A Tumultuous Welcome
Tell me about the bluetoothed man,
of his stark naked truth, in toe
for a brief pause. The toll was mounting.
The tallest fraud of chilling facts. The city of
cold murders of hermaphrodite. The sex of
meanest level to become rich in seduction of wooly legs.
The wasps were hovering home. The stings
of famous wives.
Predicament of deficit bombs. Motivated artillary.
It is incursion of sterling thieving, of sisyphean
pain. The plaques were becoming honorable.
The spoon bills landing on dry lake.
Bracing the embattled knees, I dismantle my
life to start again from living the
death of beautiful.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, frisking along;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, bleating a song;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, wearing fur-coat,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, looking so bright!
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, eating green grass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, let me first pass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, grazing so nice,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, what a surprise!
One of my first Children's Rhymes
poem by John Celes
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Please Keep The Pain
please keep the pain
do not attempt to throw pain away
please be patient
do not scream do not tell the neighbors
do not shame pain by running wildly on the streets
screaming about your pain
please do not create a scandal for this
honorable family in pain
please keep the pain for a while and be honorable
there is decency in pain
keep this pain with a clean face on a smooth disposition
let your arms lay there
appease the pain
as though pain is a baby that you want to put to sleep
soon it will go
nothing is permanent in this world
nothing will last forever
the pain may not subside but soon it will have its right time
it decides to go by itself
there is no choice
we will have this pain too
our pains in silence
because we are honorable too
you will never know
we will never tell you we are decently in pain too
we are honorable
we do not make presumptions that we will survive
but we will
these pains that make us decent and honorable
our faces will not show these pains
we will not even tell
we just keep them without complaining
we are decent we are honorable
we are the survivors
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Naked City
All the victims have turned to stone, no one is happy, theyre all alone
Id sacrifice my social position tonight
In new york, millionaires, and lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city (in the city) there are ten million stories (naked city)
Im not lookin for pity (in the city) in this naked city (naked city)
Street vampires in the night, young lovers and love at first sight
This is my flesh and my fantasy
Older women with younger men, Ive got a feelin Im in trouble again
But Ive got to live my destiny
In the naked city (in the city) its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
In the naked, naked city (in the city) naked city
Lonely people lookin for someone, lonely people goin their way
Lonely people lookin for something, lonely people goin their way
In new york, millionaires, lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city, there are ten million stories
Im not lookin for pity in this naked city
In the naked, naked city (in the city), its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
(in the city, naked city) (repeats out)
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of the Murdered Merchant
All stark and cold the merchant lay,
All cold and stark lay he.
And who hath killed the fair merchant?
Now tell the truth to me.
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Will never again draw breath;
Oh, I have made this fair merchant
To come unto his death.
Oh, why hast thou killed this fair merchant
Whose corpse I now behold?
And why hast caused this man to lie
In death all stark and cold?
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Whose kith and kin make moan,
For that he hath stolen my precious time
When he useth the telephone.
The telephone bell rang full and clear;
The receiver did I seize.
"Hello!" quoth I, and quoth a girl,
"Hello! . . . One moment, please."
I waited moments ane and twa,
And moments three and four,
And then I sought the fair merchant
And spilled his selfish gore.
That business man who scorneth to waste
His moments sae rich and fine
In calling a man to the telephone
Shall never again waste mine!
And every time a henchwoman
Shall cause me a moment's loss,
I'll forthwith fare to that office
And stab to death her boss.
Rise up! Rise up! thou blesséd knight!
And off thy bended knees!
Go forth and slay all folk who make
Us wait "One moment, please."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Depression
Depression. Not darkness of living,
but absolute absence of motivation
weighed down by stark self examination -
neither blame nor call for self forgiving.
Mistake. Little take and far less giving.
Life lead as conditional probation -
sentence to be served, with condemnation
implicit self-destruction. Misgiving
lies leitmotif, lost life light, life, t[h]rust thieving
til one’s ends met bear no perceived relation
to pain's sharp stings, while alter[c]ation
is seen upon reflection as outliving
hope's scope in time, as atrophy begins
to paralyse - no roses, violins...
18 June 2005 revised 12 November 2008
robi03_1279_robi03_0000 SXX_JUX
For previous version see below
DEPRESSION
Depression. Not darkness of living,
but utter absence of motivation
combined with stark self examination, -
neither blame nor call for self forgiving.
Little take, and even less giving,
with life as conditional probation -
sentence to be served, with condemnation
implicit self-destruction. Misgiving
leitmotif, leit, light and life, soul sieving
til one’s ends met bear no perceived relation
to pain endured by friends as alter(c) ation
is seen upon reflection as outliving
a given time, as atrophy begins
to paralyse, - no roses, violins...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Man Who Climbs The Highest Pole Of The Bridge...
at the highest bridge on the city of
Cebu a man in his twenties
climbs the pole and sits there overlooking
the city
the City is in panic
for he must be saved
his name is taken: Juan
Molina,32 years old,
a thief, jobless, and without
any known relatives
and he is so hungry
and it is so hot at the top
and he is coming down
if there is something to
eat
they thought he is going to jump
and kill himself
which is not the fact of the case
he simply wants to see
the whole damned city
of leaders who cannot understand
that he too needs work
to have money to buy something to
eat to pay for the rent of his boarding space,
his bills, and his toothpaste
and soap
all the while the city is angry
this man must be sent to prison
we are so disturbed
and he creates the massive
confusion
sad, sad city.
suicidal masses
luxurious lifestyles of the rich and
the famous elite
most of the poor and the
lost do not ask anymore where is God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Salisbury
In the city of Salisbury, I was born
On a cold and snowy winter's morn.
Now I am living some miles away,
But I often take a trip there for a day.
Through its streets, I love to roam;
When I am there, it feels like home.
To the City, I still feel a connection;
For the City, I still feel much affection.
I love the City's great atmosphere;
The Cathedral bells, I love to hear.
Visitors flock from both near and far;
The towering Cathedral is its big star.
I love its mixture of old and new;
I love its style; its charming views.
It isn't a city which is run of the mill;
Its character, progress, has not killed.
To that City, I will always belong.
The bond between us is still strong.
In the city of Salisbury, my life did start;
I want to rest there when, this life, I depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Hey Now Princess (demo Version)
by Jack Bruce and Pete Brown
Look here Princess
I'm not just here for you
So take off in your new Rolls Royce
I've got things to do
Look here Princess
I gave you everything
But now I want it all back
So I can start some living
Look here Princess
I want to be famous and rich
So I can be empty and bitter like you
Sitting home with nothing to do
Princess look now
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad
Look here Princess
Now I'm singin' this sad song
About a man in a kennel
Who cries all day long
Look here Princess
Don't shut me out for good
But keep me in mind for later
Like I always knew you would
Look here Princess
I'm in a desert now
I don't see no way out
You've got to show me how
Look here now Princess
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad
Look here Princess
I'm not just here for you
So take off in your new Rolls Royce
I've got things to do
Look here Princess
I gave you everything
But now I want it all back
So I can start some living
Look here Princess
I want to be famous and rich
So I can be empty and bitter like you
Sitting home with nothing to do
Princess look now
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spirit Level
The Spirit level lifts us high,
Our standards to reform.
The Lord is love and love can't die,
It's hot not cold or warm
Are you living for Lord Jesus
Or the evil Devil?
If we're willing, God will teach us
About the Spirit level.
The Spirit level guides each one
Who's open to God's Word
And thanks God's Son for all He's done
And mercy that's occurred.
It's only by the Lamb of God
That we can still be saved
Forgiven by Christ shedding blood
And not how we've behaved.
So little love is seen on Earth,
Yet love begins at home
And yet each stranger's heart has worth
Wherever we may roam
Compassion's for the rich and poor,
Each soul needs God's embrace
Keep up the good work evermore,
Triumphant in God's grace
The Spirit level lifts us high,
Our standards to reform.
The Lord is love and love can't die,
It's hot not cold or warm
Are you living for Lord Jesus
Or the evil Devil?
If we're willing, God will teach us
About the Spirit level.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Shimmering
The sizzling legs wait for
an infinitesimal pause
to learn on approaching zero.
I am not cultish:
the egg has walked out
on a dwarf mother.
The dead horse was rising
after eating dirt. Naked
flame will decide for –
the rights of a man in a
hot night. Deferred a perfect
landing on cherries. The
colors were fighting
for the supremacy of
twisted necks.
poem by Satish Verma
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How Y' Livin'
I should have seen the signs you showed me
So many times, in so many ways
On a never ending journey though the cold light of day
Cold light of day
I spent nearly all my time
Thinking I know you but I still got my doubts
Little things to try to work you out
Playing on my mind
Will you leave her now
Like you left me then
Just forgot and leave me
With just enough to start again
Start a brand new life
Maybe have some kids
Never facing facts and never looking back
How y' livin',
Are y' living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her right
How y' livin'
Are y' living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her,
Treating her right
I don't see you anymore
Heard you're married
But you never know
You've never married enough to not want to let them go
You never fight enough to not want to fight no more
Just keep moving on,
Find another girl
Go out and party and make sure that she rocks your world
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her right
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin"
Are you treating her,
Treating her right
How y' livin baby,
Have you done what's right
How y' livin baby,
Are you treating her right
How y' livin' baby
Have you done what's right
How y' livin' baby,
Are you treating her,
Treating her right
RAP: Haven't seen you for a while
Can I come over baby
Damm you're looking good,
What's happened to you lately
I've been cruising round, checking out the scene
Fancy seeing you, are you still feeling angry
Time to move on, make a little wish
I know I treated you bad
But I've grown up since
I want to make a change
Get it right with you
I'm begging on my knees
Have I moved a little too soon?
Have you got a man, does he treat you good
Do you feel the same now, are you still turned on?
A blast from the past, take a load off
You and me got a past that don't stop and won't stop
Pack your bags up, take a ride with me
In my black jeep we're going to get busy
I'm living right, without you is wrong
The sun don't shine if you're walking alone.
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her right
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her,
Treating her right
How y' livin' baby
Have you done what's right
How y' livin baby
Are you treating her right
How y' livin' baby
Have you done what's right
How y' livin baby,
Are you treating her right,
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating, treating her right
How y' livin'
Are you living your life
How y' livin'
Are you treating her,
Treating her right.
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside The Mind
prisoner of retribution,
he was buried under a salt lake,
elusive, his crotch,
not far from stings of wasps,
the blood spills,
he would wonder how to catch the truth
in black river,
wrapped in imperforated causes,
leaking with curses,
black conjugation of greeds,
with the grief unbuckling the grudges,
uncut wounds, festering under the skin,
the stink starts scything, he starts
folding the denials, in self praise
poem by Satish Verma
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Murders In The Rue Morgue
I remember it as plain as day
although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of Paris
and it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
and I rushed to the scene of the crime
but all I found was the butchered remains
of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
run before the killers go free
There's some people coming down the street
at last there's someone heard my call
I can't understand why they're pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
because everyone's shouting at me
I can't speak French so I couldn't explain
and like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free.
And now I've gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All France is looking for me.
I've gotta find my way across the border for sure
down the south to Italy.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
someone call the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
I'm never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I can't erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well I'm moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day they'll be looking for me
'Cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the arms of the law
Murders in the Rue Morgue
running from the Gendarmes
Murders in the Rue Morgue
am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and I'm getting so tired
I'm running out of places to hide
Should I return to the scene of the crime
Where the two young victims died
If I could go to somebody for help
It'd get me out of trouble for sure
But I know that it's on my mind
That my doctor said I've done it before.
Murders in the Rue Morgue
they're never gonna find me
Murders in the Rue Morgue
I'm never going home.
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasp
Her slender waist resembles a wasp
And she goes on the muddy road never stops.
Unlike bees, wasps are largely carnivorous
And their species, digger wasps, sand wasps & mud wasps
But you are a kind woman and I am sure you do not have a formidable sting
Please do not hurt me as I am scared of wasps.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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By the end of this...
By the end of this poem you will love death
because death is a figure of speech
as heaven and hell
to all that believe
they will be deceived
By the end of this stanza you will love death
you don't see death
he sees you
and who am I to say he?
he, she I don't know
My the end of this line you will love death
Death is your friend
when you are tired and sad
you can summon him
with the flick of a knife
by the end of this word you will love death
death is beautiful
don't deal with the pain
don't deny the beauty
don't sacrifice your life to living
something so insignificant
your ego will kill your pride
Now comes the truth
it was coming all along
Now at the end of this poem
...You love death
poem by Lady Viola Of The Grave
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Murders In The Rue Morgue
I remember it as plain as day
Although it happened in the dark of the night.
I was strolling through the streets of paris
And it was cold it was starting to rain.
And then I heard a piercing scream
And I rushed to the scene of the crime
But all I found was the butchered remains
Of two girls lay side by side.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Run before the killers go free
Theres some people coming down the street
At last theres someone heard my call
I cant understand why theyre pointing at me
I never done nothing at all.
But I must have got some blood on my hands
Because everyones shouting at me
I cant speak french so I couldnt explain
And like a fool I started running away.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free.
And now Ive gotta get away from the arms of the law.
All france is looking for me.
Ive gotta find my way across the border for sure
Down the south to italy.
Murders in the rue morgue
Someone call the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Im never going home.
Well I made it to the border at last
But I cant erase the scene from my mind
Anytime somebody stares at me, well
I just start running blind
Well Im moving through the shadows at night
Away from the staring eyes
Any day theyll be looking for me
cause I know I show the signs of...
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the arms of the law
Murders in the rue morgue
Running from the gendarmes
Murders in the rue morgue
Am I ever gonna be free
It took so long and Im getting so tired
Im running out of places to hide
Should I return to the scene of the crime
Where the two young victims died
If I could go to somebody for help
Itd get me out of trouble for sure
But I know that its on my mind
That my doctor said Ive done it before.
Murders in the rue morgue
Theyre never gonna find me
Murders in the rue morgue
Im never going home.
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The lake of metaphor
and perhaps I came to poetry too late
to dive, a slimmish youth,
innocent as youth was or is
into the rich waters of the lake of metaphor
fed distantly by mountain springs,
welcoming in its wateriness,
chilling too like a demand for respect,
welcoming and chilling as a life;
a few strokes and already the green bank
and pile of crumpled clothes discarded
quickly distant, and here
in the middle of the lake, the sky
has opened out as if it were
some rival to a mountain-top
and the hands press against
the resistances of language, the palms
flat as between praise and surrender,
cleaving a passage to the depth
and then the shore of metaphor; and
emerging, the sunlight
catching the sparkling water droplets,
the skin shivering but invigorated,
the mind full of life
like a poem rich in metaphor.
Older now,
waiting as in the paintings of Saint Jerome
at his desk walled in by books,
pen poised, eyes uplifted,
spirit, rich, yet
mind not full, but waiting
for the grace of metaphor
like the brushing of a white dove's wing
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Scared to Death
I feel my heart beat as I lie there and breath every breath in.I feel as if im scared to death and nothing there to support me as i fall.I dream dreams that could not have an explination to them.I wake up breathing as hard as before as my feet touch the floor, I am scared to death.I love my life but there comes a time when you just have to admit everything that is wrong.As I breath so calmly and smooth just then i find out the truth.Im scared to death.I walk around with a smile and realize this life has so many 'un-discovered' facts and as we learn the facts i see that the worlds going to waist.Im scared to death.I look around wondering if anyone else knows or feels my pain, only because im scared to death.I wish i could tell someone I wish they would know, so i dont feel as if im in the world alone.Im scared to death.I wonder how i live this life with all the secrets i hold my behind my breath just to realize im scared to death!
poem by Melissa Ramey
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Little Black Girl
As if stuck in the stark naked reality
I see you wondering totally unclothed
in the nearby park,
walking wobbly on small legs
with huge brown and white eyes
looking inquiring at everything
before you start staring into the distance
and somehow I wish that I could protect
your innocence, your sweet childish sincerity,
that I could make you free
from a world filled with starvation
and could like a butterfly give your wings,
to find your own joys in a world
of beautiful and enjoyable things
but that’s not the way that your live is set to go.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Home Which Never Was..........
Faceless fear leaps from the book
I close the chapter.
My ancestors start hovering about my
head
What did I achieve?
Glorified stones and shining plaques
adorn the garden,
round and round my spirit soars. Are
You listening?
Two things always haunted me. Space
and voices. I searched
my atlas and traced my home which
never was.
Nothing will alter my hurt. I am
afraid to lose my soft eye,
roving smell and final judgement.
poem by Satish Verma
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