Love Of Pity Soars
When my wife interrupts
I get disturbed with irks.
When my child interrupts
I get disturbed for joy.
Love born of pity soars
Unlike love of commitment.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Want To Be Disturbed?
Do you want to be disturbed?
By your family
By your friend
By your relation
By unknown people
Do you want to be disturbed?
With their problem
With their need
With their worry
With their temptation
Do you want to be disturbed?
In inconvenient place
In unexpected moment
In weary condition
In mixed emotion
Do you want to be disturbed?
And will you be glad
And will you grumble
And will you ignore
And will you be generous
Do you want to be disturbed?
And still give your ears
And still give your hands
And still give your smile
And still give your hour
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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An old fashioned horse in a modern racecourse
I choose my destination
But someone interrupts
And they ask where do you go on vacation?
I say sorry my dear, the word 'vacation' has disappeared
since a long time in my notepad.
And this working horse gallops out of the track
So never reach the goal it seems.
Even I do not have a leisure time to replace my wearied horseshoes.
Someone interrupts!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If I am no longer disturbed myself, I will deal less with disturbed people, but I don't regret having concerned myself with them because I think most of us are disturbed.
quote by Tennessee Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A disturbed child
For hours and days we talked, and there was that portion
Of that honest conversation when he opened a certain
Cabinet where a black-covered diary contains a page of the story
About a disturbed child,
A confused child, not because he was not born like
Any other new born child, on a package-deal of innocence
For a start of his existence,
A happy child, a normal child with a
Loving and caring ma and pa and excited siblings
To receive him as another playmate added to their house,
At most, the conversation changed to a slow motion
In that portion,
He showed some serious indications, a gaze of a man,
Undistracted by her poise for casualness and
A consideration that this is nothing but another kind
Of a light conversation unlike no other,
It is not, this is serious, he said, because this is true and this really
Happened, the cabinet and the diary are nothing but
Fronts to fictional realities,
He was the disturbed child, and he is going to tell her about it,
Today,
He did not have a happy childhood, as he once told the Jesuits,
Who accepted him to their fold,
And for which he, of course took his graceful exit,
Because he is a liar,
He began talking about some bamboo sticks which hit him,
The sack which enclosed him, the rope which hanged him
On the kitchen beam,
The ants that bit him while he
Kneeled on mongo beans under a scorching sun, and the mother
He still very well remembers,
She was not able to do anything to save him.
She too was part of
That disturbance, the slap that still left a mark of humiliation on his
Left cheek,
A scar on his childhood, forever. She died earlier than expected.
He, the villain, did not.
Not the child, who later escaped from hell.
that child though disturbed by his past, is now given the right to speak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Close The Door
cos I'm the one who knows everyone bar ber que lungs
none of you know what I'm thinking
who on earth would believe a word that you say
your disturbed in a strange facinated way
your disturbed, I think your disturbed
I've told you once
to switch all the lights off
you never believe that
stay near the windowthe window
phone me at 3 or 4
close the door (1, 2, 3, 4)
phone me at 3 or 4
time for the math test
I come over to you, at your chair you face up
I reply politely stare back
back
I'm so backward
I almost forgot
why I'm sitting
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chronic Illness
Many addicted to chronic illness
Know not root, of why this is so
Disease is born of repressed emotion
Infects well-being, interrupts the flow
poem by Ray Lucero
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Be not disturbed at being misunderstood; be disturbed at not understanding.
Be not disturbed at being misunderstood; be disturbed rather at not being understanding.
It Is Just A Poem
what i write is just a poem
do not let it disturb you, they are just letters forming words
words forming a phrase
forming an idea to your mind as you read them
it is just a poem, it is just like a movie
let it not disturb you then, sleep and dream
but somehow if it has disturbed you, and you cannot stop it from
disturding you, then let yourself be disturbed and let yourself think
about it:
why are you disturbed?
now, it is not just a poem
it is me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No sorrow drops down from Heaven
Entwined i feel loved
Embraced by a stranger with warmth and passion
The cockroach interrupts the ceremony and i kill him
No sorrow drops from Heaven
Entwined i feel loved
Embraced by a stranger so often now, i cannot stand it
Imagine getting angry from excess ecstasy but u cannot
For my day is filled with intercourse that would make you blush
My day, unlike any others is carnal in it's essence
My day, is unique each day and so is my lover
But i wondered at that moment
As the cockroach interrupted my ceremony and i killed him
When someone human interrupts my ceremony how will i act?
Moreover a most urgent question-
When i am defunct will sorrow dropp from Heaven?
I pray for that because
What sorrows have value except the ones for me?
I look back at the roach and see that suddenly he is beautiful
His sleek light brown coat looks like a bikers leather jacket
and he is smiling, contentedly.
Someday, so will I.
Contentedly filled with embalming fluid
While a miniscule throng passes by to pay respects
I am grinning inside
knowing I never died
Sorrow comes from hell
all is well all is well
No sorrow drops down from heaven
Beau Golden
2005
poem by Beau Golden
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Without being disturbed
Without being disturbed
You are here
You appeared and you disappeared
You are not here to know
Summer winter happiness disaster.
Without being disturbed
You are here
Nobody is there to kill you
Nobody can kill you
The word kill is but a chill.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The thing I hate about an argument is that it always interrupts a discussion.
quote by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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12 Years later In The Land Of Joy
The arrows of war!
12 years later in the land of joy!
But my red-burry nights are now disturbed by the bombs.
Where are the tombs to bury all these people? !
For this war is like my loneliness with my blue-burry nights;
But i was disturbed by the stray bullets! !
In the land of joy and in the land of love,
The land of joy is now bombarded here and there! !
And this looks like a hole where the lions went in,
But my mind still rests on all those years gone by.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Affliction is a school of virtue; it corrects levity, and interrupts the confidence of sinning.
quote by Francis Atterbury
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The telephone, which interrupts the most serious conversations and cuts short the most weighty observations, has a romance of its own.
quote by Virginia Woolf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jealous Nature
Earthly love so soon corrupts,
And others peace, it interrupts:
The jealous human nature fears
A loss, if other love appears.
It's not our choice; second place
Means loss of power, loss of face;
To give up our own sovereign crown,
And sense the ties that bind, unbound.
If our magic touch seems gone
We think it best to move along;
Place faith then in another heart,
Till death or some new love, doth part.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Denial
for every tear
that we shed
on the grave of
our loved one
another soul
up there
becomes restless
disturbed.
do not cry anymore.
let them have the
needed rest.
you must learn
to forget and learn
to live
your own life
of loneliness
the woman
standing next
to the grave
of your husband
mourns too
fighting her own
battle of
loneliness
look at her
she is broken
too with so much
sorrow
pity, have pity on her.
pity, have pity on yourself too
why should one be overwhelmed with so much sorrow?
when happines lurks just behind you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pity, pity, pity
Look at to the unwanted child
Look at to the divorced wife
Look at to the homeless man
What people do other than saying
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the tragic hero
Look at to the sympathized villain
Look at to the clueless victim
What witnesses do other than staring
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the crazy dreamer
Look at to the unlucky gambler
Look at to the stubborn fighter
What friends do other than whispering
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the withering flower
Look at to the starving animal
Look at to the extinct nature
What human do other than howling
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the empty spaces
Look at to the blank faces
Look at to the lost traces
What devils do other than laughing
“Pity, pity, pity”
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Whosoever interrupts the conversation of others to make a display of his own wisdom, certainly betrays his ignorance.
Saadi in Gulistan (The Rose Garden) (1258), translated by Francis Gladwin
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Corner Office
Unlike his peers
his office holds
no photo of a wife
no indication that he has
fathered five
and probably
will father more.
There's a silver ashtray, though,
and a tinkling chandelier
and carpeting
his wife would like
soars across the floor.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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