I Am Tired Of The Usual Agony
tell me another story
the one which you cannot tell inside a motel
where you hold a cigarette
on one hand and a bottle of gin on the other
do not attempt on another
one that begins with
once upon a time
for sure i don't like it and i won't like you beginning
such a kind of trash
to tickle my dead senses
ooops, tell me not a story about pity
and sympathy, the one that you always tell to your
bed partner when the storms come
and in the middle of its harshness
you have nowhere to go nothing to do except
spend your time wisely in another hotel
with a partner
whose name you never bother to ask
or remember
as there is no significance
do not tell me about agonies
i had them all and will have them soon again
or sooner than soonest
they always come to a person like me
do not describe to me the agony of death
or torture or broken hearts
or crashing economies or incoming wars
between this government and the rebels
and soldiers on a coup against their
fellow soldiers at the military academy.
do not tell me that, now that we are here
inside this room where our clothes and faces
do not really matter
except our bodies emerging from a hot shower
where every moment counts
as escape from other agonies
that we have mastered
do not tell me about the agony of our times
high prices of gas and still rising
the possibilities of retrenchment
and closing of some companies
the possibility of this government getting
bankrupt
and the working people on mass strikes
toppling
of a government and the
putting up of another
by another superpower
out there
do not tell me about such kind of agonies
i want
an agony with you, the warmth of your hands
like cinders all over my body
the weight of your body over my body
the kisses of your tongues that will not
make me breath
sucking me
as though i know eternity
your legs blocking mine
like i have no way of finding an exit
from this prison
or labyrinth
this is the agony i want for the moment
give it to me
and i will give it to you
in mutuality
agony for agony
then we shall forget ourselves
our faces fade in the dark and then at least
we sleep
lost in our naked dreams
let the storm rage outside us
while we make more stories
about flesh and moaning glories inside
this motel
without us knowing
even the room number
or the color
of the curtains
or when another morning comes
slowly on the window panes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Government By The People For The People
government by the people for the people
for the good for the benefit of the people
this is what government is supposed to be
how many decades since any government
has lived up to this founding noble ideal
government telling people forcing people
to take consequences of fake political fall out
forcing people to swallow heinous waterboarding
torturous might is not right torture is crime cruelty
drowning under control conditions without mercy
repeatedly being proud of this in glory memoirs is sad
agony drowning once is traumatic struggle to breathe
agony drowning cells dying fighting to take a life breath
respire take in air suck in air inhale volume water expire
agony drowning traumatic struggle repeatedly resident evil
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Agony
Ever wonder how He felt?
Praying in the garden
His students asleep
Could not watch for an hour
He knew He had to die
Even if it's just for me
He would be scourged
He would sweat blood
Even if it's just for me
Agony!
There He was, fixed
Nails in hands and feet
For a moment
Abandoned by God
Agony!
They pierced Him
Blood and water gushed
Mom at His feet
Brothers vanquished
Head bowed
Breathed His last
How He felt?
Think you have it hard?
Think about Him
Agony!
He was wrapped
Buried and left
Thought it was the end?
Not so fast!
Three days later
He got up
Just like that
Now He reigns victorious
Today knees bow
Eyes close
Agony?
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Bush Wacked Liberty
bush wacked liberty courtesy of skull and bones mentality
an illuminati president bush wacked citizens into clone senility
repeatedly boasted proud published rhetoric memoirs gory glory
ghost written claimed waterboarding is not form torture insanity
forcing tortured suspects to swallow heinous bush crime cruelty
forcing citizen clone people to swallow heinous bush policy
torturous might is right torture is bush legacy crime cruelty
victims drowning under control conditions without mercy
agony drowning once traumatic struggle military preliminary
agony drowning cells dying fighting denied life breath humility
agony drowning traumatic struggle resident evil repeatedly
inflicts on fellow human suspect beings drowned repeatedly
suspects innocent until proven guilty is not bush justice mentality
locked up Guantanamo suspects detainees tortured indiscriminately
torture of the innocent wins hearts minds of good people globally?
See also the poem ‘Government By The People For The People'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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You alone was the secret
You alone is the never ending battle,
You alone made these scars
now we seporate and i feel neglected,
with you alone i find that you can end my agony,
you alone is the savior of my broken soul,
you alone will make me the queen of my fate
every day is a new sign and a new time,
you alone will make end to all my agony's,
you alone was th secret of my hurting soul
poem by Jordan Johnson
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I Love the Way You Love Me
I love the way you love me,
This fight inside for being ourselves,
This search for God
And inner self inside,
This need
In losing control,
This agony and this ecstasy
Belonging to the same second.
I love to be you
When you lose control
For being mine.
I love to make you mine
In your awareness.
I love this ecstasy and agony
Of the same second.
I love the way you love me,
When you say that you love me.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Let's Remember Those Soldiers
Let's remember those soldiers
No matter alive or dead
Hold them dear to our hearts
And keep their memories in our heads
Let's remember those soldiers
As they fight on foreign lands
And pray they make it back home
Because it is all up to Gods hands
Let's remember those soldiers
And the hell they are going through
Praise them when they get home
For all they've done for me and you
Let's remember those soldiers
And their families they left behind
Should you know some of these families
Try and treat them a little more kind
Let's remember those soldiers
They are fighting for our rights
Before you go to sleep tonight
Say a prayer for them tonight
Let's remember those soldiers
And let them know that we care
But for the grace of God
We might be the ones over there
Let's remember those soldiers
And let's wish them all the best
May they all make it back home
So we all can get some rest
Let's remember those soldiers
Even ones from wars of the past
Though some are dead and gone
Let's make sure their memories last
Let's remember those soldiers
And docs and nurses in those camps
Taking care of the wounded
Let's put their faces on postage stamps
Let's remember those soldiers
And not just count them as a loss
For they are truely the ones
That pay the ultimate cost
wrote 3/7/2008 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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I shall never forget the despair and agony on the parents' faces on the awful day of the funeral when the 13 little children, victims not only of John D. Rockefeller, but of the government of the state of Colorado were buried.
quote by Ella R. Bloor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reborn...
Alone in a quiet dark space I sit
My arms wrapped around my nakedness
Surveying my hopes, my dreams and all I have become
My thoughts lay broken like the shards of a shattered mirror
Surrounding me in a sea of fractured hope
Afraid my mind might splinter from the agony
Yet the pain subsides, the agony lessens
Like a jigsaw I reassemble all the pieces
The agony and pain turn to hope and joy
All of my wounds healed I pick myself up from the floor
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes
Grazed and scarred, yet far stronger than before
Mind at ease, heart healed, tortured soul at rest
I am stronger, and ready to face the challenges of life...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
No matter how many times life knocks us down,
we are pre-programmed to get up and carry on...
It is quite simply what makes us so unique...
The challenges of life can only make us stronger...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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The first dragon (sestina)
They went to find a thing that belched fire
a killer, a dragon what could it be?
To defeat it, to win they did aspire,
to set the people from its terror free,
it was huge as it could never tire
and where it went, there was only agony.
Those brave humble men were of all fear free
were like a mighty force that did aspire
to make men godly, as t no man should be,
to snatch from that beast it’s devouring fire
and to bring to it just death and agony
and in this quest they would not tire.
Yet all of the great brave men do aspire
to in the unknown find knowledge free
to test skill against the beast and to tire
to measure if plans full of follies be,
later to chance, to fight using its fire,
even in using if there is only agony.
They wanted the truth of its power to be free,
free to use in destruction like the strange fire
that came from heaven that fell in agony
that has the capacity to even gods to tire,
they constructed weapons that should be
the main goal to which warriors do aspire.
It may that other men could easily tire
of this overwhelming quest whose worth could be
not lovely high things, to which to aspire,
nor a guiding light sparkling over the free
but quenching of life by its terrible fire,
with it only acts of death and agony.
Then like destiny, which doomed in agony,
like the first discoverers of divine secret fire,
the beast would rise and in raving anger be
really ruthless and from tricks it will not tire,
its intimate knowledge would not come free,
to seek power in which men as fools aspire.
In pride anything to be, finishing foes with fire
while endlessly to be free they do aspire
while men tire in wars only breeding agony.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Agony
Am I gonna be alright?
No, I'm not gonna be alright
nothin' is alright now
am i gonna see the sun come up?
or am i goin' down?
'cause everyday i'm here
all i feel is sheer
agony
Friends tellin' me
that maybe i need
some pychiatric help
yeah, they're always so quick to tell you
just how to get on with it
I look into the mirror
and all i see is ancient fear
and agony
If i could just remember what it was like
when i was younger
oh, the joy and happiness
replaced with hunger
and all i've got to show
for the seeds that didn't grow
is agony
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War Is Our Worlds History
I Look into a history book.
And what do I see?
Pain and agony, death and suffering,
I see history that tells a lot about our world.
War!
Our world's history is war.
It is the pain and agony, the death and the suffering,
I see large fields of dead bodies,
I see our heritage being destroyed by other people
because it is not what they believe in,
I see people begging for mercy, but they do not get it
instead they get a bullet in the head.
In our history I see many mistakes in which we can learn from,
but we obviously we do not.
They say not to judge a book by its cover,
to me this quote means nothing to our history.
Our history is our cover,
and the book is filled with pain and agony, death and suffering.
Plain and Simple
War!
poem by Christian Cervantes
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In The Face Of A Tornodo
this pain
raises and falls
in this heaving bosom
this agony
rages and rages
in this fiery heart
this longing
settles and unsettles
this body and spirit
this pain
this agony
this longing
all together hit me
as a tornodo at times
it's then the body goes about
like a dangling empty sack down
the shoulders of a beggar, roaminging in vain,
with a heart heavier, and belly and spirit emptier
14jan2010
02.40hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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X-Ray Into Soul Screaming
a cat scan seen through
mystic seeing eyes of a cat
whispering secret ages
an x-ray into heart mind in flux
chaos despairing turbulent emotions
screaming heart storm twisted
in knifed gutted agony
great erupting sorrow
epic bile unhappiness
can cause shock profound
withering acceleration;
illnesses sicknesses aging
heartache turning
dark hair white over night
witness seen such
sorrow resolute reckless
determined in laying waste
flesh rendered waste dregs
evidence withers body soul case
container suddenly life force emptied
impaled leeched dissipated void
happiness is indeed an exceptionally
powerful potent miraculous medicine;
heart remains hidden organ random
deepen primeval agony pour in precise pain
raw emotion rends burns heart soul brain
dross expunged intense agony acid infusion
catalyst purifies agony of boiling tears bled
drowns visions surge heart must realized see
x-ray radiates body invasive storm eye blind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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O Father
Thus, upon the ground did my body walk
and across the lands did it roam and talk
but O father of my tearing eyes tell me now
what happened to the earth and my old folk
Did my heart astray alone in the darkest way
or did my humble soul denied to remain and stay
but O father of my crying heart tell me then
what happened to the earth and the old way
I see as if my eyes got dropped down on the cheek
or it may be like my sorrows and agony reaching a peak
but O father of my broken back in the dusty past
what happened to the earth that I used to seek
By my own hands my blood did I share freely
in the tubs of wisdom in the rage of the daily
but O father where did my blood now astray
what happened to the earth of the lovely
O father my body got the agony now and then
and my soul tired of roaming and the time is when
O father the time is here and it came to me
where I can raise up and roar outside the den
O father, who was my father through in time
how I wonder what you are and how am I
but O father no time is left to say no time
verily, that's my tomb here, and then I, to goodbye
poem by Taher Shemaly
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Grey Day
When I get home its late at night,
Im black and bloody from my life,
I havent time to clean my hands,
Cuts will only sting me through my dreams.
Its well past midnight as I lie
In a semi-conscious state.
I dream of people fighting me
Without any reason I can see.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
After eating I go out,
People passing by me shout.
I cant stand this agony
Why dont they talk to me?
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can There Be A Title?
we laugh
we weep
strangers to ourselves
in the puddle
wearing a garland of hope
a crown of thorns
a moment of agony
unfathomable
the depth of destiny
refuge in one another's agony!
a saga of suffering
a smile thrown here and there
ah, in installments
drain traces of life!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Something is Better than Nothing
After a long time
He wrote me a letter of warmth
It came a tad too late
To do its intended effect.
Didn’t melt me down
Sent shivers thru me?
No way!
Nothing no more
Excites me about him.
May be, I’ve got over him
May be the pain is so much
Perennial and everlasting…
That it has swallowed up
All the love -
Like the gigantic waves
Of the gluttonous Tsunami.
In this letter of warmth
Did I see the word ‘Romantic’?
I thought the sky has fallen over
Seeing such words from a man
So cold and frozen before
That it all seems so surreal.
Did he not tell me that
All my suffering is caused
By me and me alone
Nobody to blame.
He? Never, ever!
Giving a clean chit to himself
In all what he said and did to me.
And did he not label my lamentations
As mere, feeble acts of self-pity?
It is so true that when it happens
To others, you can put so many
Labels to make them feel
The problem is so much theirs
They to blame, they the cause,
They the ‘actors’ of agony.
And now when he talks of
His state of being down and out
So much so that he doesn’t like to
Go to work as before…
Feels like staying at home
Forever more…
I don’t question further
Who to blame.
Remembering the times
He left me stranded
When I needed him the most.
I don’t even broach self-pity
For unlike me,
He could be in ‘real’ agony.
No, I don’t even go all out
To give him warm hugs of
Care and Concern
For I don’t feel any warmth
Whatsoever…
As that ‘Apu’ which he calls me
In this letter of his,
Has frozen long back
In his icy coldness of the past.
Instead, I write him an inspiring
Story and send in some good music
To uplift him.
With all the pain pulsating in me…
I still manage to give him something.
And as they say, that at least
Something is Better than Nothing.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Just let Go
I knew of torment once
so long ago, was that me back then
suffering in pain, I was forced to do things
I could never remember
I was forced to be someone
outside of my own
I don’t like to say
or remember back then
how it hurt me to even just breath
the agony you feel the pain unreal
how can a child bear witness
to this torment and pain
to be torn into two
like a rag doll of old
the memories are real
they made me a women of today
but to block out the terror
the screams and hands
that lay waste to my soul
its more than I can bare
its more than I can say
how to make you understand
the innocence of a child
taken from them without remorse
without regret and the child not knowing
she was too young to know
of the horrors drawn from her that day
not understanding she would live
she would breath only to live her life
like a zombie instead
but the torture of living
and breathing each day
was something she learned
alone in the dark never really knowing
all she had to do was reach out and touch
loved ones and friends
So where do you say
you know agony and pain
have you lived through a year
of torture and pain
Have you been held so tight
you can’t breathe you can’t move
you move to your left your crushed real tight
you move to your right your crushed tighter still
then a hand covers mouth
stopping you to scream or shout
then hear every day don’t tell or be dead
I’ve walked away from this memory of old
and I've learnt to be strong
and just let it go
poem by Kaila George
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There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.
quote by Maya Angelou
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
quote by Maya Angelou
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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