Confessional Hurt
Holding the ladder
I was hungry
looking at the waiting dawn.
Raw landscape:
narcissism
forages the belly.
Picking up the figs
from passion flowers.
Is that right?
Can you sow the seeds
on a cloud?
Unclothed words?
Stealthily
a guerilla smashes
a summary of centre.
A falconer
releases a prey
to feed an anarchy.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The falcone cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...
quote by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picking It Up
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
It is a strategy that one should seek.
With satisfaction first examined.
To make sure that one increases harmony!
With a proactive way,
Of life to live.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
It is the heat that one releases.
When nothing satisfies to analyzing eyes...
Only seeing with a vision that's fixed.
As if in a tunnel,
To rip through quick.
It's not a riddle when one plays it second fiddle,
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
With proactive actions to prevent blurs.
And...
Don't be vague!
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
One should think of self assurance that endures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bombs Away
The general scratches his belly and thinks
His pay is good but his officers stink
Guerilla girl, hard and sweet
A military man would love to meet
The president looks in the mirror and speaks
His shirts are clean but his country reeks
Unpaid bills
In afghanistan hills
Bombs away
But were ok
Bombs away
In old bombay
The general only wants to teach france to dance
His army life doesnt give him any romance
Guerilla girl, hard and sweet
A military man would love to meet
The general scratches his belly and thinks
His pay is good but his company stinks
Guerilla girl, hard and sweet
A military man would love to meet
Bombs away
But were ok
Bombs away
In old bombay
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For My Dog Amber Who Died A Year Ago
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
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Belly rub
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ladder To The Sun
From the very start
Came Earth parted
Broke up into pieces and
I was sure I could have missed it
It could risked it
But I put myself into your hands
Cause you're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
You're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
I can run my courses
Opposing forces
Then I...
If you want me you can have me
Oh take me, oh baby grab me
Cause if you want me then you can have me
Cause you're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
You're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
you cannot run
I had it all and I risked it
I had it all and I risked it all
And I risked it all
And I risked it all
A ladder to the
A Ladder to the sun
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
And I risked it all
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
And I risked it all
I risked it all
I had it all
I risked it all
A ladder to the sun
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Infancy determines you
Every human strives
To feed its belly, ego and sex,
In that order in his infancy.
Those short-fed thence
Would drive one ever since,
For its fulfillment,
Through out one’s life.
A leader is ego thirsty.
A lecher is sex hungry.
A greedy is food hungry.
15.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Overall, the anarchy was the most creative of all periods of Japanese culture for in it there appeared the greatest landscape painting, the culmination of the skill of landscape gardening and the arts of flower arrangement, and the No drama.
quote by J.M. Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Hungry Belly
MY HUNGRY BELLY
Melvin Banggollay
I write this to once more in memory
refresh my mind of my past history
To inspire those now living in poverty
to have hope to be out of such malady.
When I was a kid I always have a belly
Hungry for food for my father's salary
Was not really enough to feed our family
Though he worked so hard everyday.
He always told me, be patient buddy
God is not sleeping to show us the way
To feed you well to have no hungry belly
if we work and trust in Him faithfully.
When I was in the college, I often envy
My board mate to have eaten well daily
While I lament for I felt that my dear belly
was pulling my intestine without mercy.
As I felt dizzy for I have not eaten a day
I laid in my bed and tearfully asked mercy
For God to touch my aching hungry belly
and fill it with food to keep me alive today.
Then I felt aslept and dreamt of my daddy
Working so hard to support my study
Saying to me, 'son, just be patient today
but do your best, you'll eat all someday'.
I woke up and drunk water for I was thirsty
As if I traveled far to reach my destiny
but deep in my heart, I thank my daddy
for inspiring me sail even in my fantasy.
Then a friend who encouraged me
to join in their evangelical ministry
Sharing God's wisdom to the needy
Gave me a gift, a penny for my belly
That until today I have not repay.
But I vow to share that gift to anybody
to the forgotten, the poor and the needy
For what profit a man If he has so many
But can't have the light of eternally glory.
Poverty inspired me to excel in my study
As my father always told to me repeatedly
'Only your education be my only legacy
I can ever give to arm you to fight poverty'.
With God''s grace, I finished my degree
In spite having sailed with hungry belly
And when my parents saw me on the day
I took my diploma, tears of their joy I see.
Now that I could earned much for my family
I promised not to let any of my children envy
their board mate who can eat well everyday
but them to be sharing food for the needy.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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The Final Painting
The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds
poem by Lee Harwood
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Feed The Monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes the monkey
Well gather 'round and let me tell you all a story
About a boy and his monkey
He's got that kind of monkey that the girls wanna know
He likes to take his monkey every place that he goes
(Can we pet your monkey?)
Hey, ho, you see the monkey?
Did you know you made my monkey hungry?
I didn't really know how it get so hungry
I'd like to know
Would you feed the monkey?
Well you can pet my monkey
'Cause my monkey don't bite
But when you pet my monkey
He get funky all night
My monkey ain't no ordinary orangutang
'Cause my monkey likes to do the wild thing
My monkey don't scratch
My monkey don't bite
My monkey don't swing no tree
My monkey don't hit
My monkey don't drool
My monkey be swing with me
My monkey don't freak
My monkey don't trip
My monkey don't wear no cape
But you can tell what my monkey wanna eat
'Cause it turn into a big ol' ape
Yeah...
Hey..
The monkey's getting hungry
Hey, hey, why don't you feed your monkey?
(REPEAT x 3)
What she want?
She wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
You know she want
You know she want
You know she wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
Hey, hey, she likes to feed the monkey
Ooh, she's sayin' it's time to feed the monkey
Everyday she wants to feed the monkey
All through the day she likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 7)
Feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 19)
She likes to feed the monkey
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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6...
thought-like-smoke
reshaping to the sway
ah, the breeze!
birds and she
prey on debris
only bird-belly filled!
tigers at bay
deer grazing at peace
reign of flowers!
cloud canopy
lonesome and brooding
girl in solitude
what the other
bank holds in store
my canoe...
deceiving
stillness settles on sands
beware, beware!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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About words entwining themselves within
There are so many tears
In this black void of your silence
'Cause you have been hurt so many times.
There are so many painful memories
In the gray shadow of those seconds
' Cause the world around you was crumbling,
So many times, the world inside you.
I am drinking the pain from the cup of your soul
Until the cup is empty,
Leaving a bit love at the bottom,
Looking like the coffee grounds.
Your love is sweet
Like acacia seeds.
I eat the seeds,
Your love seeds.
In that cup of your soul,
Your love is looking like a true love song,
Transparent and wet.
Your love is wet like a kiss.
Your heart is a rhapsody, entwining within my sad heart.
I miss you in so many ways sometimes,
I want and I miss that kiss,
I kiss your absence,
When I'm not with you..
We feed our souls
With love words,
Belonging to God.
My words pass between your teeth
Encountering yours
And the silence between them.
Their taste is like honey.
Our love is like honey.
It's our moon.
Do you want me now?
I want you now.
If you don't want me now
Just tell me
And we may both stay hungry.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Wonderful Seeds
What does sprout from seeds?
The flowers might, but do not war with deeds.
Then a darling panting comes from the breathing space,
Wonders adjust the expenses of the body, and this is the case.
The seeds of wonderful nature collide with the wind
To sprint in the sand and loam, all agog, all dinned.
Such surprise! Such a soil of wonderment!
The seeds from seeds are springing into flowers and abandonment.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Untold Dark To Conceive Light
very close to death
the man who waits for dawn
ringing the bell midnight burns
who knows how far the daybreak
perplexed the clock
would it run with habit
which deserves to be dictator
death dawn time
three limits unlimited
waiting and beyond
wisdom simply the confusion
someone rules by catching low merit
someone bowing obedience
the circus unlimited
man nearing to death
dawn waiting to touch the feet
and poet observes silently
can't speak
can't communicate
simply writes
some senseless words
wish to feed it up by senses
Pranab k c
Edited on 13/10/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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A Hunter
in the forest of life
a hunter kept searching
for a prey to stalk
and salt for a meal or two.
stealthily he moved
afraid of dry leaves underfoot
eyes fixed on a prey.
lo! without warning
the prey's image got blurred.
disappointed he trudged
only to meet a similar fate
home bound he trekked
a man bitter at fate
yet no one promised anything.
poem by Kelvin Karani
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If There's A God In Heaven (What's He Waiting For?)
Torn from their families
Mothers go hungry
To feed their children
But children go hungry
There's so many big men
They're out making millions
When poverty's profits
Just blame the childrenIf there's a God in heaven
What's he waiting for
If He can't hear the children
Then he must see the war
But it seems to me
That he leads his lambs
To the slaughter house
And not the promised landDying for causes
They don't understand
We've been taking their futures
Right out of their hands
They need the handouts
To hold back the tears
There's so many crying
But so few that hearIf there's a God in heaven
Well, what's he waiting forIf there's a God in heaven
What's he waiting for
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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The Second Coming
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of i{Spiritus Mundi}
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at laSt,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Poem
This poem is a gift
Free words
Under the stench of a barbed wire world
Flowers that live on
After the flowers have been blown from the graves
In the midst of war
These words are a gift
A balm for the poor hungry mouth
To feed on
After the nightmare of carnage
Of lines written in blood
On broken walls
Where fathers and their families lie
Still and swollen in unmarked plots
These words are a gift
They are free
Washing the wounds
Making speech live on
Even after so much darkness
They are the lightness
Bringing light
yvette smith june 12 2009
poem by Yvette Smith
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Truth Goodness And Beauty
I've been waiting for the lies to end
Holding for the bad to go
I've been hanging for the ugliness to change
Waiting for a world too true
Holding for a world too good
Hanging for a world too beautiful
Wishing for a girl too true
Hoping for a girl too good
Hungry for a girl too beautiful
'All I say is a lie,' she sighs
Nothing I say is true
'And all I do is bad,' she cries
Nothing I do is good
And yeah all I am is ugly
Nothing I am is beautiful at all
Don't get this world
I don't get this girl
So look, but you won't see it
Listen, and you won't hear it
Reach out, and you won't hold it
You can't know it, but you can free it
You can't name it, but could feel it
I've been waiting for the lies to end
Holding for the bad to go
I've been hanging for the ugliness to change
Waiting for a world too true
Holding for a world too good
Hanging for a world too beautiful
Wishing for a girl...like you
Hoping for a girl...like you
Hungry for a girl...like you
No...not like you...you
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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