the world of Eli
i am in a world
where i am the only one
walking
no one speaks to me
and i have seen
no one
no shadow, no hint that
somewhere over there there must be another creature
a butterfly
or a little bird
or perhaps a fish
or a pebble
or perhaps a sprouting bean
it gets lonely
when one speaks only to himself
because the rest have taken the stances
of being gone into nowhere
without a location
i am in this world
too big for me
soundless, empty,
i am in the world of
Eli.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Father's World
This is my Father's world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker's praise.
This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.
This Is My Father's World
...as sung by Amy Grant
This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father's world: why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!
This is my Father's world: He shines in all that's fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The God speaks
Macbeth speaks; Hamlet speaks.
We say Shakespeare speaks.
Krishna speaks to Arjuna.
We don’t say Vyasar speaks.
21.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Where I Belong
OOH THE WORLD MY SOUL HAVE LOVED TO BE
THE WORLD WHERE MY SOUL SOLD
THE WORLD MY SOUL SAW
THE WORLD WHERE MY SOUL SPEAKS SPEECHES
OF WISDOM
OF INSPIRATION TO INFLUENCE OTHER SOULS.
THIS IS THE WORLD WHERE THERE ARE NO ANY
DISCRIMINATIVE ANTAGONIST IS WHERE I BELONG.
I HAVE LOVED THIS WORLD AND SO PASSIONATE ABOUT IT
I CAN CONTINUE TO SPEAK ALL ABOUT THIS WORLD WITHOUT
COMING TO AN END, FOR I HAVE GOT A LOT TO SPEAK ABOUT THIS WORLD.
AM SPEAKING MY REASON FOR LOVING THIS WORLD, BUT NOT MAKING A RIDDLE.
ALL I THINK O F IS ABOUT THIS WORLD,
ALL I SPEAK IS ALL ABOUT THIS WORLD,
ALL I WISH TO LEAVE FOR, IS ABOUT THIS WORLD
INDEED IT HAS BEEN AND WILL FOREVER BE
A WORLD OF GREAT LEGENDS
THE WORLD I BELONG TO IS NO OTHER,
BUT THE WORLD OF POETRY.
I LOVE POETRY.
poem by Benjamin Dotse
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Mad world
In a mad world
Light always breeds greater darkness
In a mad world
Only silence speaks the truth
In a mad world
Echoes of benignity and hatred
Travel still
Where there is no rift
Between hope and despair
In a mad world
One dreams of its life
And lives on its dreams
In a mad world
Ghosts in flesh and bones
Seek immortality
While ethereal Gods
Wander in vain
In a mad world
Time has mislaid the hours
In a mad world
Red-tailed hawks sink
In the sky
In a mad world
The moon sometimes
Mourns the days
In a mad world...
In a mad world
Only the mad are sane...
poem by Damabiah 777
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Little Yellow Butterfly
Oh, liitle yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and let your shadow
fill the empty wall
as I watch closely
till I fall asleep.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and change the color of my life
with your tiny yellow wings.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
I have prepared flowers for you
so you can stay with me
without being lonely.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Thy World
Thy world is mine also
And is full of love
Thy world is worth a lot to me
Because I enjoy so much living in thy world
Thy world is full of energy
And you give some of that energy from thy world to me
Thy world is full of spring water
And I go and get some spring water from thy world to drink
Thy world is full of fish to fish
So I go and fish the fish from thy world
So that I can eat some fish with your bread
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Looking, Walking, Being
"The World is not something to
look at, it is something to be in."
Mark Rudman
I look and look.
Looking's a way of being: one becomes,
sometimes, a pair of eyes walking.
Walking wherever looking takes one.
The eyes
dig and burrow into the world.
They touch
fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor.
World and the past of it,
not only
visible present, solid and shadow
that looks at one looking.
And language? Rhythms
of echo and interruption?
That's
a way of breathing.
breathing to sustain
looking,
walking and looking,
through the world,
in it.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Ugliest Girl In The World
The woman that I love she got a hook in her nose
Her eyebrows meet, she wears second hand clothes
She speaks with a stutter and she walks with a hop
I dont know why I love her but I just cant stop
You know I love her
Yeah I love her
Im in love with the ugliest girl in the world
If I ever lose her I will go insane
I go half crazy when she calls my name
When she says babababababy I l-l-love you
There aint nothing in the world that I wouldnt do
You know I love her
Yeah I love her
Im in love with the ugliest girl in the world
The woman that I love she got two flat feet
Her knees knock together walking down the street
She cracks her knuckles and she snores in bed
She aint much to look at but like I said
You know I love her
Yeah I love her
Im in love with the ugliest girl in the world
I dont mean to say that she got nothing goin
She got a weird sense of humor thats all her own
When I get low she sets me on my feet
Got a five inch smile but her breath is sweet
You know I love her
Yeah I love her
Im in love with the ugliest girl in the world
The woman that I love she a got a prizefighter nose
Cauliflower ears and a run in her hose
She speaks with a stutter and she walks with a hop
I dont know why I love her but I just cant stop
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thus speaks the star
Thus speaks the star
Leave them asleep
Thus speaks the star
Buried the past
Thus speaks the star
Go for fresh start
Thus speaks the star
Life is our and our
Thus speaks the star
Be optimistic and go far.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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When Bryan Speaks
When Bryan speaks, the town's a hive.
From miles around, the autos drive.
The sparrow chirps. The rooster crows.
The place is kicking and alive.
When Bryan speaks, the bunting glows.
The raw procession onward flows.
The small dogs bark. The children laugh
A wind of springtime fancy blows.
When Bryan speaks, the wigwam shakes.
The corporation magnate quakes.
The pre-convention plot is smashed.
The valiant pleb full-armed awakes.
When Bryan speaks, the sky is ours,
The wheat, the forests, and the flowers.
And who is here to say us nay?
Fled are the ancient tyrant powers.
When Bryan speaks, then I rejoice.
His is the strange composite voice
Of many million singing souls
Who make world-brotherhood their choice.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Butterfly's Dream
I'm having a butterfly's dream
Sealed off from the real world
Shielded from the storm
Yet I feel at home
Having a butterfly's dream
I'm having a butterfly's dream
Looking out, the world looking in
Imprisoned by nature, all alone
Yet I feel at home
Having my butterfly's dream
I can see the pretty colors come and go
The sun is shining, the moon a glow
I want all that to be a part of me
I want my dreaming to become a reality
I want to feel the fresh ocean breeze
I want to rest on flowers, rest on trees
I want to be part of the world that everybody sees
I feel the light flashing in
The air fills my cocoon all too soon
My wings search to spread towards the sun
And lift me to my new home-All alone
On my own to face the storm
I should have known
A dream is nothing but a dream
poem by Alfred Ramos
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Lonely, lonely life
Lonely, lonely life.
Alone in this world
Without anyone
My heart are empty, lonely
Where is everyone?
It was dark, so dark.
Where is the light?
What has happen to the wonderful world?
The wonderful world has become sad.
Lonely and empty.
poem by Theodora Jane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By the Woods one day
By the woods one day i walked,
until i saw the blue bird making his noise,
in a way that he speaks to us, so wisely,
birds are so into their way, why can't man,
do th same in his ways, so into this world
wrote 11-20-06
My Beautiful World
My Beautiful World is kind
My Beautiful World is sweet
My Beautiful World is nice
My Beautiful World is generous
My Beautiful World is selfless
My Beautiful World has given me everything i need, and then some
I love My Beautiful World, and My Beautiful World loves me
I am the only one on My Beautiful World
But i am not lonely, not in the least bit
My Beautiful World and I have each other
But...there is a problem
My Beautiful World is tired
My Beautiful World is sore
My Beautiful world has wounds and scars
Some will never heal
I do everything i can to help
My Beautiful World wants to explode
and the thing is...
I'm still on My Beautiful World
So if she explodes, I explode with her
It would be an honor to go like that...
But that is not how i want it to end
I want to be on My Beautiful World forever
If you haven't figured it out yet
My Beautiful world isn't a world at all
She is a very special person...
who happens to mean the world to me.
poem by That lil emo kid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Mimicry
one day
you get tired
mimicking the
mynah bird
you only want
it to know your language
and to bait it
with your own style
you mimic it but it does not
learn from your
mimicking and you stop and one day
it looks at you
with pity and it speaks its own language
from the forest, which is
if you listen well enough
sad and lonely
and even dying
it speaks of a desire to be returned
to its own place
it is drawing to you a forest
a dark spot,
a hounding sound of its
niche
one day you
see the light of its night song
a red moon
a drift on the black marsh
and so you take it
and release it from your mimicry
and both of you
are finally free
and the forest is
one happy family
and the cage of your expectations
becomes empty
life has arrived returning back
your own tongue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Money Speaks Every Language
That money speaks every language has often been said before
And what also applies to money is much always wants more
And that moneyed people rule the World is something we all know
The more money they accumulate the more their power does grow.
Compared to those in poverty the millionaires seem few
And in saying that money speaks every language is not saying anything new
For every millionaire there is thousands in poverty
It is money and the lack of it that causes inequality.
That with money speaks every language most surely would agree
That's how it was and that's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
The poor sad pauper of the street to greatness none inspire
It is those who have heaps of money that others do admire.
Their dreams of success and wealth and fame so many do pursue
And that money speaks every language so happens to be true
For the poor of the poor suburb success seems far away
And the gap between the haves and the have nots is widening by the day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To Know The Word of the Spirit Original 01 16 2011
TO KNOW THE WORD
OF THE SPIRIT:
Original 01 16 2011
To know the word as motive
Know that God speaks the nous
Between his will and knowledge
Prerogatives of vision and reason
To know the word as verbal
Know that God speaks transcendent
Nous -to know the word as noun
Know God speaks the tone of you
To know the word as poem read
To know the word as pronoun
Know that god does not speak
Of you god speaks to you
To know the word as adverb
Know that God does not speak
About you God speaks through you
To know the word as adjective
Know that God speaks by you
To know the word as preposition
Know God speaks from the heart
To know the word as poem write
To know the word is off the table
Know that God knows who sops
And all that was [was] forgiven
To know word as free verse
To know the word as parable
Know that God speaks nous
To know that God has spoken
Know pain and pleasure in spirit.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permissions.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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This world will never wait.
Peepers of this world,
Kiss the ass of these words
Aye, for the sake of He that died on the cross
Dump wobbling after the world.
For the world is good at waiting
But he has never waited for one afore
Check out the epoch as the fore
For
The world is like a shadow
Guised in a behemoth silhouette
Yes, the world awaited you
You embrace him
You embrace the silhouette
Checking out the silhouette
What you will see is an empty set
For the world's exactly in a real disguise
The world awaits none
Cos he knows the time is no more prime
Put into shreds your old attire
Sign up with that white empire
For this world shall leave us all
Not all of us shall leave this world.
For it's written
By Him, not by your keen kitten.
poem by Jodekss Gloatkenf
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What's in a bird?
whay's in a bird,
that everybody wants to be
in their second life?
what's in a horse,
that everybody wants to ride
when the bird fails to fly?
what's in a fish,
that everybody wants to have
when the horse gets tired of running?
and, what's in the world,
that everybody wants to...
fly away,
run farther,
and
swim under
just to leave everything behind?
poem by Shadow ...art
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Always Remember My Dear Caterpillar
always remember what the black bird once chirped
that wise bird long buried in the sands and leaves of time
that which angers you
conquers you
that which does not kill you
strengthens you
that which you love
enslaves you
and that which loves you
with fire from her eyes
and cinders from her heart
may soon
make you the most vulnerable
link in the chain
of creation
a caterpillar crawling
in the world of roses
either it soon turns to stone
a pebble or even dust
with no promise of
metamorphosis
once in the life of the
trusting butterfly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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