Be away
Keep no one with you too close or too near.
They would then probe you for your holes and moles.
Big men are big because they are beyond us.
09.07.2004.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
We're moles
we are moles
we are moles
fear lives in our souls
we are moles
we are moles
fear lives in our souls
if you take us out of holes
you will kill us poor moles
so much fear
so much fear
we will die when you get nearer
so much fear
so much fear
we will die when you get nearer
if you take us out of holes
you will kill us poor moles
we are moles
we are moles
fear lives in our souls
we are moles
we are moles
fear lives in our souls
if you take us out of holes
you will kill us poor moles
poem by Max Kuvaev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Match-ball!
Match-ball!
Everywhere;
Match-ball, match, ball, at;
Everywhere!
Miscellaneous,
Cat, hat, hall, ham, call;
Into the clefts of the rocks! !
Holes, moles, ploes, soles;
To the moles and bats!
Exiles,
Exits,
All, mall, tall, mat, bat;
Pastures,
Pictures,
Tab, bam, lam, cam, act, batch;
Kindled,
Justifies!
But, like a flint;
Boles, voles, roles!
At Royal Victoria Place Shopping Centre;
However, it was like a match-ball.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y - hole- 9+2=11
Lucky at this hole.
Watchout - they steal holes.
WHO-WHO-WHO
Not them - them.
Flowing sands-sands-sands and man.
Catch infinite vibes - MAN.
HOLES-HOLES-HOLES
Gone hole insane, hole insane - PAINS.
Peephole, porthole, volcano hole.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
Sells nothing - makes money - SMART.
HOLES FOR SALE
LUCKY, , , bought a hole....SMART.
Donut holes-Bagel holes - *FOR SALE*.
Never thought about holes before.
LUCKY, , , at the, , , , ,11 hole.
LUCKY-LUCKY-LUCKY - 'knows'.
HOLES FOR SALE - {sale day}
SALE DAY - SALE DAY - SALE DAY
HOLES FOR SALE
2/27/2009 Joe Poewhit
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Day's End
Little girls,
You are gay,
Little factory girls,
At the end of your day.
There you stand,
Huddled close,
On the back of a tram,
Having taken your dose.
And you go
Through the gray
And the gold of the streets
At the close of the day,
Blind as moles.
You are crude,
You are sweet, little girls,
And amazingly rude,
But so fine
To be gay.
Gentle people are dull
At the end of the day.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Book Of Black Holes
You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes
You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes
There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes
If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes
Your comments cryptic
Your words haze, eliptic
And like I said goes down
In the book of Black Holes
Your choice to be insipid
Your dreams are timid
Compared to what's collected
In my book of Black Holes
poem by Midnights Voice
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The Hacker
The hacker sets out in deep concentration,
But golf shots soon turn to excavation.
Staring glumly at cavernous divots,
No textbook technique, but reverse pivots.
They endure this torment for eighteen holes,
Feel guilty for all the evicted moles.
Into the clubhouse to glance at the card,
Which has been strangely, by high numbers marred.
poem by Greg Costello
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Move on!
'THE foxes have holes,
And the birds of the air have nests,
But where shall the heads of the sons of men
Be laid, be laid?'
'Where the cold corpse rests,
Where the sightless moles
Burrow and yet cannot make it afraid,
Rout but cannot wake it again,
There shall the heads of the sons of men
Be laid, be laid!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Belgravia by Night
'Move on!'
'THE foxes have holes,
And the birds of the air have nests,
But where shall the heads of the sons of men
Be laid, be laid?'
'Where the cold corpse rests,
Where the sightless moles
Burrow and yet cannot make it afraid,
Rout but cannot wake it again,
There shall the heads of the sons of men
Be laid, be laid!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Crazy Game o' Golf
Tae pick up a stick an' chase a wee ba'
I jist canna see the sense in it ava'
Hittin' a ba' roond a park full o' holes
ye'd think t'wis a new wey tae kill a ' the moles
But they tell me it's golf - it's the "IN" game the noo
It swackens ye up withoot hae' in tae bou'
Bit if yon's meant tae swacken ye? - Hodgin' aboot
Aff o' ae fit on' till't ither, o' this there's nae doot
Yer banes are mair like tae seize up than tae swacken
Bit golfin' freends say "Fresh air is nae lackin'"
"Jist think o't yer lungs are gettin' a treat"
Bit wi' the win' there is here ye'd be blawn aff yer feet
An faur's the fresh air, faur's the sport faur's the tricks
Fin the rain's poorin oot o' the doup o' yer breeks
An' syne come the winter, it's nae eese ava'
Lookin' for holes amon' sax fit o' snaw
So takkin't a' roond, ye'd be better by far,
Tae stick tae the nineteenth - an' bide in the bar!
poem by Frances Jaffray
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It's A Pity
It's a pity that
you can't take off your skin
like an old dress
can't cover the rags
with a smart dress
so that to impress
can't embroidery stitch the holes
made by moles
it's a pity that
you can't pull out your heart
to bask in the sun
can't force it cut and run
from the life of one
can't let your soul
fly in the sky like birds
to defend it from hurts
that's how you go
trying nothing to show
avoiding the turns
keeping scars and burns
anxiety and echoes of doubt
can't speak aloud
being hurt so much
by the occasional touch
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Holes
There's three in the wall from those pictures in the closet
Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it
One deep inside me determined to stay
They don't get any bigger but they don't go away
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
I pour drink after drink but nothing hit bottom
I've been on my knees admitted my problem
The love that we made still barely an echo
I'll try anything in these vacant hollow
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
There's two through my hands and one through my feet
From this cross that I bare to the day that I see
Its guilt and its blame its shame and its love
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holes get filled
Holes in skills, the voice fills them.
Holes in voice, the skill fills them.
Holes in both, the tune fills them.
Holes in all, the figure fills them
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Totalimmortal
Hope unknown
Sometimes just waking is surreal
I walk right through the nameless ones
I know that
Hope's unknown
Sometimes the water feels so real
As I walk through it fills
My lungs, my god, I'm drowning
This day never seems to end
This pain, never
This day never seems to end
This rage I can not let go
Oh, oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
So alone
Sometimes I swear that i can hear
The taunting of the voiceless ones
I fear that
I alone
Fear those who finally cease to feel
That they're alone inside this place
I am the misplaced
This day never seems to end
This pain, never
This day never seems to end
This rage I can not let go
Oh, oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Now every face, it looks familiar
Then every face would melt away until
Now everyone
Do you know
I know your deception
Now every face, it looks familiar
Then every face would melt away until
Now everyone
Do you know
I know your deception
Oh, oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh, oh
Hea
song performed by by Offspring
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Souls and Holes
Value some their souls whole
And wear with pride soles with holes,
Others pierce their souls with holes
And flaunt their fancy soles whole.
Blessed those with souls whole
Wearing with pride soles whole,
Lucky those with holes in souls
Suffering bites of holes in soles.
poem by Vinod Sharma
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Travel Deep Beneath What Is Believed
You've got to give yourself a chance,
To probe your own mind.
And travel deep,
Beneath beliefs!
Before you try to comprehend,
Or take the time to probe mine.
I want to keep,
My privacy unseen.
Because I am not on the surface.
Freely skating,
Or looking for escapes...
To immulate.
Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
Because I don't travel on the surface.
I can be naive,
And free of scandle.
With a tinge of innocence...
That can be thought offensive.
Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
And travel deep,
Beneath what is believed.
You've got to give yourself a chance,
To probe your own mind.
And travel deep,
Beneath beliefs!
Before you try to comprehend,
Or take the time to probe mine.
I want to keep,
My privacy unseen.
Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
And travel deep,
Beneath what is believed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I was 14 -years-old, I made this PowerPoint presentation, and I invited my parents into my room and gave them popcorn. It was called 'Project Hollywood 2004' and it worked. I moved to L.A. in January of 2004.
quote by Emma Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No posthumous gratitude
I had taken down addresses of the persons
Close to my father as he told in deathbed.
All were informed; none came to the funeral.
Yes, he was not there to note their absence.
10.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My son was killed in 2004. I am not paying my taxes for 2004. You killed my son, George Bush, and I don't owe you a penny.
quote by Cindy Sheehan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rejected Soul
Our community is a rejected soul
Mothers have hearts with holes
if they don't bury their off springs in latrine halls
in the stomach they murder them as wholes
Now it is a journey with potholes...
Thus, we think conscience is so tall
that's why, we've chosen to fall!
i see our society as a living sole
Each individual with his own wall
the weak have got no angel to call
and the vagabond, no warmth at all
The poor with no faithful pal
and the crippled without a ball
Truth has been taken to shopping malls
kept in the drawers for the moles
Faithful wives compete with whores
for the fathers who line at the street poles
politics, has turned to a busy stall
where lies are on fire like burning coals
and hence our community is gone
poem by Timothy muggaga
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