Litters Of The Mind
these as are all litters of the mind
it has the capacity to produce them
and they accumulate and some are beginning to stink
like the famous shit.
these are all the garbage that you read
and you think you feel so cured about them.
they're written, these are acts of throwing them all away
in the different pages of history.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Live in the Loneliness Of Ourselves (For Alfred Kazin- Critic)
We live in the loneliness of ourselves (For Alfred Kazin Critic)
We live in the loneliness of ourselves
We try to read
The world as our own.
But most deeply we know
We too are idiosyncracies-
Time passes
Lifetimes of meaning accumulate
But still on our own
Turning the pages
The book we have written
In our reading
Is inexplicable and unknown
Even to ourselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pages Of My Mind
Faces from my past flicker
through the pages of my mind
along with shadowy figures
I wish I had left behind.
Old loves and new loves
smile and say hello as they pass
through the pages of my mind.
They come in quiet moments
when I am at peace with the world.
Reflecting images of times left behind.
There are no future images,
as those pages haven’t been written yet,
only ones from a distant past.
They stroll across with happy moments
written on the pages of my mind.
11 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written In Red!
Pages of history of man kind
Are written red,
Those who thought their blood,
As blue as sky or as blue as deep ocean,
Wrote the pages in Red and every page is full of bloodshed!
Hungry people weep for even glass of water,
And even for that they had blood to shed,
Innocent plants or innocent grass die,
When two elephants fight for supremacy!
They never care how many innocent may die!
Great heroes are made on the number of men they despatch to hell,
Saying patriots have heaven in their fight!
They are heroes like matadors at the cost of blood of an innocent bull!
Otherwise they are as you and me except that cruelty,
Men the made several men to shed blood, in the name of woman,
May it be sita, may it be Padmini
Or may be Helen of Troy,
All men were treated like toys
By a that a few mad boys,
To have their woman back,
Or defend their action,
All religions have their history written in red,
May it be books that are from God,
Stained with red, God signed it with blood,
Put the rubber stamp of quality with bone and flesh,
Every nation is having its own fountain of blood shed!
power hungry need only to shed crocodile tears,
Or just present awards and reward,
Those who safeguard
and died to save them!
May it be Ashoka, may it be Idi Ameen
or may be Churchil, or may be Gandhi,
Or may Lincoln or Changez Khan
Only they were famous due blood shed!
May it be history of continent or that sub continent
Only a story written in blood, On human skin and with bones as pens!
May it be any ' -ism ' or may
Politics in spain or Britain,
Equally dangerous are these..
Power or woman,
Ambition or nation,
Whether terrorist or counter terrorist venture
Police or politician,
Every history of massive wealth,
Or a piece of land
Religion or culture, blood is That red ink with pages of history is written only in red!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Choices...
he never wished
to be just another contributor
of ugliness
to this world,
in fact, he
wants to be another
great artist
to convert all trash
into a beautiful
magnum opus
to cover all shit
in one huge can
and bury it on
earth
to hide all evil
back in Pandora's box
obviously, another
mission impossible
it is easier this way
let shit be shit
and let beauty be beauty
let them thrive
and let us see who wins
this drive
meanwhile, let us sit
and relax,
we shall just be the
gods and
if not
at least be judges
or jury
or
just another garbage
collector.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Few will have the greatness to bend history itself; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total; of all those acts will be written the history of this generation.
quote by Robert Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is All Around (Athens Studio)
The Troggs)
I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes
Love is all around me and so the feeling grows
It's written on the wind, it's everywhere I go
So if you really love me, come on and let it show
You know I love you I always will
My mind's made up by the way that I feel
There's no beginning, there'll be no end
'Cause on my love you can depend
I see your face before me, as I lay on my bed
I kinda get to thinking of all the things we said
You gave a promise to me, and I gave mine to you
I need someone beside me in everything I do
You know I love you I always will
My mind's made up by the way that I feel
There's no beginning, there'll be no end
'Cause on my love you can depend
It's written on the wind, it's everywhere I go
So if you really love me, come on and let it show
Come on and let it show
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Did You Understand It?
You've written something with several typographical errors.
And I question the correctness of your language usage.
Plus it had been written in mixed tenses.
I read it more than once.
And after the third reading it finally dawned on me,
You may have done this intentionally.
'Did you understand it?
What it was I tried to do? '
I'm not sure.
'How would you critique it? '
I don't know if I can.
'And you read it three times? '
At least.
'Why should I bother to correct it?
If 'you' read something I wrote...
THREE times?
And you have never expressed any interest before?
In anything I've ever done?
Why should I correct it?
This is the first time you and I have communicated,
In years.
Who knew...
All it took was a few errors,
To get you to give me what I have been wanting.
Here...
Read this! '
Your first and third lines rhyme.
But the rest of it...
Well,
I think this is a bunch of garbage.
'Thank you.
And all this time,
You had me believing...
You didn't care.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Y... Garbage Man
Become a garbage man
Every day, just for a minute
Search for some litter
Pick up some garbage
Where ever you can
Don't stoop down.
Not good for the back
Just sit on your heels
Stay squatted and look up
It gives you a special perspective
Pick up a hand full
Walk to the bin
Not the nearest
The walking is exercise
Good for your body
So, become a garbage man
It can give you perspective
It is good for your body
It is good for the world
Just a hand full per day.
-
Note:
Garbage men really deserve ou full respect.
I got the idea to write this piece when I was picking up a handful of garbage from the beach. I thought if there more people picking up garbage than people throwing garbage, littering would no longer be a problem.
I hope in this poem there is nothing disrespectful of garbage men. They really do a great job en deserve our respect as much as doctors and lawyers deserve our respect (as indicated in the comments by unwritten soul below)
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Bad Habits & Infections
Come to me like Im the doctor
Say you need someone to talk ta
You want advice go ask your mother
One bad turn deserves another
cause Ive been cursed with your infection
Makin my head hurt makin my eyes burn
Youve taken me in the wrong direction
And left me there with no protection
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Maybe youll find a friend up in the
Rainbow room
If you can dodge the drinks that
Theyve been throwing at you
Anyway, your boyfriend should be
Coming home soon
Then you can hide your life away
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
I am the doctor
I am the doctor
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Paper Rose
Each time pen and line
brush the page
it is with you in mind;
all these years
you've been
reader to my writer-
you and I
giving life
to what starts as
mere blank pages-
and end as
our shared experience.
I can feel you;
hear you breathing
and lay
down each
night
renewed
for you have
read
between my lines
written and
I
received
your resonances
come back
to my ear-
these reciprocities
tracking
the journey
we each
together
have taken-
our lines entwining.
No greater bond
than the bond
of reader and that written;
no love more timeless
than that shared
in the missive
shaped
by two
interchanging
in this journey
through
life's space.
No gratitude greater
than mine.
Capture here then
to be clear
the
paper rose
this writing
is
because
its lines form
a rose
which will
last
down the years
forever read
forever written.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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History why do we care
History
a famous person dies
History
a war rages
History
a new invention
History
a building opens
History
what happens if something happens to me
is that history?
no....
So why do we care.....
poem by Andrea Thepoet
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A Happy Ending
i cannot always be a new
broom that must sweep well
your old floors
please take note of this
i cannot always be your new
broom that must sweep well
your garbage floors
please take note of this
time will make me an old broom
and you my dirty and old floor
overladen with scratch papers and
pens with dried inks and litters
and crumpled newspapers and torn
fashion pages scattered on your rough
floors,
time makes me a old, dirty broom
and now, ruined and stained, we shall
stay together, we now belong to each
other
please take note of this happy ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let Us Go Backwards
Lesbians and homosexuals,
Come to Ghana and you will meet them;
And, go out of Ghana and, you will meet them as well!
But, have we forgotten about the pages of history? ! !
Then, let us go backwards to the days of Sodom and Gomorrah;
And read about what they did! ! !
And of the punishments thereafter from the Creator;
For, the truth is written plainly for us to understand.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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History is an orphan. It can speak but cannot hear. It can give but cannot take. Its wounds and tragedies can be read and known but cannot be avoided or cured.
quote by Kedar Joshi
Submitted by anonym
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Lucifer's Eulogy
Cast out from heaven
hardly, I think
of man's creation
you surely do stink
not from the mind
or eye's of the god's
but scapegoat for humans
and unable to define
their cruelty tho unkind
Devil, my sympathy
you have-
greatness, you have not
but man's garbage
poem by Reverend Doom
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Written In Blood And Love
In pages written in blood, in pages written love.
Stories are told of you grow old together.
Live to dieing forever.
Scarred by the pain of misery.
Scarred by the imperfections the have created so many rejections.
Give me the antidote to the poison that I have slipped in my own drink.
Let me breath the life in again.
Drowned out all the cowardliness of my angel who holding me up.
Such a beautiful crutch.
Still in the pages written in blood, in the pages written love.
We are just one of millions.
Every story is the same.
All that's changed is the names, places, and faces.
Erase it all.
Rewrite the entire fall.
Let the wind take me.
Let the lightning strike me here and now.
For i will not let it cloud my judgement.
No matter the storm that's brought on.
In the pages written in blood, in the pages written in love
Hate me for the right reasons
Hate me because I am what you wanted me to be.
In all the irony.
I didn't change for you.
It was done way before you came along and sang your song.
All the pages have been written, in blood and love.
The Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet to the fullest.
Its the cruelest games in tragedy strikes without a ounce of leniency.
No mercy to those who are jumping without a life line.
Protection against the evil of an accident so quick.
A slip becomes a fall.
Next your trying to stall buy a little time.
But its in vain.
Nothing can be changed.
Its sink or swim till you reach shore.
So long off stripped of everything you thought was important.
Values so mixed up in these pages written in blood, in the pages written in love.
We have killed another pair of doves.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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0102 This is a disposable poem
This is a disposable poem.
Under each stanza
is a perforated line
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you may read it stanza by stanza
and throw away each as you read
or having it read it through,
shorten it stanza by stanza
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
since many poems on this site
benefit from curtailing
because amateur poets
tend to be uncertain
about their work
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
and as a result either repeat
the essence of their poem at the end
or comment on it which takes
the power out of it
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you might want to save that
previous stanza but as for
the other stanzas, here’s
a suggestion
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
enjoy being a critic and
dispose of them with a flourish
in one of these ways
certainly not both for reasons
which will become apparent
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
one method is to place
a waste-paper basket so called
at an optimum distance
far enough away to enjoy throwing
the ball of scrunch-up
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
but near enough not to miss;
do it with a flourish,
feel good, feel judgmental,
feel superior, feel right
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
or alternatively take this disposable poem
into the smallest room to read
for as long as it takes, this varies,
then put it behind you so to speak
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
again with a decisive gesture
though of course due care and
you may wish to accompany this
with some rather biblical utterance
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
such as, I shit in judgment upon
the works of the ungodly
and as for the works of the infidel
I put them behind me
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
and they shall be carried away
by the waters of righteousness yea
as though they had never been
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
aaah that felt good
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Perhaps the strongest evidence that women have as broad and deep a capacity for physical aggression as men is anecdotal. And as with men, this capacity has expressed itself in acts from the brave to the brutal, the selfless to the senseless.
quote by Katherine Dunn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moments of My Life
My life,
I now feel,
is fully covered
by white fog,
the dark white fog
of the sad moments
I faced in my life;
the moments
We spent together.
Now I feel
all pages of
my life
have become white
and the
ink used by The Writer
of my life
also became white.
I think,
here after,
no one
can read
the The Moments of My Life.
Written by Him with white ink
on the white pages.
poem by Ravindra Koshti
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