There Are Thousands And Thousands
there are thousands and thousands of poems
written everyday in this world where we, whether we like it or not,
still continue living, breathing, writing, sighing,
whatever that we do, singing, bathing, playing, mourning,
there are thousands and thousands of poems
thousands of us, doing the same boring things in this world,
you are one of us, we are us, us, us, us,
thousands, and trillions, we are us,
despite, i have my ears for you, my eyes,
all for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faery Song
Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.
We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Gie to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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A Faery Song
i{Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania,}
i{in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.}
WE who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Bells Ringing
bells ringing...
thousands and thousands
of bells.... ringing....
the chorus of crows,
the sound of the whip
cracking on thousands
of backs, , ,
black and white,
brown and red....
the fat-bellied ticket taker
stands with hand outstretched...
cant pay the fare... cant ride....
left standing on the corner
of lost, and nameless.
marching to death, leaving
no trace, no footprints....
the bastard children of freedom,
no home to return to....
look up, look up!
the skies full of wings!
bells are ringing!
thousands and thousands
of bells... and each one
has a name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Last of the thousand kisses
Every thing has a beginning
And every thing that began has an end
Good or bad
Pallatable or otherwise
Joyful or saddening
Things have an end as they had a beginning
Though, most of the times, we know as to
When things began
We do not really know as to
When they are going to end
There is a need for us to be
Prepared for the nemesis
Whether such an end is
Acceptable to us or not
We really do not know
Whether it is the last of the thousand good things we have done
Whether it is the last of the millions of breathes we have taken
Whether it is the last of the billions of beats our heart has performed
Whether it is the last of the thousands of suppers we had
Whether it is the last of the thousands of the tear droplets we shed
Whether it is the last of the thousands of hearty laughters we had
Whether it is the last of the thousands of affectionate hugs we made
Or
Whether it is the last of the thousands joyful intimacies
We had with our life partner
So
Let us enjoy every bit of every thing we do
Let us be involved
Let us be immersed
Let us be lost
Let us be perfect
Let us be self-satisfied
Let us be exciting the beneficiary of our deed
With whatever we do
As if it is the
Last of the thousand kisses
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Poems Flutter
Along each river in thousands are the ditches,
And the dungeons that conceals the objects,
Thousands of things hidden to the human eyes.
Man in fact is a brimming river wide and deep,
Thousands of ditches hide secrets countless;
As pebbles, sand, stones dwell in the bottom,
Covered with the opaque oozy settling layers.
I bring out those pebbles, sand and stones,
To construct, erect the castle with thick walls,
Where nestle themselves poems mysterious,
And often flutter; flap there from one by one.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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I would not give one moment of heaven for all the joy and riches of the world, even if it lasted for thousands and thousands of years.
quote by Martin Luther
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day of Grief
Day is...
Day is not...
The sun
Continues to rise...
And set...
Only to rise again.
Life goes on...
Day in...
Day out...
And yet, somewhere,
Buried deep in my soul,
The tears continue
To fall,
And the pain goes on,
Always and ever,
For those lost souls
Of September 11,
And for the loss
Of the world
As we knew it.
As FDR said about the bombing of Pearl Harbor, at the start of World
War II, 'A day that will live in infamy...' So is the day the Twin Towers
fell, and thousands died...Thousands who planned to go home that night, and yet never had the chance. Thousands who never dreamed their world would end on that day, in that way, became immortal before the setting of the sun, September 11,2001. God rest their souls.
Linda Treat
September 11,2001
poem by Scarlett Treat
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Two- point perspective
Thousands of Jews
Killed
For what reason?
None
Thousands of blacks
Slaves
All because
People are lazy
Racism
The Holocaust
Unfortunately,
All of
Our world’s history
poem by Twisted Rose
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Fast Food Generation
everyday, thousands die
because they canne' afford medicine
yet everyday, thousands o tons
are fed te coo's, poultry and chickens
Third World Governments, hands are tied
by pharmaceutical patent
fur the corporations sue
those wha help, their children
Global capitalism controls
the World Bank and I.M.F
Blackmailing developing countries
privitization, fur cheap loans and credit
yep, we are the Fast Food Generation
living a total lie
indebted, up te oor eyeballs
in television and credit card bide
poem by John Mcleish
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There are thousands and thousands of free programs available for people of any income level.
quote by Matthew Lesko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reading The Poems Of Other People
honestly i should be flattered
why you keep on
following every poem
that i have written
i know how hard it is since
there are thousands and
thousands
of these
posts,
i know what you think
that poems are maps
towards
who i am really
roads that lead to a
city
a rainbow that gives
the myth
that at the end of it
is the
pot of gold
you really flatter me
but what if these are not
maps
or there is no rainbow
of there is no
pot of gold?
what if we have the same
thinking
that there is really no
self
no city
no map
what if there are only
whims
or there is only shame
or death
what if
these are just footsteps
of a lost man
and at the end there
is only a cliff
where the man jumped
and killed
himself
it could be
so horrible
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I love working quickly. I don't like to do thousands of takes, and I don't want to do thousands of set ups.
quote by Sigourney Weaver
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The tragedy of it is that nobody sees the look of desperation on my face. Thousands and thousands of us, and we're passing one another without a look of recognition.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But when I reintroduced the Nation of Islam, and began to host meetings in cities and thousands and thousands of people come out.
quote by Louis Farrakhan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I guess growing up I realized that there is really this huge epidemic in a city like Los Angeles, and many other cities, where they put down thousands upon thousands of animals every day.
quote by Will Estes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no progress whatever. Everything is just the same as it was thousands, and tens of thousands, of years ago. The outward form changes. The essence does not change.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War its thousands slays, Peace its ten thousands.
quote by Beilby Porteus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You don't get to cut that chain of evidence and start over. You're always going to be pursued by your data shadow, which is forming from thousands and thousands of little leaks and tributaries of information.
quote by Bruce Sterling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honesty
Thousands of thousands people
Among the thousands of rows
Waiting for the entry to the show
Of blitz, glamour and corruption.
The first rows are for the VIPs
The middle ones are for the sycophants
As I am neither of them
So my row is the last one.
Front line is for the hypocrites
Middle ones are for the touts
As I am neither of them
So my line is at the end.
I am feeling lonely
And my row is empty
Could you please for few minutes stand with me?
So that I can show you the real delight
Of life in the path of honesty..
poem by Abdul Wahab
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A Death Song
What cometh here from west to east awending?
And who are these, the marchers stern and slow?
We bear the message that the rich are sending
Aback to those who bade them wake and know.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
We asked them for a life of toilsome earning,
They bade us bide their leisure for our bread;
We craved to speak to tell our woeful learning;
We come back speechless, bearing back our dead.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
They will not learn; they have no ears to hearken.
They turn their faces from the eyes of fate;
Their gay-lit halls shut out the skies that darken.
But, lo! this dead man knocking at the gate.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
Here lies the sign that we shall break our prison;
Amidst the storm he won a prisoner's rest;
But in the cloudy dawn the sun arisen
Brings us our day of work to win the best.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
poem by William Morris
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