stopped and looked around,
to see if anyone else had seen what I had seen,
but no one had, so I continued to town.
As I walked, I thought about what I saw
and whether I could be wrong,
but I was sure the man did disappear,
as he walked innocently along.
Throughout the day and night this troubled me,
and I began to question my sanity.
I concluded that my mind was playing tricks,
no one can vanish so inexplicably.
However, throughout the following days
I closely observed the papers and TV.
With no reports of random disappearances,
it confirmed my mind was fooling me.
I allowed the incident to leave my thoughts
and continued with my humdrum days.
That was until during my usual walk to town,
when I saw another person vanish away.
This really shocked and unsettled me,
so I asked the people near by
if they had seen someone just disappear,
but it was something they all denied.
It was time to see my local doctor
and I told him what I thought I saw.
He said I was suffering with stress
and of that he was sure.
Antidepressants were prescribed,
and advise for me to rest.
Not to think too deeply about what I see,
and leave disappearances to those who know best.
A few days later, an article in the paper stated
disappearances were on the rise.
However, the police weren’t duly concerned
the homeless were more than realised.
The next time I walked into Derby,
I saw three people disappear.
One was a woman pushing a pushchair,
which left her child alone, but near.
Another woman stood by the pushchair
and asked where the mother had gone.
I didn’t want to admit to anything,
so I shook my head and moved on.
I now knew it wasn’t my imagination,
but if I spoke out, people would think me insane.
Doing nothing about what I knew was hurting
and I felt an unbearable shame.
I decided to write letters to the papers,
warning the public about the vanishings,
and why the government was hiding the facts
to stop the anarchy this would bring.
I was arrested by a government network
who asked what proof I could provide.
I admitted my eyes were my only witness
and they accused me of unpatriotic lies.
I was placed in a room with a professor
who reacted as though I knew the truth.
He admitted he knew about the vanishings,
but how they happened he had no clue.
He was puzzled, but discarded abductions
because there was no sightings or sound.
Every hour of everyday in Derbyshire streets
vanishings were now common and abound.
The government is extremely concerned
whether the vanishings will ever cease.
They’re at a loss to know just what to do
to stop the population’s ever decrease.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A.d.d
She told me that she had A.D.D
I asked her what was one plus two, she said: "three"
I was so impressed that I asked her again
What was seven plus three, and she said: "ten"
I asked her more additions and she got them all correct
She was very intelligent by what I could detect
Then as I tried to talk to her more, but she got distracted
I then tried to get her attention then she overreacted
She then told me something that threw me for a shock
Her having A.D.D, wasn't what I had thought
She could add quickly and correctly which was true
But paying attention to others she could not do
She was easily distracted from the projects she was on
And also forgetful from the tasks she's undergone
She said she is sometimes forgetful from day to day
Then she looked at me and asked; "what did I say? "
I asked her some more questions and she never listened
So I spoke directly to her, and her eyes they glistened
She spoke to me, then she called me someone else's name
"And I don't like to follow instructions! " to me she did exclaim
"I won't finish my work or duties or chores and I never will"
"Only thing that helps me, if and when I take a small pill"
"I will avoid the things that will take a lot of mental strain"
"As this is who I am, and my thoughts and my brain"
Then I asked her what was one plus one and she said: "two"
She then looked at me and walked away, and said: "adieu."
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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People Who Read People Magazin
(Kinky Friedman)
Well, I'm here to say I got turned away from Studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she don't love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, here's who I'm singing for:
For the people who read People Magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Now if you're too New York for Texas, too Texas for L.A.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but you're always just a song away
And if the White House wouldn't have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good Lord made the Heavens, ah but He never made a star.
No, its the people who read People Magazine,
It's the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
It's everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, I'm 21 in Nashville and I'm 43 in Maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, it'd take a life-time to explain
That I'm a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: ?God Bless John Wayne?.
And bless the people who read People Magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read People Magazine.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Who Read People Magazine
(kinky friedman)
Well, Im here to say I got turned away from studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she dont love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, heres who Im singing for:
For the people who read people magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Now if youre too new york for texas, too texas for l.a.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but youre always just a song away
And if the white house wouldnt have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good lord made the heavens, ah but he never made a star.
No, its the people who read people magazine,
Its the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
Its everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, Im 21 in nashville and Im 43 in maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, itd take a life-time to explain
That Im a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: god bless john wayne.
And bless the people who read people magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read people magazine.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Racism is not a crime, but it should be
People from different places come to America
They have different backgrounds and have different skin
But they are in America
They should be accepted, even if their from Berlin
And yet we make fun of how they look
And call them names by their background
Because it’s a little harder for them to read a book
And we look down on them and frown
Racism is a weird thing
Sometimes we don’t even know what it is
Like Mr. King
And that dream of his
We shouldn’t judge people
At any cost
Because their still people
Just a little lost
So the next time you see someone
Being made fun of because of their color or background
Don’t keep walking and look down
Help and try to fix what has just been done
People are people
And they have feelings too
People are people
Just like you
poem by Keegan Shelton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Is The Price
RAP 1:
BABY'S IN THE PARLOUR
WAITING FOR THE RAIN
BEATING LIKE A HAMMER
WASHING OUT HER PAIN
CLEARING LIKE THE ONE
SEVEN YEARS AGO
WHEN HER FIRST BIG LOVE
MELTED LIKE SNOW
BACK THEN SHE DOUBET
IF SHE WOULD EVER FIND A MAN
WHO COULD LOVE HER THAT WAY
THE SAME WAY AGAIN
AND JUST WHEN SHE THOUGHT
SHE'S LIVING IN VAIN
THE MAN OF HER DREAMS
CAME LIKE THE RAIN
REFRAIN:
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK
EVERYTHING IS LOST
LOVE WILL BE YOUR PRICE
AND I KNOW I WOULD NOT CHANGE A THING
YES I KNOW I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING
RAP 2:
THEY SPOKE ABOUT HER DREAMS
THEY SPOKE ABOUT LOVE
THEY SPOKE ABOUT THE THINGS SHE WAS SO AFRAID OF
HE HAD THE KEY-WORD
FOR EVERYTHING SHE FELT
SO IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG
TILL HE GOT HER NAILED
PIN ONE'S HOPE ON SOMEONE ELSES LIFE
AND ALL YOUR DREAMS
WILL HURT YOU LIKE A KNIFE
SHE SOON GOT LOST
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
REFRAIN:
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK
EVERYTHING IS LOST
LOVE WILL BE YOUR PRIZE
AND I KNOW I WOULD NOT CHANGE A THING
YES I KNOW I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING
RAP 3:
SHE DIDN'T TRUST THAT VERY FIRST MAN
TO COME INTO HER LIFE TRYING TO UNDERSTAND
WHAT NOBODY EVER COULD BEFORE
HE ONLY MADE HER SEE
THERE IS SOMETHING MORE
TO LEARN ABOUT FREEDOM
TO LEARN ABOUT LOVE
TO HANDLE ALL THE THINGS SHE WAS SO AFRAID OF
TO ALWAYS FOLLOW WHAT SHE REALLY FELT INSIDE
EVERYTHING ELSE WAS A ROLLERCOASTER RIDE
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Probing Questions
Is there something more to life, than endless days of toil and strife?
Is there something after all of this; a Hell below or a Heavenly Bliss?
Can there truly be life after death, this when we take our final breath?
That question always asked is why; do innocent people have to die?
Why do righteous people perish, while evil seems to always flourish?
Friend is there truly a Living God, who rules above the earth we trod?
And does God truly care for us; mortal beings that return to the dust?
Can anyone have true peace of mind, in this world that is so unkind?
Why’s there evil darkness everywhere, if He is a God filled with care?
And why would a God full of love, simply sit and watch from above?
These are just a few of many more, questions asked about my Lord,
Questions that you may have asked; some in the not so distant past.
Many questions are Satan’s reproof, to keep many from God’s Truth,
Let none of them keep you from, Christ who from Heaven has come,
With answers to these and more, on questions about Heaven’s Door.
The Spirit leads to God’s Word, with the answers to questions heard,
Eternal answers which you will find, fill your heart not just your mind.
Where God not just answers them, but gives new life to all my friend.
Then all the questions are second to, the Eternal Life He’s given you.
And now an answer in my life, is to Heaven I’m going in Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©06/2007)
What for is money?
I thought on how could be the life
Without having to work for money.
After all this is the money which we work for.
Had we only have enough money to spend
We won’t have to toil our body or brain.
Solution also seemed very easy to me.
Just have a lot of mints to mint money.
Make as much money as may people need
Give them as much as may people want.
All problems are seemingly soon gone.
The root of all evils I thought could be
the root of happiness of all kind instead.
“How could this easy way out be overlooked? ”
Thinking furthermore I thought.
We need mints and we need paper and ink.
We need banks and a lot of ATMs.
People will get money and go for shopping
So we need ample shops. In shops we need products.
We need make shops and we need make products.
but we also need people to run them.
So some people will make paper and some ink.
Some other will work in mints and banks.
Some will work in shops and making products.
Rest all the people will only happily buy things.
Thinking up to here my thought jumbled.
People needed money so they worked.
If money was available for doing no work
Then why should there be anyone to work?
If no one works then where from comes paper and ink?
Where from comes money, banksand ATMs?
Where from then comes products?
Without products how could then we live and enjoy?
So we need products and for products we need to work,
to get people into the works we need money.
So it was that money could not be made free.
I thought 'People have already thought it before me.'
poem by Palas kumar Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The People's World
people are good;
people are bad;
people are happy;
people are sad;
people are near;
people are far;
people are true;
people are blue;
people are white;
people are right;
people are silent;
people are violent;
people can throw;
people can grow;
people can share;
people can care;
people can unite;
people can divide;
people can fool;
people can rule;
people can trust;
people are worst;
don't think i became mad.... what ever i wrote is very common things known about people but what i want to show is that i cannot describe everything about the people as it is impossible in the same way it is impossible to understand and make every person happy around us that's it.got it!
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dyou Know What I Mean?
Back into the hole where I was born
The sun in the sky never raised an eye to me
Theres blood on the tracks, and it must be mine
The fool on the hill, and I feel fine
Dont look back cos you know what you might see
Look into the wall of my minds eye
I think I know, but I dont know why
The questions are the answers you might need
Coming in a mess, going out in style
I aint good-looking, but Im someones child
No-one can give me the air thats mine to breathe
I met my maker, I made him cry
And on my shoulder he asked me why
His people wont fly through the storm,
I said listen up man, they dont even know youre born
All my people right here, right now,
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now,
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now,
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
I dont really care for what you believe
So open up your fist or you wont receive
The thoughts and the words of every man youll need
Get up off the floor and believe in life
No-ones ever gonna ever ask you twice
Get on the bus and bring it on home to me
I met my maker, I made him cry
And on my shoulder he asked me why
His people wont fly through the storm
I said listen up man, they dont even know youre born
All my people right here, right now,
They know what I mean. yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now,
They know what I mean. yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now,
They know what I mean. yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
All my people right here, right now
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
All my people right here, right now
Dyou know what I mean? yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
song performed by by Oasis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thought Police
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
Chorus:
Thought police
They will put you under
The thought police
They will take you in
The thought police
They will clean your mind out
The thought police
You can never win
You can never win
You can never, never, never, never, never win
There are people around with problems
Those who live in fear
Running from the shadows
Waiting for another year
Thought of the secrets
Secrets of the mind
Thoughts can spell out danger
To the leaders of the time
Chorus
Thoughts are fleeting glimpses
Of the future or the past
They lock ideas in a bottle
Its time to break the glass
Hiding out in the daytime
Crawling through the night
Keeping out of danger
Just trying to find the light
Chorus
Chorus (x2 and fade)
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What?
What is that strang air in the sky.
Why should a strange star pass me by.
How can you congratulate the people who destroyed the piece of mind,
The silly people just like you and better too.
How can you keep turning when the overture is burning on the faces
Of the people in the churches of the land.
Thats all a way that I cut from the lives.
The day has come at last.
People that cry in the boulevard,
Their eyes are blind they cry so hard.
How can you congratulate the people who destroyed the piece of mind,
The silly people just like you and better too.
How can you keep turning when the overture is burning on the faces
Of the people in the churches of the land.
Thats all it seems, there is only one dream.
The day has come at last.
Thats all it seems, there is only one dream.
The day has come at last.
What you have done makes me ashamed.
Ill blow it up and start again.
How can you congratulate the people who destroyed the piece of mind,
The silly people just like you and better too.
How can you keep turning when the overture is burning in the faces
Of the people in the churches of the land.
Thats all it seems, there is only one dream.
The day has come at last.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People come People go Who stays?
People go
To their synagogues mosques churches temples nightclubs and bars
People go to feel good People go
People go
To pray their prayers sing their songs drink their beers and dance their beat
People go
To be better feel better seek better because they know best
People go
When will people come
To know less experience more and give all
People come People go
Who stays?
poem by Lindsay Maasdorp
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ryan's Journey
There cannot be something bigger than me.
My body and mind it would say.
The things I see and the things I hear.
They must be the only way.
For years I truly believed this.
And then one day I did fall.
The things that I thought were the truth and were right.
It wasn’t the truth at all.
I then set out on a journey.
To places that I’d never known.
It was a journey to go in my mind and my heart.
And to soften my heart made of stone.
I was given a book and some angels.
To lead me on my new quest.
My old journey it brought the worst out of me.
I hoped this new one could bring out the best.
The journey began dark and was painful.
The hurts that were hidden inside.
It was then I reached the first destination.
This place it was called “Ryan’s Pride”.
I thought I was bigger then everything.
But something was bigger than me.
As I walked through the town that was called Ryan’s pride.
I thought to myself how could this be?
In this town I saw so many people.
And they all looked just like myself.
Everything they said they were right, I was wrong.
Time to put this town up on a shelf.
I said farewell to this town.
Down another path is where I went.
It was then I came across another big town.
This town it was called “I Resent”.
Everyone in this town was so bitter.
And the language they spoke was called hate.
They carried these things they called “grudges”.
On a dirty and tarnished old slate.
So I went and I purchased some “grudges”.
Saw the dirtiest slate I’d ever seen.
Then I went and purchased some bleach and some cloths.
And I wiped my dirty slate clean.
I left 'I Resent' shortly after.
I was glad it was bitter and cold.
The next stop on my journey of life.
Was a town that was called “I Controlled”.
Everyone in this place was so bossy.
And they picked each other apart.
Not letting anyone try to be themselves.
A town beating with only one heart.
I tried to fit into this town here.
But nobody would just let me be.
It just didn’t matter, I was never right.
These people they wouldn’t accept me.
In this town I saw a girl fall and get hurt.
I went and helped her to her feet.
And she said, “I am such a failure”.
This girl she looked truly beat.
I told her she was not a failure.
There was a lesson she learned from her fall.
I encouraged her for she had so many strengths.
And then this humble girl stood very tall.
I pondered the paths I had walked down.
And the cities that I came across.
I realized when I came to these cities in these towns.
That my heart and my mind they were lost.
All the people I hurt and battered.
The promises I never kept.
The burdens I placed on the people I loved.
It was me that I didn’t accept.
There were many more towns that I visited.
In the journey of my heart and my mind.
It wasn’t until the final stop I would reach.
It is where the Truth I would find.
This town it sat very empty.
Not a soul in this place did I see.
It was a beautiful town, it was called 'Love'.
This peaceful place was just for me.
Our world it is filled with seekers.
And we each were given a quest.
Sometimes you have to see the worst in yourself.
And just know it can bring out the best.
I am thankful that I took my journey.
I am thankful for my loving guide.
For the destination He wanted me to reach.
It came from my journey inside.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Still collective man feels compelled
Have you killed a white today
is still being proclaimed
and old people are killed,
white farmers pay a price
and robberies and killings
in suburban arias
never stop
as if every criminal
in Africa
have being heading south
and some are taught
to take from others
as if the possessions
are their own
and in the doing of it
to maim, rape, kill
and slaughter
without conscience
and the killings
are still being done
by psychopathic people
who like animals in a pack
follow a new psychopathic god
proclaiming an insane culture.
Still collective man
feels compelled
to claim love
only for the self
and not to care
about love for another
while the affirmative flame
burns bright
in a beleaguered night
and guns and knives flash
on the defenceless
and the state, police
and maddened population
do not comprehend
that no one lives alone
and everyone eventually
pays the price
when hunger, poverty
and destruction
takes its course.
[Reference: September 1,1939 by W.H. Auden.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Quiquern
The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow--
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;
They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to
the white.
The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's
crew;
Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken--
Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the last
of the Men!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Great Serenity: Questions and Answers
People in a hall that’s lit so brightly
It hurts
Spoke of religion
In the lives of contemporary people
And on the place of God
People spoke in excited voices
Like in an airport
I left them
I opened an iron door that had written on it
“Emergency and I entered within.
Great serenity: Questions and answers
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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I dreamt that I woke up in France today
I dreamt that I woke up
in France today
and that every word
that I spoke in Afrikaans, English,
Dutch or the little German
that I knew
fell incomprehensible on unenquiring ears
just as if I wasn’t there at all
and the people were living
as if only the French
were welcome in France
I walked through the streets
at the Latin Quarter
and It was the country of liberty
and in the street foreign kids
erected barriers
and were burning cars
and wrecking shops
and attacked the passers by
and there were police everywhere.
The city of Paris was beautiful
and people where smiling
and it was very romantic,
but I wasn’t a part
of the city and the world
around me
and drifted in and out of it
as dreams go.
I said a prayer
at the Notre Dame cathedral
and looked in awe at the flying buttresses
and rose windows
and heard the Seine flow past.
I walked along the pont des artes
across the river Seine
and in the background
the lights on the Ilse de la citè
burnt bright and reflected
on the dark waters of the Seine.
Bright lights flared
from the Arc de Triomphe
and the Eiffel tower was all lit up
where it was like
A upside down
V-sign against the sky
and suddenly I felt free
from all the things
that bounded me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We meet people all the time....
We meet people all the time
Rich people with nothing
Poor people with the world
Kind people
Not so kind people
Funny people
People who think they are funny
People who laugh at other peoples pain
People who change the course of our lives
People whom we change their direction
Inspirational people
Caring people
Intelligent people
History tells us of people who create World misery
And the ones who end it
People who charm the socks off us (while we are wearing our shoes!)
People who steal our affections
People who give us undeserved affections
All the time we meet people
Wouldn’t it be nice if this poem didn’t label them though?
poem by Wanelisa Albert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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