The latest one steals the show
The thing you gave birth to last month,
Last year, last decade or still ago
Looks so distant and inferior to the one
Now born. It’s the fate of every origin.
09.12.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On Pedigree. From Epicharmus
My mother! if thou love me, name no more
My noble birth! Sounding at every breath
My noble birth, thou kill'st me. Thither fly,
As to their only refuge, all from whom
Nature withholds all good besides; they boast
Their noble birth, conduct us to the tombs
Of their forefathers, and, from age to age
Ascending, trumpet their illustrious race:
But whom hast thou beheld, or canst thou name,
Derived from no forefathers? Such a man
Lives not; for how could such be born at all?
And, if it chance that, native of a land
Far distant, or in infancy deprived
Of all his kindred, one, who cannot trace
His origin, exist, why deem him sprung
From baser ancestry than theirs who can?
My mother! he whom nature at his birth
Endow'd with virtuous qualities, although
An Æthiop and a slave, is nobly born.
poem by William Cowper
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Medley: Hallelujah / Last Month Of The Year
(l. cohen/traditional)
Hallelujah was originally contained in leonard cohen's various positions, while last month of the year is a blues traditional. on the cd booklet this song is credited only as hallelujah.
I heard there was a secret chord
That david played and it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this :
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrough ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and i've walked this floor
I used to live alone before i knew ya
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not some victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Well, maybe there's a god above
But all i've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
[and here starts last month of the year]
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, january, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh yeah
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, february, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh but
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
(thank you melbourne)
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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July 21st,1980
July 21st,1980
============
A Momentous Time Back Upon A Monday In July
The Place Where Be: New York
The Date There Be: The 21st
The Dawn Of New Life
A Newborn Angel Born
To A Sign Astrological In Time
An Astrological Sign That Resembles The Number Year 69
The Year Man First Touch Downed Upon The Moon
Of An Angel On The Rise
Man Reached Out Toward The Skies
When This Angel Came From Heaven
A Birth Timed To Perfection
A Moon Child Synchronous In Birth
To A Walk Of Man Upon The Moon
To Find A Celestial Body Here On Earth
Embodied In A Child Born Of Woman
A Monday's Child So Pure Of Face
Wholesome In Appearance
Born At The End Of A Summer Solstice
Born To The Astrological Sign Of Cancer
To Gaze Up At The Stars
To Find Her Birthed Here On Earth
A True Product Of The Heavens
A True Product Of Perfection
She Was Born Upon A Day
Aligned By The Moon
A Celestial Body Tread Forth Upon By Man
11 Years Prior To The Day To Astonish
Fore Man To Spend Their Lives
In Wait To Reach The Stars
To Find One Here Born On This Earth
A Decade And A Year Thenceforward
A Leap Year Past Toward A Leap Of Time Back
To This Very Day Of Grandeur
Man First Stepped Forth Upon The Moon
Her Very Birth Was Much Grander
poem by Ricardo Antunes
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The pity of pities
In a year,
You brought me
Ten years younger.
In a month,
You sent me
Ten years older.
In a year,
You exuded my
Hormones to that of a lad.
In a month,
You defused it
Far less to one older than me.
In a year,
You kindled me
To soar to the peak.
In a month,
You bundled me
To plummet to the ditch.
But in a year,
You activated in me
The finest faculty.
It is in a month
That you motivated
It to result in fruiting.
In a month of setting,
Impulses suffered a lot.
Intellect reaped a lot.
Stress breeds in one
The best
Though in the process,
It upsets
Him, the pity of pities.
Can you put me back
To saddle high in the track?
13.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mensis Lacrimarum
March, that comes roaring, maned, with rampant paws,
And bleatingly withdraws;
March,--'tis the year's fantastic nondescript,
That, born when frost hath nipped
The shivering fields, or tempest scarred the hills,
Dies crowned with daffodils.
The month of the renewal of the earth
By mingled death and birth:
But, England! in this latest of thy years
Call it--the Month of Tears.
poem by William Watson
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Life passes through, not being born.
The flowers think they gave birth to seeds,
The shoots, they gave birth to the flowers,
And the plants, they gave birth to the shoots,
So do the seeds they gave birth to plants.
You think you gave birth to the child.
None thinks they are only entrances
For the life force that passes through.
A life is not born, it passes through.
04.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The virtue is supreme
.Elegance is nice,
But inferior to kindness.
Composure is sweet,
But inferior to compassion.
Charity is great,
But inferior to justice.
Honesty is fine,
But inferior to fidelity.
Intelligence is strength
But inferior to wisdom
Every good trait
Is inferior to virtue,
Which must be the axis,
Around which one runs.
18.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The virtue is supreme.
Elegance is nice,
But inferior to kindness.
Composure is sweet,
But inferior to compassion.
Charity is great,
But inferior to justice.
Honesty is fine,
But inferior to fidelity.
Intelligence is strength
But inferior to wisdom
Every good trait
Is inferior to virtue,
Which must be the axis,
Around which one runs.
18.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Life passes........
The flowers think they gave birth to seeds,
The shoots, they gave birth to the flowers,
And the plants, they gave birth to the shoots,
So do the seeds they gave birth to plants.
You think you gave birth to the child.
None thinks they are only entrances
For the life force that passes through.
A life is not born, it passes through.
poem by Anees Akbar
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August....
August is the month for kids it’s the last few weeks of freedom before a new school year begins.
August is the month where many parents are excited that its here cause they don’t want their kids home alone.
August is the last month before fall begins.
August is the only month that has fewer holidays than most months.
August is the month where most teens are happy because it means that it’s the last school year for most.
August is the month that I really don’t care for but I also like as well.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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February 27th
i was born in the month
second to the first month
of the year 1985 on the 27th
a wednesday it were, my day of birth
i was born and blossomed on earth
i shall be gone and faded by death
i was raised from the walks of many
i was chased from the talks of any
i was faced in stare from the looks by many
i was traced to each way of i destiny by plenty
my circumstance were many, mine without penny
still to the moment of circumstance i carry
the wish to my own penny like any of empty
i still deny my heart a chance
i denied my heart a second chance
by the matters of the heart at once
and urge
my heart to the edge
of any that matches
and live
to leave
when gone and faded
by death than hatred
i was born
i would have gone
so alone
with none
but my own
body and soul
and all that knew me,
would have known
that i was born
on my earth strong
opn05122012/1028
poem: feb.27th
book: the melody of my heart
book no.14 of 2012
facebook: opnmambo
twitter: @opnmambo
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(p) & (c) OPN GROUP OF COMPANIES (Pty) LTD t/a MAMBO MUSIC & POETRY
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A week, a month, a year
How long is this waiting?
A week, a month, a year
I can’t count the days anymore
How long is this yearning?
A week, a month, a year
I barely feel the difference
How long is this goodbye?
A week, a month, a year
Is the end is forever?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Happy b day
Happy birthday Triauna
Today is a great day
The day my girl was born
Monumental occasion
Sound the horn
New born child cute as a button
Dem other babies culdnt say nuffin Literally the truth is all I say
Throughout the years
You made each and every day
Thats just who you are and how you roll Always warm heart never cold
As you open your gifts
Just remember this
Your birth day only comes once a year Every day feel like my birth day because I know you here
The gift you give is priceless
Yet every day the value increases
Second most important born right after Jesus
Brings me back to my thesis
Happy birth day Triauna
poem by Martin McCollugh
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He Was Born In Ussr
He was born in USSR
At the hospital there
At 5: 30 am
And that was the time that his mother gave birth to him
But I remember that she said that giving birth was very hard
And I can say to that
Thanks God that men don't give birth
Because I don't think they would want to go through with it
Knowing that there is pain in giving birth to a baby
But when he was 13 he moved from USSR to United States
So that he could get a god education
And a good job in his life
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Song Of The Widow
In the beginning life was good to me;
it held me warm and gave me courage.
That this is granted all while in their youth,
how could I then have known of this.
I never knew what living was----.
But suddenly it was just year on year,
no more good, no more new, no more wonderful.
Life had been torn in two right down the middle.
That was not his fault nor mine
since both of us had nothing but patience;
but death has none.
I saw him coming (how rotten he looked),
and I watched him as he took and took:
and nothing was mine.
What, then, belonged to me; was mine, my own?
Was not even this utter wretchedness
on loan to me by fate?
Fate does not only claim your happiness,
it also wants your pain back and your tears
and buys the ruin as something useless, old.
Fate was present and acquired for a nothing
every expression my face is capable of,
even to the way I walk.
The daily diminishing of me went on
and after I was emptied fate gave me up
and left me standing there, abandoned.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Justice Delayed Is Justice Denied
Justice seekers wait day after day,
Month after month, year after year
Even decade is passed but
In course of justice they don’t hear.
Sometimes they pass away
without getting the justice.
Such delays lack faith
In system amongst the public.
Maggu's land was captured
In an act of atrocity
And his cow was stolen
From his own vicinity.
With good efforts of police
The stolen cow was traced
But died beforel order of justice
To return it, was graced.
Maggu filed an other suit
Demanding for compensation;
His land dispute was already
Pending under litigation.
Finally justice prevailed
He got verdict in his favour
Compensation and his land
Years he waited with fervor.
But by the time justice given
Old Maggu was died
This is how legal maxim
Justice delayed is justice denied.
(c) S.D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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J-Love In Our Ages Love In Stages
In the first month
Love was tentative
Love was laughter
Love was ecstasy
In the second month
Love made questions
Love made laughter
Love made richness
In the third month
Love gave friendship
Love gave laughter
Love gave family
In the fourth month
Love became promise
Love became laughter
Love became spring
In the fifth month
Love grew flowers
Love grew laughter
Love grew deeper
June 2,1997
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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I'm not able to go in with an act that I use month to month year to year all the time. It's constantly evolving and changing and that keeps me on my toes but certainly adds to the challenge.
quote by Alan Thicke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the Ladies' Free Produce Society
Your gathering day! and I am not,
As erst, amid you set;
But even from this distant spot,
My thoughts are with you yet,
As freshly as in hours forgot,
When I was with you met.
His blessing on your high career!
Go, press unwearied on,
From month to month, from year to year,
Till when your task is done,
The franchised negro's grateful tear
Oh faint you not, ye gathered band!
Although your way be long,
And they who ranged against you stand,
Are numberless and strong;
While you but bear a feeble hand,
Unused to cope with wrong.
Upon your injured brother look,
And nerve ye with the sight!
Could you the good, the gentle, brook
To wear your days in light,
Regardless that by sorrow struck,
He pines in rayless night?
Oh surely 't is a blessed fate,
A lot like that ye bear—
To bid the crush'd and desolate,
Not yield them to despair,
For even amidst their low estate,
Some hearts their sufferings share.
And never your high task forget,
Till they are chainless—free!
Alas! that ye should be so met,
And I not with you be;
Yet sometimes when you thus are set,
One heart may turn to me.
Proclaims your victory won.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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