Desire is not dispensed with
Objects clung to, are replaced.
Clinging continues.
Women lusted for, are replaced.
Lusting continues.
Loved and hated are replaced.
Love and hate stays.
Objects only change, not the urge.
05.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Talking Book
I wish I had a talking book
That told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
To past and present memories
A talking book that said your name
So if you were gone, youd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
In imagination I could touch
A talking, talking book
I wish I had a talking book
Filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
Your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs
How much Id bluster to ask it why
One must live and one must die
I wish I had a talking book
By my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
Much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
Is that so much to really ask
In this one moments time and space
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Signs Of Life
When the child like view of the world went, nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...
I do not like being asked to.....i do not like being asked to... I do not like being asked to....
Other people replaced it
Someone who knows
(instrumental)
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sign Of Life
When the child like view of the world went, nothing replaced it...
nothing replaced it...nothing replaced it...
I do not like being asked to.....I do not like being asked to...
I do not like being asked to....
Other people replaced it
Someone who knows
(Instrumental)
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Signs Of Spring
The Western Meadowlark
Gone
Replaced with herbicide, fungicide, insecticide and a gas-powered 'Popper' to keep the birds and geese away
Flowers
Gone
Replaced with pavers, concrete and outdoor barbecue grills
Family Farms
Gone
Replaced with huge, multi-owner conglomerates and global positioning satellites to keep the rows straight
Hometown Baseball Teams
Gone
Replaced with co-ops, bussing and poor, retired farmers driving busses to supplement their retirement income
Small Towns
Gone
Replaced with convenience stores along 4-lane highways and signs saying how many miles to the next Wal-mart and all the goods 'Made in China'
The US?
poem by Merle Steinmann
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The unequal will depart
In some, a tree grows too tall for a vine.
In some, a vine is too long for a tree.
In both cases, the stunted are replaced
In a couple, when one outgrows the other,
The other is left out to be replaced.
It is inevitable.
04.12.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I replaced Walsh, I replaced Blackmore, now I just gotta be me.
quote by Tommy Bolin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The cyclic movements
Ancestor worship gave way
For Jainism and Buddhism,
Which were replaced by Hinduism
To be replaced by Islam,
Which Christianity outnumbered.
Which religion is the usurper
In a cyclic movements?
03.09.2012 [Pertaining to India]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There Is a Fanatic Clinging Onto a Madness
There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.
This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.
And those who have achieved it are pleased.
It seems to reflect,
A feeling of a rush that many have come to satiate.
There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.
This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Emotion is wheels
The desired are left; the desire stays.
The ignored are got; the ignoring stays.
The loved are missed; the love remains.
The hated are nowhere; the hate remains.
Curiosity and boredom take shifts.
When wisdom dawns, the life downs.
30.12.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Replacement Theology
Replacement Theology, as it is called, to many hearts has been sold,
A belief by many that’s been bought, from distorted teachings taught.
The belief that Israel has no place, within God’s eternal plan of Grace,
And replaced by Christ’s Church, which in Acts, by Christ was birthed.
The very present Church of God, that’s spread across the earthly sod,
Has replaced God’s own Nation, which bears His eternal identification.
Some saying Jerusalem’s not literal, but a city to be taken as spiritual,
But, that’s where God put His Name, and on the city to forever remain.
Denying God’s chosen Holy Land, is simply playing into Satan’s hand,
Creating religious and political strife, to prepare that way for Antichrist.
Even the dividing of Jerusalem, that city where many killed God’s Son,
In a vain attempt to broker peace, with people who are God’s enemies.
This didn’t come from God’s Throne, but began in the Church of Rome,
Who had denied God’s people Israel, to satisfy their own religious will,
One, which replaced love with hate, for the people of God’s Holy state.
Belief that Israel can be replaced, according to their ideas, is debased.
For what God has put firmly in place, shall remain forever by his Grace,
The same Grace which saves everyone, who comes to faith in His Son.
The people of Israel can be assured, of all the promises from The Lord,
For whatever God said, He will do, just as He will, for both me and you.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
~~I Hate You~
I hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you. i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you.i hate you. i hate you. i hate you. i hate you. i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.
I hate you when you don’t love me
I hate you when you don’t come home
I hate you when you hate me
I hate you when i see you kissing a girl
I’ve always hated you
You’ve broke my heart into little pieces
My life gets worse when I stay
My life gets worse when I drink
My life gets worse when you yell At Me
You’ve always think I was a piece of trash
I hate I hate you I hate you I hate I hate you I hate you I hate you
I hated you So Much!
Look up to your heart. you’ve always hurt me in public
I hated you when you drink
I hate you when I see you around with that Women of yours
It just makes me want to cry.
In the night I cry out loud for MY family, The Ones You’ve Cared And Loved So Much
Always making other decisions
Telling lies to Your family.
But Some Day You’ll Find Away To Get You And The Family Together.
poem by Sonya Wesley
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I don't know where you are.
All my messages have been erased.
And replaced,
By question marks.
For five years I saved each one.
And the other day I awakened...
There was nothing.
I had none.
And the email we shared,
And exchanged with one another.
Is gone!
Including every address,
I hung onto has vanished!
I don't know where you are.
All my messages have been erased.
And replaced,
By question marks.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ensanguined Moon
The sun has sunken
To be replaced with a
Ensanguined moon.
The wolves howl
To let there malaise
Known to the world.
A young girl has passed
As the crimson blood
Stains the carpet.
A mother weeps.
A young girl sleeps,
Never to rise again.
The sun had sunk
To be replaced with a
Ensanguined moon...
poem by Tamara Moir
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Winters Sun
Winters pall dims the vestiges of autumn gone,
lost the laughter and the sun, families fled
past the eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun.
Mundanity dulls the keenest edge, (re) casts
playact in imports stead, each actor caught in
winters pall, dims the vestiges of autumn gone.
In heady, early days, blushing glance was enough
to hold, then break, the rhythm of the dreary drum.
Past the eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun,
each generation caricatured, first by writers pen,
then realigned by victors gun; the awful chill of
winters pall dims the vestiges of autumn. Gone,
the comfort in a hug, entwined hands: now undone,
voices held on memories breadth, fade away into the
past. The eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun,
sightless, gaping - cast amongst the great undone, stories
raise them from the depths, before letting go into the
winters pall, dims the vestiges of autumn gone
past the eyes of those past - replaced by barren sun.
poem by Christopher Withers
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Did I Really See That?
A woman on our bed wearing my gown with ma woman
Sleeping on my side of the bed?
Am I replaced?
So quick?
I thought we were going to talk
About it
Try to work it out
I cancelled all my plans
In a manner to surprise you
I didn't like the way things went
The other day
And now I get home
To find this?
A woman on our bed
Wearing my gown with ma woman on ma side of da bed
Am I replaced?
Just like that?
I thought what we had meant
Something to you
I thought we had a connection
I thought fate had brought us
Together
I thought our future
Was written somewhere
In heaven
Most of all I thought the feeling
Was mutual
For 5years I was relaxed
Thinking I'm in the right place
Where my soul belongs
Wasn't looking
Wasn't searching
Was content
And now I find
A woman on our bed wearing my gown with ma woman
On my side of the bed
Am I replaced?
Already!
I had always been loyal
You cheated more than I could remember
And I kept forgiving n forgetting
I kept loving you like you
Never wronged me
I Kept on trusting you
but to you all that was just a blur
I bet you thought I was fool
I bet you thought I'd never leave you
I bet you thought you were ma life
That's why you cheated
That's why you lied
That's why now I find
A woman on our bed wearing my gown with ma woman
On my side of the bed
Am I replaced?
I know you are
I have ran out of tears
I cried for so long*difedile*
I have ran out of Forgiveness
I forgiven you more than the
Bibble Says I should
I have ran out of space for you
The place I used to keep you is shuttered
And I have ran out of love for you
What I thought was mine
Is now ours
What I thought I owned
It turned out
We own
What I thought was true to me
It was all a lie
A woman on our bed
Wearing my gown
With my woman
On my side of the bed
She can stay
I'll leave..
poem by Diopelo King
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Lord Buddha the Guide
He was born in Lumbin,
Delivered his first sermon in Saranath,
And shed his body in Kushinara,
The Lord Buddha, the Light of Asia.
He is
Siddhartha, the one who accomplishes,
Tathagata, the perfect one,
Bhudhisattva, the enlightened one,
Sakhya Muni, the ascetic of Sakhya clan,
Goutama, the ascetic,
And Jina, the conqueror.
Truths are four:
The existence of sorrow;
There is cause for it;
Cessation of the cause;
The conquest.
Rules are five:
Abstinence from injury;
Abstinence from stealing;
Abstinence of wrongful indulgence;
Abstinence of falsehood;
Abstinence from intoxication.
Paths are eightfold:
Right understanding;
Right thoughts;
Right speech;
Right action;
Right living;
Right effort;
Right mindfulness;
Right contemplation
Self indulgence and
Self mortification,
Are two extreme steps;
Choose the middle path.
To eat and drink, to live
Is not evil.
To do to be merry is evil.
To nurse the health is not evil.
To do the opposite is evil.
The one who conquers the all
But not one’s self, conquers nil.
Buddha ruled ‘the Hindus’
Before Rama and Krishna ruled.
His shrines had been replaced
With the shrines of Hindus,
Which were again replaced
With the shrines of Islam.
If Buddha is to return to his place,
Rama has no place to return to.
26.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That is the great distinction between the sexes. Men see objects, women see the relationships between objects.
quote by John Fowles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate changes of administrations, because I have all my villains in place and they are all taken away and replaced with faceless wonders nobody knows.
quote by Pat Oliphant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hatred and regret
You hated whom you had loved.
You regretted which you had neglected
Hatred is the passive revenge.
Regret is the love posthumous
Solace is derived from the both
11.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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We’ve Lost
Things around us change so rapidly
we sometimes forget what we’ve lost
to the call of progress.
The neighbourhoods and streets
where as children we played
replaced by blocks of flats towering tall.
No place for children to play anymore.
Blocks filled with broken lifts and stench laden stairs.
Its progress you know,
the property developers say with big grins.
Dens of iniquity more like.
Slowly eroded are close-knit communities
and the help one another attitude
replaced by isolation, as you grow old.
From a caring society of the past
to an uncaring one of the future.
Isolated in little boxes,
deprived of neighbourly help
as we progress down the road
forgetting all that we’ve lost.
13 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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