English Manners
English people
say hello.
Drizzled smiles
captivate hearts.
Innocent looks
speak aloud
elegant thoughts.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Related quotes
Smiled Smiles to be a Villain
When I saw you for the first time,
You gave me a coy smile that stole
my heart and made it marvel at wonders.
When I sought to enlighten me
with the phone of long, rounded, back vowel,
the professor spat at me blood;
but sunny smiles you drizzled over me.
WhenI read aloud the lines of Shelley in the class,
You let free from your wont lips
winsome smiles from the back
to give thrills to excite me.
When I sent you some sonnets of my madness,
you laid them on the table of the Director.
Tell me Smiley, why you smiled smiles
and then be a villain to probe the author
of the effulgent expanse of love?
----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak
do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?
they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still
they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue
you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too
foolish!
but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves
despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god
how sad!
you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thought Broadcasting
Silence is a silver ship
Traveling at the speed of the darkness,
Black holes are the edifices in which I
Build my thoughts-
Word by word,
Each and every syllable forms upon my lips,
And then broadcasted, aloud-
Thoughts are killers- thoughts can harm-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
Within this room I write my thoughts
With a pen that is void of ink, or a pencil
That has no lead,
Invisible they are, but somehow,
These thoughts are broadcasted aloud.
Thoughts are killers thoughts control-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
A silver ship with its sail to the wind,
A wild horse that canters across vast terrain, or
Pebbles that roll off of my fingertips,
That splash into the creek, one by one,
You can see, you can hear, as
My thoughts, broadcasted aloud.
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
My thoughts are a flame that only I can quench.
I am in control of what comes into my mind,
As my hands build the world from
The bricks of Time,
My thoughts control the world.
My thinking destroys those, whom I abhor,
My thoughts control the downtrodden.
Silence is a silver ship, or
The dome beneath which I dwell-
I build my edifice beneath this dome.
No one dares to enter, as
I have broadcasted a message to the world,
My eyes order the world away;
My thoughts are broadcasted aloud,
A bad thought can destroy, as good ones
Create and control,
My thoughts control the world…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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I Am Trayvon Martin Too (Speak Aloud, Be Loud...)
I am Trayvon Martin Too
Je Suis Trayvon Martin Aussi
Yo Soy Trayvon Martin Tambien
Mwen Se Trayvon Martin Tou
(Speak Aloud, Be Loud…)
Speak aloud, be loud, and raise the decibels;
So the deaf, and the racist imbeciles
Can hear the storms that are brewing
Over this sad, and unfortunate slaying
Of this young combatant, and innocent brother.
Ring the bells of Liberty from one corner
To the next corner of the globe to raise awareness,
And to inform the world of the meanness
Of 'a few want be' masters of the universe,
Of a few who shoot first and later converse.
If you are not a cop, you should not behave like one.
If you are not a judge, don't act like you can deliver justice.
If you are a false prosecutor, stay away from a true investigation.
The Supreme and the World Court need to act without bias,
Without any preconceived notion of some unrealistic ideas.
They ought to practice fairness and call it like it is.
It is time that we see the real face of equal Justice,
Under the rules of laws that are fair and equitable.
We need to see all hands that are on the table.
May the bright rays of Justice shine upon our society,
And bring peace, and the spirits to live in harmony!
Speak aloud; make very loud noise, to slowly awaken
The sleeping spirits of our deceased civil rights leaders.
We cannot take it any more, we will not be weakened
By hypocrisy and the cowardly lazy behaviors
Of some of our elected or selected public officials.
We will not take it anymore; we will use our potentials.
We want fighters who are willing to improve our situation.
This is not the time to talk; this is the hour of decisive action.
Speak aloud to force the mute to speak and to cry for Justice.
Speak aloud so the deaf and the dead can hear our passion,
And feel our devotion and perseverance for Justice for all.
Speak aloud so the crippled can march and rattle along
With us all over the world, where our brothers and sisters'
Rights are being trampled and violated like some rusty canisters.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Innocent World
I used to live in an innocent world
I had a car and a pretty blond girlfriend
We was too young to know what we were doing
And anyway I was just fooling around
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
There aint no reason to tell no lie
When youre young and youve got a lot of pie
Now I slink around like a killer
The things they say are just a lot of filler
In my mind, in my mind
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Running, laughing in the sun
And always having lots of fun
Smoking dope and just being young
In my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elderly Women Behind The Counter In A Small Town
i seem to recognize your face
haunting, familiar, yet i can't seem to place it
cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
lifetimes are catching up with me
all these changes taking place, i wish i'd seen the place
but no one's ever taken me
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
i swear i recognize your breath
memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
me, you wouldn't recall, for i'm not my former
it's hard when, you're stuck upon the shelf
i changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate
perhaps that's what no one wants to see
i just want to scream...hello...
my god its been so long, never dreamed you'd return
but now here you are, and here i am
hearts and thoughts they fade...away...
hearts and thoughts they fade...away...
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
hearts and thoughts they fade...
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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English Language
The English language it contains thousands of words
Which includes nouns, adjectives, constants and verbs
Structuring them together to create novels or speeches
So we can speak or read or listen while a teacher teaches
And of those thousands words that we have at our command
Some are the few words that decent people have banned
Sadly those few words most people use to swear and to curse
They are crude, coarse and obscene which are used alone or in a verse.
The English language contains thousands of words
Which equals to the stars in the sky or the multitude of birds
They are used in conversation and to define who we are
Words are the building blocks from a vast reservoir
But then we have those few words that are very crude
People use them to hurt or to insult and also to be lewd
Judge a book by its cover and the people by the words they use
When we speak, speak with caution and ponder and then be a muse.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I Wonder Atop the Dunes
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity?
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
Then I make eye contact with it.
Pulling me in like a magnet!
And I see you...
This attractive distraction.
Relaxing to instigate,
My delusions of being laid...
On Labor Day.
And throughout the festivities of the holidays.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity.
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
And we discover a great happiness.
Will we be sharing Thanksgiving?
Or comfortable enough to be sitting...
Under the Christmas Tree butt naked.
And exchanging gifts with kisses?
To sweat if we let it get done.
Near the grate of the fireplace.
To quietly lay to hear 'carols' we hum.
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
And I am...
When I think of how we met.
And I am...
Full of regret,
I did not extend to you an invitation.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
But,
When again?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To become an American citizen, we require people to read, write and speak in English. That is to help them to assimilate in our melting pot, truly to become Americans. We mock that when the cherished right to vote does not involve English any more.
quote by Ernest Istook
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winning Combination
How do people speak in the positive sense?
Their minds are offset by the ridiculousness in the mouth,
The speech uttered from above is to the heart
As thoughts are connected to other thoughts
To make a winning combination, a game has been suffered.
My sense is superior and believable by the outstanding men,
Understand me as I speak of the world and its pleasures.
The world flowers from its shoulders,
Bringing a war or two in the positive sense.
My people speak due to old age,
A maxim is too hard when remembered.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Finglish
I am from Finland and i speak 'Finglish'!
Because i am learning the English language and,
It always infuses with my Finnish.
I am learning to keep me going but,
I do speak my English like 'Finglish'! !
And i always try to enforce the truth of my peace like,
The subconscious act from my mind to muse up things:
But i am unaware of your love.
Try to keep me informed on this love and,
Try to teach me the English language so that i cam be with you;
For the heavens and the earth do know how i do speak.
Keep me on the tracks of your love and teach me more!
For one day i will learn the English language very well;
And i will be ready to teach you my Finnish language as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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America
Once in English they said America. Was it English to them.
Once they said Belgian.
We like a fog.
Do you for weather.
Are we brave.
Are we true.
Have we the national colour.
Can we stand ditches.
Can we mean well.
Do we talk together.
Have we red cross.
A great many people speak of feet.
And socks.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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The Cycle
The practices of speeches
Sharing a little vision
An insight
To tonight, to tomorrow
With words borrowed
We do not own them any more then our thoughts
They meant to live beyond the pages
They meant to teach those off all ages
It as any love
Their there too give you a hug
Their there to remind you to not be so smug
Explaining the because as it was
What has happen
They crawl, walk, and talk
They are everything and nothing
Ink scribbled down and folded up.
It is love note
As a kid does
passed to another
read aloud in ones heart
then it is ripped and torn apart.
to be forgotten except by that which beats so hard
for a child does not lightly forget
reinventing it
with their own style and smile
it is the english language cycle
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Who's To Blame
Oh Mother Ghana; Mother Ghana
What has happened to you?
What has happened to your culture?
They say we've fold arms against 'Vernacular' language
Instead opened arms wide to 'English' language
Oh Mother Ghana Mother Ghana
Why?
At school, we are taught the things we do not know
By the 'English' language
Why not 'Vernacular' language?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Where is your true identity as pure African?
Where is your pride as true Ghanaian?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Day after day
When we put on the uniform as students
We are forbidden to speak 'Vernacular' language
Instead the 'English' language
Why Mother Ghana, why Mother Ghana?
When we speak 'Vernacular' language; your culture,
They say: 'Speak English' someone's culture!
When we speak 'English' that someone's culture
They say: 'Abrofosem; speak vernacular language' your culture!
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Who's to blame?
'English or Vernacular language'
Oh Mother Ghana; Oh Mother Ghana.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
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The Beginnings
It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late
With long arrears to make good,
When the English began to hate.
They were not easily moved,
They were icy-willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the English began to hate.
Their voices were even and low,
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show,
When the English began to hate.
It was not preached to the crowd,
It was not taught by the State.
No man spoke it aloud,
When the English began to hate.
It was not suddenly bred,
It will not swiftly abate,
Through the chill years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the English began to hate.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Beginning
1914-18
It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late
With long arrears to make good,
When the English began to hate.
They were not easily moved,
They were icy-willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the English began to hate.
Their voices were even and low,
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show,
When the English began to hate.
It was not preached to the crowd,
It was not taught by the State.
No man spoke it aloud,
When the English began to hate.
It was not suddenly bred,
It will not swiftly abate,
Through the chill years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the English began to hate.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Billy Joel's Innocent Man
(for a friend somewhere, i am dedicating this song)
Some people stay far away from the door
If there's a chance of it opening up
They hear a voice in the hall outside
And hope that it just passes by
Some people live with the fear of a touch
And the anger of having been a fool
They will not listen to anyone
So nobody tells them a lie
I know you're only protecting yourself
I know you're thinking of somebody else
Someone who hurt you
But I'm not above
Making up for the love
You've been denying you could ever feel
I'm not above doing anything
To restore your faith if I can
Some people see through the eyes of the old
Before they ever get a look at the young
I'm only willing to hear you cry
Because I am an innocent man
I am an innocent man
Oh yes I am
Some people say they will never believe
Another promise they hear in the dark
Because they only remember too well
They heard somebody tell them before
Some people sleep all alone every night
Instead of taking a lover to bed
Some people find that it's easier to hate
Than to wait anymore
I know you don't want to hear what I say
I know you're gonna keep turning away
But I've been there and if I can survive
I can keep you alive
I'm not above going through it again
I've not above being cool for a while
If you're cruel to me
I'll understand
Some people run from a possible fight
Some people figure they can never win
And although this is a fight I can lose
The accused is an innocent man
I am an innocent man
Oh yes I am
An innocent man
You know you only hurt yourself out of spite
I guess you'd rather be a martyr tonight
That's your decision
But I'm not below
Anybody I know
If there's a chance of resurrecting a love
I'm not above going back to the start
To find out where the heartache began
Some people hope for a miracle cure
Some people just accept the world as it is
But I'm not willing to lay down and die
Because I am an innocent man
I am an innocent man
Oh yes
I am
An innocent man
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A child's world
Such an innocent mind,
A world of excietment,
A world of no fear,
A world of butterflies and dragons,
Friendship braclets and secret hide outs,
A game of fun,
A life of dreams,
Innocent and sweet,
Brave and mischievous,
Its a world of loving trust,
That my people is in a CHILD'S WORLD
poem by Cierrah Smiles
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We Speak Often
we speak often...
of revolution, yet
we almost never speak,
of the old woman left alone,
her husband dead two years...
who sits in the dark,
and sometimes eats,
and cant see to clean her house.
we speak of peace,
and send troops to liberate,
teaching seperation in our churches.
we speak of hope,
yet horde all we can,
and keep our revolvers loaded.
we speak of justice
in terms of 'i' and 'they'....
and applaud wordplay in our courtrooms...
we speak of equality,
then call each race by name,
and demand that they speak english.
we speak of god as holier than thou...
never understanding dialogue and dissolution....
we speak a lot, yet cannot listen...
what fools we are!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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