Double standard
Peter disputed with John
And invoked Ram’s helps.
Peter disputed with his sons.
And resented Ram’s offers
When a neighbour attacks,
The country opens its door.
When its subjects revolt,
It prefers to shut the door.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Anything is disputable.
Scripts are disputed; faiths are disputed.
So are history, theory and discovery.
Anything is subject to dispute.
It means there is a base to support them.
08.10.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Design
Fencing your house will be bitterly disputed,
As fine the authority is of the disputed.
Fellowship holds bargain and baggage,
Best off is the one who relates and has to be sage.
Reflect on the very nature I detest, the one
That describes a solitary being in progress.
I defeat only a life that tries to defy the standards
I kept and I wept to believe in.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mercy And Innocence
When Mercy, first from Heaven deputed,
(The fact has never been disputed),
Arrived on earth, there with her came
A certain bashful, blue-eyed dame,
Whom Innocence we mortals name;
These two are sisters, and their love
Made them inseparable above;
And Jove, when he sent Mercy hither,
Let gentle Innocence come with her.
Unlike the peevish brood of earth,
They never quarrelled from their birth,
And still together do they dwell,
In the warm heart of Isabel.
poem by Peter John Allan
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The Relativity
To leave John and move towards Peter,
I must hate John or love Peter more.
John must ignore, or Peter must lure.
Relations thrive in relativity.
(17.05.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Love sticks on
If a door is shut
Don’t get upset.
Search and find.
There’s another door
Open, perhaps wider.
In our courtship
The door, don’t shut.
I want no other door
Even if it is wider.
No door is dearer than
The door of your bosom.
10-10-1999.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Unopened Doors
Many doors of opportunity
remain shut through passing time.
You stand at them,
but they never open to let you pass through.
You try and try, but with no avail.
The door remains shut to you,
but you see other pass through it
and your frustration grows.
You bang and shout
and never anyone answers you.
The years slip silently by
from your youth until your old.
Each time you try the door
it refuses to let you through.
Even with more wisdom
it refuses to let you in,
but you don’t give up
you just try and try again.
More time passes
and you’ve lost the will
to want to go through.
You reach that point when you feel the battle lost.
Turning your back you walk away
to let the sun set on your life.
You feel you have nothing now,
no more will to fight.
Someone suggests a different direction,
a different door to go through.
You are hesitant
in case the door remains shut to you.
Finally, you try it
and are amazed to find
the door opens easily
and you can walk through,
but you keep remembering
the door that wouldn’t open for you.
25 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead
Peter pumpkinhead came to town
Spreading wisdom and cash around
Fed the starving and housed the poor
Showed the vatican what golds for
But he made too many enemies
Of the people who would keep us on our knees
Hooray for peter pumpkin
Wholl pray for peter pumpkinhead?
Oh my!
Peter pumpkinhead pulled them all
Emptied churches and shopping malls
Where he spoke, it would raise the roof
Peter pumpkinhead told the truth
But he made too many enemies...
Peter pumpkinhead put to shame
Governments who would slur his name
Plots and sex scandals failed outright
Peter merely said
Any kind of love is alright
But he made too many enemies...
Peter pumpkinhead was too good
Had him nailed to a chunk of wood
He died grinning on live tv
Hanging there he looked a lot like you
And an awful lot like me!
But he made too many enemies...
Hooray for peter pumpkin
Wholl pray for peter pumpkin
Hooray for peter pumpkinhead
Oh my oh my oh!
Doesnt it make you want to cry oh?
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is the advertiser who provides the paper for the subscriber. It is not to be disputed, that the publisher of a newspaper in this country, without a very exhaustive advertising support, would receive less reward for his labor than the humblest mechanic.
quote by Alexander Hamilton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I heard my name associated with the Peter Pan syndrome more than once. But really, what's so wrong with Peter Pan? Peter Pan flies. He is a metaphor for dreams and faith.
quote by Mark Burnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Believe You
(peter tork)
Peter tork music (bmi)
Lead vocal: peter tork
I believe you (4x)
I believe you on a sunny day
I believe you chase the clouds away
I believe you
I believe you on a rainy night
I believe you put the moon to flight
I believe you
Whoa oh oh
Whoa oh oh
I believe you
I believe your body
I believe your heart
I believe were one
I believe well part
I believe you
I believe you warm
I believe youll stay
I believe you cold
I believe youll stray
I believe you
Whoa oh oh
Whoa oh oh
I believe you
The engines of your love
Achieve escape velocity
Im catapulted into space
For moments I am free
Then a trap door drops;
Im plummeted
Into quicksands of despair
Im consumed by flames of agony
Till you tell me that you care
Whoa oh oh
Whoa oh oh
And I believe you
I believe you
Whoa oh oh
Whoa oh oh
I believe you
I believe you
What else can I do?
I believe you
I believe you
What else can I do?
What else can I do?
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas At The Pearly Gates
Three men die on Christmas day
And then arrive at the pearly gates
St Peter starts to turn them away
Since his records say they’re reprobates
But since it was Christmas …well
He might let them in
If they had any symbol
of Christmas with them
The first had an ornament in his pocket
St Peter ushered him in
The second had pine needles on his shirt
St Peter bade him within
The third gentleman with a look of chagrin
Pulled out a pair of panties of green and red
“How do these represent Christmas? ”
Astounded, St Peter said
“Well Pete, I know you are familiar
With beautiful, Christmas carols
And these skimpies might seem to you
Simply as risqué apparel.”
“Well…These are Carol’s, ”
the man said with a grin
Saint Peter rolled his eyes…
And then let him in
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shut your door, and you will make your neighbour good.
I’m going to Blue Dimension
I’m going to blue dimension
Thru my own magic door
It’s truly a comprehension
And borderline of life’s seashore
In times on passing by
And giving its heart content
It opens to the blue sky
When feeling are in relent
It shows you the magic hours
And all that you can give
Its grass is of wild and flowers
That you on truly must live
To enjoy the moments they make
In magic that is passing on
When you from its dreams awake
It never is really gone
So open your blue dimension door
To see what is there inside
And what’s in your heart’s lore
In thoughts you did put aside
There are moments of their truth
In everything that we all do
It’s magic of infinity youth
As days come and get on thru
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Shut your door, and you will make your neighbour a good woman.
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore —
No doubt you have heard the name before —
Was a boy who never would shut a door!
The wind might whistle, the wind might roar,
And teeth be aching and throats be sore,
But still he never would shut the door.
His father would beg, his mother implore,
'Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
We really do wish you would shut the door!'
Their hands they wrung, their hair they tore;
But Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
Was deaf as the buoy out at the Nore.
When he walked forth the folks would roar,
'Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore,
Why don't you think to shut the door?'
They rigged up a Shutter with sail and oar,
And threatened to pack off Gustavus Gore
On a voyage of penance to Singapore.
But he begged for mercy and said, 'No more!
Pray do not send me to Singapore
On a Shutter, and then I will shut the door!'
'You will?' said his parents; 'then keep on shore!
But mind you do! For the plague is sore
Of a fellow that never will shut the door,
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore!'
poem by William Brighty Rands
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St. John, Apostle and Evangelist
The younger son of father, Zebedee,
And younger brother of St. James, the great;
His mother was Mary’s sister, Salome;
He was the disciple whom Jesus loved.
A fisherman like his father,
He fished in Genesaret Lake;
Called ‘Boanerges’ by Jesus,
Meaning ‘sons of thunder (anger) ’.
Born in Bethsaida, Galilee AD6,
One of twelve apostles of Christ;
A former disciple of St John, the Baptist,
A ‘half-cousin’ of Jesus Christ.
John was called Evangelist too;
A friend of Jesus, fast and thick;
He sat near Christ at Last Supper;
He went to jail with St. Peter.
Called ‘Apostle of Charity’;
St John the Theologian;
St John the divine;
He saw Peter heal the lame man.
He witnessed Jairus’ daughter being raised,
And was in Gethsemane with Peter;
He called Christ, the Lamb of God;
He was a ‘pillar of the Church’.
With Mary, John stood near the cross,
And Jesus said, ‘This is your son! ’
And to John, ‘This is your mother! ’
He saw Jesus when transfigured.
He ran with Peter to Christ’s grave,
Believing Him to have risen;
He recognized Jesus ashore,
When he appeared after He rose.
Thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil,
He did not suffer injury.
He was banished to Patmos isle.
He wrote his gospel at Ephesus.
He wrote the fourth Gospel;
He wrote three epistles;
The Book of Revelation (Apocalypse):
He founded churches in Asia Minor.
He died at AD 100 when,
He was extremely old by then;
He died on Sept 26th.
His feast is on Dec 27th.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-07-‘08
poem by John Celes
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The beauty put on cleverness.
Peter thought he was worthier than John.
John thought he was worthier than Peter.
Both were engaged in pursuit of love
For Jane, who encouraged both and slipped.
21.11.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Tiger On The Nineteenth Floor
Just watch out for the tiger on our block’s nineteenth floor
As its picture leaps at you through the wood of the door,
For it aims to devour you as it bears painted claws,
Gnashing synthetic teeth in its red, lifelike jaws.
Though it’s only a poster, it is frightening enough
As the lift door wide opens, for the lighting is duff,
Since it gleams through the dullness in its fierce, threatening way
As it makes its appearance taking breath clean away.
It replaces the soldier in his pressed uniform,
Standing stiff to attention, with his locks neatly shorn.
Did I happen to mention that my neighbour named John
Is a bit of a joker, and so he sticks on
The front of his door, in a good-humoured way
A designed life-sized image to brighten the day.
If the tiger won’t make you run scared for your life,
The doormat will do so: “Beware of the wife! ”
poem by C. Richard Miles
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I Am Graced
I am graced and I greet you with open arms,
Hands are stretched out to keep your heart.
My heart has good wishes for you,
I want to complain, I need some time to explain.
The neighbour is to be loved,
That neighbour is you and my heart.
I want to marry the dream of my choice,
That next-door person is you, my choice.
I read the complaint I make, and I have warmth,
For warm feelings deliver a peace.
You are to be loved like the one next-door,
The neighbour of decisions, no lies.
poem by Naveed Akram
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