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Laugh, Laugh, Laugh With Me

The comedian Vadivelu in a Tamil film
collects money from those around
and assures, ”They will be shown God”
He takes them to a lonely place
and tells them to see God
on the top of a mound away.
All of them yelled, ”I don’t see Him”.
The clown tells, ” He whose wife
Is a sweetheart to others can’t see God”
and asks one, ” Don’t you see God there? ”.
“ Oh, I see Him in blazing light! ”, he shouts.
Then he queries the next. He too blares:
“ I see the beautiful God there! ”
All of them cried in delight: ”We see Him! ”.
When I remember this scene now and then,
I laugh heartily for a while.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Sometimes......

Sometimes a little smile, sometimes a little glare,
is what makes me feel you will always take care,
Sometimes a few words, sometimes a little touch,
is what tells me why do I love you so much.

Sometimes a little silence, sometimes a little kiss,
is what tells me the things I love and dearly miss,
Sometimes a helping hand, sometimes a little tear,
is what assures me, in sadness u will always be near.

Sometime a little walk beside me, when I'm in happiness,
assures me u will walk in front when there is darkness,
sometimes a little prayer, sometimes a little fight,
is what makes our life beautiful each and every night.

Sometimes a little separation, sometimes a little together,
is what assures me our love will last forever.
Sometimes a little fear, sometimes a little lie,
is what tells me u will always love even if I die,

these little things is what brightens up our face,
true love happens only if these things takes place,
in love-these things takes only little time, little heart,
to tell your mine and I'm yours and we will never depart.

poem by Nicsbabygirl... Andisen
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Little things in love

Sometimes a little smile, sometimes a little glare,
is what makes me feel you will always take care,
Sometimes a few words, sometimes a little touch,
is what tells me why do i love you so much.

Sometimes a little silence, sometimes a little kiss,
is what tells me the things i love and dearly miss,
Sometimes a helping hand, sometimes a little tear,
is what assures me, in sadness u will always be near.

Sometime a little walk beside me, when I'm in happiness,
assures me u will walk in front when there is darkness,
Sometimes a little prayer, sometimes a little fight,
is what makes our life beautiful each and every night.

sometimes a little separation, sometimes a little together,
is what assures me our love will last forever.
Sometimes a little fear, sometimes a little lie,
is what tells me u will always love even if i die,

these little things is what brightens up our face,
true love happens only if these things takes place,
in love-these things takes only little time, little heart,
to tell your mine and I'm yours and we we will never depart.

poem by Xena is a poem author
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Demon voice

he tells me to fight not to walk away
he tells me to scream not to talk rational
he tells me to hate not to forgive
he tells me destroy not to create
he tells me to give in
he tells me to kill

he knows i'm getting weaker
he knows it's almost his time
he knows he will be free
he knows he will have fun
he knows it will be a bloody ride to the end
he knows the end is death and so do i

poem by Paddy Jansen
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Nature tells me

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my riches for I am not
much richer than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my beauty for I am not
much beautiful than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my kindness for I am not
much kinder than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my generosity for I am not
much generous than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my logicality for I am not
much logical than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my judiciousness for I am not
much judicious than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my poetic mind for I am not
much poetic than her.

Nature tells me not to be proud
of my prides for I am not
much prouder than her.

poem by Palas kumar Ray
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Every Face Tells A Story

Look at the man in the corner, hes sitting all alone
His blankets are made out of cardboard,
His pillows are made out of stone
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
See the man walking on the water, see the light in his eyes
He came into the world with a message to tell,
He came into the world to die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Youre always telling stories, youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories, why?
So think of yourself in the water, seeing your days flashing by
Its too late to see what you wanted to be,
Youve spent all your time, you must die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Step down
And make it work out right
Im trying to get to you with my warning
Been there
For nearly half the night
Look its nearly four in the morning

song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beware of Gold!

The cops help the thieves in stealth
to sell the stolen gold jewellery.
So I warn my wife of that ‘nexus'
and advise her not to buy gold chains,
to avoid needless mental pain
and the strain while being snatched away.

But she buys more and more
and takes me an old man as her guard
to face the onslaughts of the armed gangs.
She can't come to my help as she is also in sixty.
If I hesitate to give her company,
"Aren't you a man? ", she blares and roars.
My sons are ready to be her sentry
but she shouts at them to go away
and yells at me, "Why this man married me? "
"Very difficult ", these days of robbery,
slitting throats and gang attacks
to wed a girl fed with a thirst for gold
and live through the years unhurt.

As the violent end is imminent
I sought to insure my life
under the ‘Term Plan' which gives
a lump of money on death.
But the agent knowing my plight
recommends ‘Pure Endowment Plan' for me.
That plan assures money only on my survival.
I am not allowed to bequeath some millions
to my obedient and caring children.

poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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From Where Shall I Greatness Buy?

Mom tells me to finish my homework quickly,
When I ask why? , she tells me
“You should become great as great as your dad”.
When I ask, where is my dad Mom?
She tells me, “He is now god’s guest.”
Again when I ask Mom,
“Can I not become great by being the god’s guest”?
She slaps me gently and tells me,
“Now just shut up and get your homework done”.
Little later when I ask she says,
“Your Dad fought like a tiger,
risking his life, he never bothered.
His gun has brought him greatness
and the honour of being the god’s guest.
Again when I ask,
“Do people become great when they fight”?
If so, I will beat in the school,
My friend Philip, with my might.”
Now, Mom calls me stupid and gives me a push.
Crying I go to sleep in her lap,
Now she says, “Tomorrow I will
give you pocket money for ice-cream”.
Wiping my eyes when I ask,
Mom! ”Can I by saving pocket money,
try greatness buy”?
Tell Mom, “From where shall I greatness buy”?
She tells, “Oh god help me”
and begins to cry.

poem by Dr. Sandeep Kumar Kar
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Laugh Clown Laugh

Laugh Clown laugh,
that's what they want me to do.
I guess I'm doing something right
because this Clown made you laugh too.
Laugh Clown laugh,
make everyone laugh real hard.
Besides, Who would it hurt?
Will anyone notice
how it has scarred?
Laugh Clown laugh,
but only for a while,
at least until you see
that the humor is in your denial.

poem by Cecelia Warner
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An Angel for My Friend

I want my friend to have an angel,
for he's an angel to me,
he isn't just a friend, oh, no,
he's more like family.
He's not always around. Most times
he's with the other teens,
but he takes the time to talk to me,
and I know what he means.
He says the world is hard and soft,
a good/bad place to grow,
and the more we learn about it,
the more there is to know.
He tells me that I'm handsome and strong,
he tells me when I'm wrong,
he tells me that I'm funny and smart,
he says that I've got heart,
he helpsme with my homework,
he's going to teach me how to swim.
Well, I want my friend to have an angel
just like him.

(By: Eloise Greenfield)

poem by Sydni Smith
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I Reach For The Light

(eric carmen)
I cant begin to count the times
I have been by myself
I lie wake my lonely room
Tells me theres no one else
No one else
I reach for the light
It shines above my head
Reveals the bed that youre not in
I reach for the light
It shines across the room
And brings to mind what might have been
I tell myself Im better off
No one can have me now
I see your crumpled photograph
It makes me laugh aloud
Laugh aloud
I reach for the light
It shines above my head
Reveals the bed that youre not in
I reach for the light
It shines across the room
And brings to mind what might have been
And I wish I could forget
How good you look, tonight
When you smiled at me
And walked away with him
Oh, oh no!
I reach for the light
It shines above my head
Reveals the bed that youre not in
I reach for the light
It shines across the room
And brings to mind what might have been
I reach for the light, now
(I reach for the light)
I tell myself Im better off
No one can hurt me now
(I reach for the light)
I see your crumpled photograph
It makes me laugh aloud
(I reach for the light)
I lay wake my lonely room
Tells me theres no one there
(I reach for the light)

song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mirrors Never Lie

Looking into a mirror, can reveal the deepest secrets a person has.
It tells you who you really are, even if you’re trying to hide it.
It’s amazing what people can hide, when they smile or laugh.
They can be the saddest people in the world and no one will ever know.
Except a mirror.
You may be able to lie to others,
But when you look into a mirror, you can’t lie to yourself.
The mirror shows you what’s inside, and how you feel.
It tells you how beautiful you really are, and it shows you.
Looking into the mirror is like looking into your soul,
You look at yourself, you judge yourself.
But you see more than normal people do when you look in a mirror.
Because they only see you from the outside.
So remember that the next time you look in a mirror,
You are looking at your true self,
Because mirrors never lie.

poem by Rachel Brewer
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Trust

Nowadays
You can’t
Trust -
Anybody.

You trust
Your mother,
She tells your
Father.

You trust your
Wife, she tells her
Friends.

You trust your
Hubby, he tells
His mates.

You trust your son,
He twitters it all….

You trust your
Daughter, she
Posts it on FB’s
Wall ;)

You trust yourself? ?

You tell the whole
World ;)

How? ?

Through blogs and
Poems :)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Rickety Rhyme

rickety man, rickety house
quickly ran, saw a mouse

stately woman, in stick hut
prickly fish, coconut

Man meets Woman half the way
Woman asks Man want to play?

sticky situation, sticky plot
Man tells Woman rather not

Woman looks Man not well hung
Woman tells Woman not much fun

Man tells Woman another time
Woman goes off end the rhyme

06/09/09

poem by John Lyday
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The Fortune Teller

There's a fortune teller
that tells it like she sees it.
But how do I know that
what she sees is true?
Maybe it's all hokum
and then what will I do?

She tells me I will meet
the man in my life
that will sweep me off my feet
and make me his wife.

She tells me I'll have babies,
that they will make me proud.
She tells me she sees sunshine
and not a single cloud.

And so I feel better,
better than before.
But before I leave,
before I leave your door

Let me look into your eyes
to see if these are lies.
Oh fortune teller let it all be true.
My time is running out now.
It's all up to you.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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I am empty, old, poor, but smell good

got a fresh one... everytime we look for food,
vegetable, milk, fish, and even our eyes want
to see fresh beautiful women and handsome
gentlemen... a part of us is something that
tells that we came from fresh origin

remember when the first time we meet our
husband and wife... they were so sweet and
tender.... like a first morning dew, waiting the
early morning to come, beneath the horizon
dawn of the earth and sky

it is the present that tells the past, for today
is the present and it tells that iam fresh until
you lost your appetite of what is today

today is what you saw, in the yesteryear's, for
it does not close my dear, it is only your eyes
that closed, ages... is moment to live....a state
of wisdom to share...a grit.... to hold on too..
with you

as you steer at me...iam old....rotten...broken...
yet so sweet to smell... like as years gone-by,
the smell remind you the fragrance you want...
is yourself that lives in me......it is in me that.....
is in you.... we smell

poem by Antonio Liao
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Is She Not Silly?

you are making my life
so miserable
she tells him
why? why? why?
she asks three times
when i only want to make
you happy
to please you
to remove from you
that plaster of pain
from that bruised part
of your body?
she tells him of
her intentions

there is no answer
he is one hour from death
bleeding
yet she is still there
asking for an
answer

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Value of Rubies

Virtuous woman
Valued beyond rubies
Till time and wear
and truth and tear
steals the light

Better for value are you
women of ill repute
in dimly lit
alleys and taverns
Who, when paid:
Tells you they love you
When you know they don't
Tells you to trust them
When you know you can't
Tells you this matters
When you know it doesn't
Though who tells you
they stay
by the hour
till time is up
and do
and you sit in bed
smoking
watching
her ass
as she leaves
Glowing ember
turning to ashes
flickers, fails
and finally
dies.

poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)

Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.

I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!

The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.

My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!

Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.

Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!

Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’

Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010

poem by John Celes
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Candlelight

So many bees, who know so much
that only bees can tell,
gave their life’s devotion
to this single source of light;
silent whisper for your attention
to what it has to tell your sight,

before its substance burns, returns
into the upper air…

gently burns on altar, or scented in the bathroom’s grace;
or here in front of you, gentle hypnotist
for the wandering mind;
to which it has so much to tell..

tells of humility; gently burning
in a stable, before a birth;

tells of loving-kindness; gives itself,
yet asks for nothing but to be itself;

tells of worship: worship, first, of what the bees are;
and here in this honey-coloured form
is their own worship;
waxing silent in murmured devotion;

warming miraculously, into liquid wax;
only love can be so liquid;
only love can reach so far;

liquid, warmed into this present light:
the candle’s flame you know so well
yet cannot shape or hold;

already, candle hints to you
that there is that beyond all sense:

for round its light, air’s gently warmed:
drawing the flame itself into the invisible above
like the soul that’s yearning for its homeland;

and beyond, within, that air you cannot see
unless it moves some other thing,
it lights the space – space which is not
bathroom, altar; but all space;

candle tells you of all that;
draws the mind with steady, silent truth
to all creation in a single flame;

flame that asks for naught of you
but your attention; which it will reward
by telling you in stillness,
what you worship in yourself;

the light of self, that shines before all men
and glorifies its maker
like a gentle flame that cannot be put out.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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There was one very special scene at the end of the film. My character, Zhao Di, has been sick. She wakes up and her mother tells her that the man she loves has come back from the city and had spent the day by her bedside.

quote by Zhang Ziyi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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