Nihilism 2011
it could be humiliating because
we claim a space
and there is nothing actually reserved for us
to sit or stand
in fact, there are no reservations because there is nothing to reserve
and because there is no one there
who makes
the reservation that we have always imagined
in our minds....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
I Have Reserved Time to Write This; Why?
I sat in the nature reserve
Watching the animals playing football
I was just a reserve
Not in the first eleven
I had a seat in the theatre reserved
I watched the play unfold
I not an actor I’m too reserved
I’m in the audience where I belong
I was called up by the army
Served before; but they wanted me to re-serve
I was playing tennis; the ball went wide
They made me re-serve
Reserve your energy
Reserve your nerve
Keep your humour in reserve
Keep your reserve in reserve
I reserve the right to say you asked me to write this
And I have kept the best in reserve
You will have to reserve an appointment
With a proper poet after you’ve read this
An anagram of reserve
Is reverse
I wish I could reverse time
Then I wouldn’t have wrote this
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Imagined
Imagined the world described as heaven
Imagined the world all is even
Imagined everywhere without evil
Imagined the absence of soldier only civil
Imagined a quest between good nature existence
Imagined people, place and body with no cause for defence
Imagined air, love, soul and all virtues show their face
Imagined the extinction of all the different race
Imagined we always praise him who live above
Imagined nature ruffs all calm like pure dove
Imagined that you are not imagining
But all this is happening
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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In recent years, the choice of drugs on these reservations and throughout my district has been methamphetamines. It has destroyed the rule of law among the reservation people. It is killing our tribal youth in this country.
quote by Rick Renzi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Running On Reserve...(raw, For Edit/revision)
we've been together for so long...
know which route we always take...
when the rains blur our windshields
and the sun heat our seats...
we sleep atop the moon bathed hill...
on beaches with calming waves...
roamed each road we never planned to take
but never we have felt before...
we are running on reserve...
we just cannot tell...
because we are running on reserve
our ride could not end well...
we are running on reserve
we are running on reserve...
we are running on reserve...
a red light keep flashing unnoticed
each bump were too much to take
we are running on reserve
so our end, we cannot tell...
the headlights are dim,
the horns shout making us deaf
the brakes push automatically
we are running on reserve...
and we near our end
poem by Albert Arsenio Sison
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Music For Your Soul
Music; Her caress.
Makes me feel comforted.
Music; Her love.
Makes me feel wanted.
Music; Her kiss.
Makes me feel stronger.
Music; Her drug.
Makes me feel further from life.
Music; Her own brand of alcohol.
Makes me feel drowned in comfort.
Music; Her gun.
Makes me feel my thoughts blasted out of my head.
Music; Her pain.
Makes me feel what others feel.
Music; Her ice cold.
Makes me feel as lonely as space.
Music; Her heat.
Makes me feel impassioned.
Music; Our connection.
Makes us feel as one.
~Osayamen.E Simon~ Copyright ©
All rights and privileges reserved by author
poem by Osayamen Evbuomwan
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Reservations
How can I convince you its me I dont like
And not be so indifferent to the look in your eyes
When Ive always been distant
And Ive always told lies for love
Im bound by these choices so hard to make
Im bound by the feeling so easy to fake
None of this is real enough to take me from you
Oh Ive got reservations
About so many things
But not about you
I know this isnt what you were wanting me to say
How can I get closer and be further away
From the truth that proves its beautiful to lie
Ive got reservations
About so many things
But not about you
Ive reservations
About so many things
But not about you
Not about you
Not about you
Not about you
Not about you
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Poem In Here
this is a blank space reserved for an obituary of a dead poem
prose claims a space though in another glossy page.
plese turn to the next page
those non-poets like me please transfer to another room
this place is for dead poems for those who killed living poems this page this space is reserved for all of them.
we non-poets are moving out to another empty page
about to be added, if you can wait, mr. poet...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A demon, reservation
Gathered in the scorching sun
Wet with perspiration
Throats are dried up due to the stress of raising slogans
They are demanding reservation for their people
Their leaders are crying hoarse in their favour or
To get themselves in the lime-light
The demon of reservation is eating up
The country like white ants
Reservation is the bier of ability and skill
It brings inferiority among the deserved
For the share of their fortune is transferred
To the undeserved
It kills the instinct of competition
Reservation is not a fair step in the way of
The upliftment of downtrodden
or underprivileged
Our motto must be
'Liberty, equality, and fraternity'
We should provide equal opportunity of development
To all without any distinction.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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I therefore claim to show, not how men think in myths, but how myths operate in men's minds without their being aware of the fact.
quote by Claude Levi-Strauss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without A Need For Others To Interpret
You claim to know what it is that you 'see'?
And still allow yourself to disrespect it?
Either you don't know it for what it is...
Or,
Your perception of it is not grounded on fact.
You claim to know what it is that you 'see'?
And still allow yourself to disrespect it?
Either you don't know it for what it is...
Or,
Your perception of it is not grounded on fact.
And perceptions not ground on fact,
Could eliminate what you thought you had...
For someone else to appreciate,
With a knowing what it is that they have!
Without a need for others to interpret.
'Hang in there! '
No. YOU hang in there.
That's your expertise.
I have a life to live with doings to be pursued.
With no intentions to swing in the wind.
Or be linked to a ball and chain.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Waiting
Magdalen’s grounds
are full of life,
full of space.
Space, which is mown
and cleared,
tended and enclosed,
its waterways unchoked,
brown and sparkling clear.
It is home to ducks
and coots,
to dragonflies and deer.
Grass and paths and gates
and streams
and yesterday’s undergraduates
are waiting.
Not for the return of the past
nor the coming of an awaited future.
The past once gone
is a steadily fading photograph.
The future, once conceived,
is never as imagined.
No. They wait
for someone
with an empty heart
to play his part
without reluctance
or reserve;
to acknowledge
all this labour
of hand and eye
and the genius of the green and living.
To see
and bless
it all
and say, “Yes! ”
Then it can all begin,
the breathing out of being,
the eternal sigh,
the letting go at last
and surrender
to the sleep
of not being planned,
of not having to remember,
of not having to hold apart
future and past.
Of being at peace again.
poem by Brian Taylor
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We find it hard to apply the knowledge of ourselves to our judgment of others. The fact that we are never of one kind, that we never love without reservations and never hate with all our being cannot prevent us from seeing others as wholly black or white.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strong Woman
I wonder what makes a woman strong,
To hold us for nine long month,
And stand the pain of our arrival.
I wonder what makes a woman strong,
To stand the insults hurled each day,
To stand the oppression and stand the blame.
I wonder what makes a woman strong,
To keep a smile after an insult,
And make love like all was fine.
I wonder what makes a woman strong,
To wake each morning the past forgotten,
I just wonder what makes a woman strong.
poem by Macwolls Kay
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A Reminder
we claim no expertise
for this
we are not famous
neither shall we be at
all at any time
on the page of history
we assert no name
we are in fact nameless
we claim no right to a home
in fact we are nothing but freelance
hopeless romantics
insistent fanatics as you dislike us
writing about our
failures
we are here
not for anything else
we do not need any
eulogies that will last a lifetime
of mention
we do not go for
epitaphs
no tombstone
we are here because you are here
we talk.
we are here because we are hurt.
we simply express what we feel.
do not bother. we know where we are going.
do not give us importance. We are used
to our being trivial.
we are used to be used.
we are irrelevant with our syntax
we shall fail you
do not mind us.
we know how to exist.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Primal Death
Space
Time
Space
Travel
Raining
Ai ming
Space
Time
Space
Expanding
Un iting
Increasing
Space
Time
Space
Sweeping
Restraining
Stretching
Space
Time
Space
Wrestling
Throwing
Throwi ng up
Space
Time
Space
Falling
Sinkin g
Overturning
Space
Time
Space
Whi rling
Space
Time
Space
Disturbing
Space
Time
Space
Whirring
Space
Ti me Space
Erring at
Nothing
poem by August Stramm
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Delusional Illusion
Humor is your greatest defense
but the irony has had a bitter influence—
it’s turned compassion inside out
renting more space to doubt.
A heart’s reserved for a lover’s voice
not the angry guilt of sour ploys.
Under the guise a constant lacks—
fallen beneath clandestine cracks.
You don’t stand the test of time
situations find the better rhyme.
It wasn’t a long way down is what I’ll report;
in fact the trip was rather short.
Fighting so long to keep out the darkness—
now you’ll never know what you’ve missed.
No one broke you the news:
baby you were born to sing the blues.
One track keeps repeating in your soul—
while it takes a physical toll.
And in your mind the cleverest confusion:
a slowly unfolding delusional illusion.
poem by S./j. Goldner
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Pride In New York City
How could I ever return
When leaving put the past behind me?
Some kinds of love I have no use for,
It would be like searching
In pockets that are empty...
Peering into the one-way glass limousines
I hope to see someone I recognize
While, simultaneously
Someone is shaking coins in cup
Te tell me he is hungry-
Can I be stretched
Between two such worlds?
On the borderline of each
Under the microscope of publicity
And the indifference of police...
Do those who have succeeded before me
Know to abuse the bondage of poverty?
The freezing action of debt and terror
Is still better than owing personal favor...
Too many out of work- where's the cure
For the destruction of pride?
After it is turned inside
It becomes a character flaw
And everybody tries to hide
What they presume to be humiliating
But it is just the prejudice
That makes it unbearable....!
When you wake up in the morning
Thinking about what you have to do
Or what you ought to be doing
You can never really grasp what has passed
In the hours spent revitalizing
The sub-conscious memory...
And though you take substance
From the world you know,
This is not what really refreshes You...
©All Rights Reserved-2011
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Man must at all costs overcome the Earth's gravity and have, in reserve, the space at least of the Solar System.
quote by Konstantin Tsiolkovsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Il Sogno
To love in a way that is extraordinary takes courage, takes selflessness, and strength.
To believe in something that everyone says is impossible.
To fight for the one thing that makes your heart pound inside of your chest and makes life worth living.
To erase from your mind the stigmas, labels, judgments, and discrimination of those who's minds and hearts have yet to know what love truly is.
And to become more than you ever thought or imagined you could be, to be transformed in a way that you never thought imaginable, by THE ONE you never thought you would meet.
to understand that to love and be loved is a gift and something worth cherishing. To protect and respect it. To conserve it and nourish it, to own it in every moment of every day.
You and Her, Her and You.
Simply the DREAM.
poem by Under A Microscope
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Caught
Is it she who you see when you are dreaming
Or are your words empty as you are scheming
Your voice is monotone when you call her name
Your smile does not reach your eyes as you claim
I notice that your reactions are non-committal
Your excuses are frequent asking for acquittal
Your manner is nonchalant when you call her
And you stand your grounds with connoisseur
She is my friend and she deserves protection
So I will scrutinize your moves and rejections
I am not clear why you are stringing her along
Using her kindness and doing her all wrong
The weekends you reserve for your friends
And when she is sad you act as making amends
But you are playing while she really trusts you
Just be aware that I know and follow through
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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