En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Two opposite poles

Spaciousness of sky while in sail
And compactness of a car on road,
Multitudes in town and solitude in bedroom,
Richness of tower and humbleness of hut,
Sturdiness of floor and softness of woman’s flesh,
Freeness of valley and restriction of classroom,
Freshness of flower and coldness of toddy, and
Command of leader and request of
invalids
All are two extremes. Yet, I enjoy both. 10.07.2001, Pkd

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Beauty Of The Sky

Beauty of the sky, is the richness of the blue.
Deepness of the sky, is the richness of the red.
Darkness of the sky, is the richness of the black.
Freshness of the sky, is the richness of the rain.
Glimpses of the sky, is the richness of the stars.
Smile of the sky, is the richness of the moon.
Sparks of the sky, is the richness of the lighting.
Beauty of the sky, is the richness of the clouds...

poem by Manzoor ilahi
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Her Bum

‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!

‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee

I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!

I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.

I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.

I daren’t publish anymore…

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I Am A Woman, A Voice, A Flower

I am a woman,
And i have a sensitive soul,
My heart do enjoy the poetry,
My heart is my consciousness,
My heart lives and feels.

I am a voice,
And i have something to say,
This pencil i am writing with,
Is the bearer of all my joys and pains,
Yesteday, today and forever.

I am a sweet flower,
That all poets want to smell,
What kind of fragrance do i have?
Is it the freshness of a woman wisdom
Or is the sweetness of a girl?

poem by Cristina Teodor
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Hold On

(clarke)
Standing on a corner
Nothing on my mind
When walked past a woman
She looked my kind
I said a hey there woman
What you got to do
She took one look at me and said baby
Id like to be with you
Hold on
Wait a minute woman
I aint the kind to phase
And I aint that kind of woman, baby
So she says
She led me to a dwellin
Just along the street
The best part of town baby
We gotta be discreet
Hold on (hold on)
Break
Got to the apartment
Number six sixteen
My, what a place it was
Best Ive ever seen
She headed to the bedroom
Came upon the door
Wait a minute, darling
While I slip into something cool
I was getting excited
One thing on mind
When she rushed out of the bedroom
Said youd better hide
She slowed me my movements
He caught me by the door
What was left on me, baby
Was landing on the floor
Hold on

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accademia Dei Solinghi

KANTATE IHR VOELKER HOERT

IT is her alone
Now singing
Her lonely song
As though
She is on a very
High tower
On a very
High mountaintop.

WHAT I admire
most is her skill
Of singing
Solitude as though
It is a common
Piece
That any maiden
Of the town
Can sing

and
Sing it well.

A perfect voice
Of solitude
Singing

Alleluia
Alleluia

The God
On High
Shall come
And the
Bride must
Be ready
for the
God-groom

She sings so
Skillfully
And the mountains
And valleys and
All the people
Of the town
Listen and
They cannot
Tell what time
Is it because

All they do
Is listen to
Her as she
sings
Skillfully the
song of solitude

I too was sleepless
I learned the art
Of simply be
Myself
of simply
Be
in solitude

Unknown
to all
She sings

Because she
Is sleepy
and

She did not
Believe
in the

Power of solitude

In fact
what she
Really
believed
In and
what made
Her sing is
The power
of
Her song
It was
her
Projection
Of solitude

Which they
Really mistook

as

solitude

Her song
May be about
Solitude

She was not.
she was not really

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The Extreme

at the extreme
coldness is the coldness of the arctic snow
and hotness is the hotness of the volcanic flow
he got them all and he survived them all
his palms know what are all these things all about
but he never stopped touching
he touched the rays of the sun at noon
with his hands opening in prayer
he touched the frost with his fingers
he disliked his fists
he opted more for the silence of the dusks
and the patience of some longer nights
at the extremes of seasons and events
he continued talking to the trees and all its leaves
to his horse to his dog to his door
to his chair to his bed
to his stair
he kept his prayers

He lives. He is very much alive. His solitude his nest.
His prayers shaped the wings of a white bird.
His stone his silence. His strength, his spirit.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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First Flower of Her Day

I’ve been a small stone
In a barren desert.
I’m weary of myself
And the hours
I spend alone.

One day I’ll be a flower
In a crystal vase
In a woman’s bedroom,
The first flower of her day,
And I’ll never be lonely.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Lahaina Aloha

Where the sea breeze
Sways the palm trees
Paradise awaits
And so does she
Reliving love
That was like a romance
From a page in history
It was the last place
That he stopped at
On the way back to his boat
She was dancing
Met his glancing
Like they say
It was all she wrote
You know I want to
But I cant stay (bye bye)
Girl you know Im gonna sail away (sail away)
When the wind comes up
And when the sun goes down
Ill say goodbye to this hawaiian town
I dont know what way you pull this shines [? ? ? ]
You and lahaina always on my mind
They left the dance floor
So they could spend more
Precious time near the water side
It wasnt wrong
And it wasnt right
They were two ships
Passing in the night
You know I want to
But I cant stay (bye bye)
Girl you know Im gonna sail away (sail away)
When the wind comes up
And when the sun goes down
Ill say goodbye to this hawaiian town
I think about you when the full moon shines
Lahaina always on my mind
You know I want to
But I cant stay (bye bye)
Girl you know Im gonna sail away (sail away)
When the wind comes up
And when the sun goes down
Ill say goodbye to this hawaiian town
I think about you when the full moon shines
Lahaina always on my mind
You know I want to
But I cant stay (bye bye)
Girl you know Im gonna sail away (sail away)
When the wind comes up
And when the sun goes down
Ill say goodbye to this hawaiian town
I think about you when the full moon shines
Lahaina always on my mind

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Help Us Continue Our Legacy

As I ripe I get dropped
From the tall tree
That was supporting me all through
I was a flower
Later blossomed
Got fertilized
Turned a unripe fruit
Kept hanging till the time I became a fruit
My thin skin becoming dark blue
My flesh over my big seed turning violet
I did not what happened to my mother tree
Unkind she proved as
She allowed me to fall her height
I suffered as my skin got ruptured
Exposing my violet inside
Staining the ground where I reached
As I looked around
I realized that I am not alone
As many of my brothers or sisters
Were also seen on the ground
After the fall I could not move
As the ousted flesh of mine
Made me stuck to the spot of my fall
My mother was just looking at me
With no attempt seen from her
To comfort me or to attend my wound
As our mother was a road side tree
We, fruits, were lying immobile on the road
Pedestrians, cyclists, two wheelers and cars
Ran over many of us
Coloring the path way violet
And also crushing our soft seed beyond recognition
I wonder whether we are born just to be
Smashed like that or we are born
To be consumed by others
For the purposes of propagation of our order
I have a request to people who walk over us
Kindly bend down pick us up
Blow air over the exposed flesh to remove adhered dust or sand
Put into your mouth
Enjoy the taste of a wonderful fruit
After ensuring you have eaten the entire flesh over the seed
Spit the same on soil
Where it will sprout and become a tree
Thus helping us continue our legacy

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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We can appreciate but not really understand the medieval town. We cannot comprehend its compactness, the contiguity of all its buildings as a single uninterrupted whole.

quote by Arthur Erickson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Classroom

you walk on by the classroom
day to day
but never think about
what’s in it
I know, I didn’t
not because you don’t care
cause it never entered your mined
you might wonder when you see the students
you might know that
they have to go to a “special”
classroom of there own

you might even know what’s
in the classroom
you don’t know what they
do in the classroom
the academics
the physical therapy
the carts and crafts
the culinary arts
most of all the life skills
sounds a lot like most of you classes
right
cause it is

so why not just stop on by
say hello to
the staff
the students
talk to one of the students for a while
they will teach you something
you’ll never learn anywhere else
the classroom will always be there
with students and staff
that will talk to you
watch them watch the students
you’ll learn a lot about life

let the classroom teach you something
let you teach the classroom,
that being “normal” is not
so different
teach that
please teach that
to the
classroom

for it will always be
just
a classroom with
students
staff
and a few students
who stopped on by
and
said hello

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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In The Solitude Of Prayer

In the solitude of prayer
deep
Lost in moments in between weep
and sleep

In the solitude of prayer
Lonliness finds a rest
Survived another test
Brings out our best

In the solitude of prayer
With nobody there
Except those far away
Reminded of their distant care

In the solitude of prayer
You pray for their smile
For their personal trial
Silently, all the while

In the solitude of prayer
Dreams seem more near
More hope than fear
Thoughts of those past those dear

In the solitude of prayer
Pray for their souls kind
Whose memory is still in your mind
And in your heart

In the solitude of prayer
Pray for your dear friends
Whose heart's you defend
As your own heart they mend

In the solitude of prayer
As for God's wisdom
And his love
As all love comes from above

In the solitude of prayer
Find grace to forgive
And to truely give
And to live

In the solitude of prayer
Recall how to dream
Of warm embraces of affection
And of love returned in your direction

In the solitude of prayer
Pray with conviction
Pray for the impossible
Without fear or restriction

poem by James T. Adair
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The Earth And Myself...

as i lay my body
upon the grass

coldness seeps
in my garment
then to my skin
penetrating my
body
into the recesses
of my brain

it is the logic
and emotion conjoining
like twins

there is this coldness
that i allow
somehow

from the earth
to my spine
to my heart

it comforts me
that we are still connected

the warmth of my flesh
and blood

into the silence and
coldness of

this Earth.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Its All Gone

A careless heart aint no good to no-one
I was going back my friends to see
Of what became of my childhood daydreams
Of all the things that used to be
To my surprise I stood alone
I walked a river of a waking dream
My father say know what youre thinking
I guess this old town seen better days
Its all gone
Aint nothing for you here now
Sail on
You talk of change, something better
Cutting down that big old tree
Theres flesh and blood in there somewhere
But no matter what you just dont seem to see
I walk your chambers, your empty halls
I see you talking behind the doors
My father say know what youre thinking
I guess this old town seen better days
Its all gone
Aint nothing for you here now
Sail on
Im sailing on, Im running faster
Than I ever run before
My father say know what youre thinking
I guess this old town seen better days
Sail on

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hatha Yoga

No kind of physical exercise
is superior to Hatha Yoga.
It gives you suppleness and sturdiness
It cleanses systems and stimulates glands
It preserves will-power and reserves energy.
It conserves stamina and retains youthfulness
It expands aura and adds to personality.
Then women can like you at any age.
What more?
06.05.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Valley Road

While no one was looking on the old plantation
He took her all the way down the long valley road
They sent her away not too much later
Left him walking down the old valley road.
Sometimes I lead, sometimes I follow
This time Ill go where she wants me to go
She said maybe today, maybe tomorrow
Go deep in the woods down the long valley road
Walk on walk on little doll walk
Walkon little doll
Out in the hall they were talkin in a whisper
Everybody noticed she was gone a while
Somebody said she was gone to her sisters
Everyone knew what they were talkin about.
While no one was looking on the old plantation
He showed her what they do down the long valley road
Came back around like nothin really happened
Left him standing on the old valley road
Walk on walk on little doll walk on
Walk on little doll
Walk on, walk on the valley road
Standing like a stone on the old plantation
Rich old man wouldnt ever let him in
Good enough to hire, not good enough to marry
When it all happens, nobody wins
Walk on walk on little doll walk on
Walkon little doll etc

song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Beggars Keep Begging For Smog

As things get old,
We recognize them then...
As old.
With sentimental...
Memories.
To remember...
The whens, the whys and those hows.

As things get old,
We recognize them then...
As old.
With sentimental...
Memories.
To remember...
The whens, the whys and those hows.

Less freshness comes back,
When it's known what's inside the box...
With interest in it fading.

Less freshness seems more than needed and not,
When beggars keep begging for smog.
But not one request,
For fresh air to breathe.
Less freshness seems more than needed and not,
When beggars keep begging for smog.
But not one request,
For fresh air to breathe.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Memorial Day

(carly simon)
It should have been so soft, this morning as we left
But the valley was infected, by a different kind of beauty
And the indians they knew, it was a devils sanctuary.
Out of this unholy dawn, a car came stirring up the sand
And a woman from a passion play
Held up the limousine that brought me
All this way today. and I didnt need to turn around
So strong was the message, and the man who planned her life
Commanded all that followed: well they bellowed, and they hollered
And they threw each other down, down in this valley
This cruel and lovely valley, oh it should have been an alley
In some low down part of town
As the lights came up, there was no sun
And brandy splattered all over the ground
As this woman with her head held high
Yelled love and why oh why, youre killing me oh follow me-
As I watched safe and clean, from the frosted windows of that limousine
Well they bellowed and they hollered, and they threw each other down
Down in this valley, this cruel and lovely valley
Oh it sould have been an alley, in some low down part of town
Before hed been so funny, imagining the best:
That hed escaper recrimination, for abandoning the nest
Hed been joking and stoned, while he was entertaining me
But then turned and was stunned, by her panic and her misery
And I was in the get-away car
Giving him a chance, to get away
Get away, get away
And how the valley smoked, as he crossed route 25
With his cymbals and his shattered crown, leaving all alone
His eyes fixed on the ground. and he didnt even turn around
So strong was the message, and he fell into the shallow sky
And was swallowed.
Well they bellowed and they hollered, and they threw each other down
Down in this valley, this cruel and lovely valley
Well it should have been an alley, in some low down part of town

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman is in the lap of A, B, C.....

A says
Woman is attractive flower
B says
Woman is beautiful gift
C says
Woman is great source of comfort
D says
woman has a sweet dialect
E says
Eastern or western, woman is the worthy
F says
woman is central figure of family
G says
woman always glitters with the rays of her partner
H says
woman has holy spirits
I says
woman has basic institution in her lap
J says
woman is a full of joy
K says
woman is head of kisses
L says
woman is lovely thing
M says
woman is symbol of modesty
N says
nails increase the beauty of woman
O says
woman is an pretty ornament
P says
woman is princess
Q says
woman is queen
R says
woman is rare gift
S says
woman is a main source of survival the human being
T says
woman has true spirits of love
U says
woman is an peaceful umbrella
V says
woman is valley of love
W says
woman is wafer
X says
woman has sweet kisses
Y says
woman is your jewellary
z says
woman has great zeal

april 11,2008
abdul razaq

poem by Abdul Razaq
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Restrictions Will Be Lifted

No fear needed.
We are in the midst of a leader.
One who is determined,
A discipline comes.

One who knows the value of hard work!
And one who is prepared,
To introduce it to everyone.

Serious and fun loving.
And determined to instill a quality.
When time comes to work...
That will be done.
And everyone will come to know...
Exactly what that means.

Fear not the rumors of enemies.
Those concentrated times are done.
That needed leader has arrived.
And no one American will misunderstand...
Just what this leader demands,
From every woman, child and man.

And no one will be heard asking...
Who is in command.
Restrictions will be lifted,
From anyone once lost in confusion.
Those days...
Like deceptions and fantasies,
Have gone!

Very few will concern themselves,
As to who is afflicted with laziness.
In these economic times we face.

Very...
Few!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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