Season’s Change
When the debate between
temple versus state was heating up,
death was passing through a green field.
A nervous embrace
of solatium was unstable.
A heap of flip-flops could not
hold steady, little
poems fluttering in the heart.
Was it the will of God?
The stampede was the anathema
of hunger, the curse of a
whore was working.
Instead of food and alms,
a mass burial makes
me insane.
Was it possible that spring
was far behind? When brassica
blooms, will you forget? Is it not true?
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Better At The Buttom
I'm just a flip-flops,
A really cute one,
& you're just normal,
that everyone has.
I am just lying,
but I wish its true,
for me to be a flip-flops,
A really cute one.
I wish you know
Why I'm doing this poem.
For you to be touched,
Throughout your life.
In your every single-step,
You improve a lot.
I'm just a flip-flops
that supports you a lot.
Continue your dreams,
take me as your mentor.
I'm just a flip-flops
And I wish it's true
poem by Rudy Rico Castillo
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Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder” (The Billion-Dollar Question)
We must all stay aware…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder….,
It’s been increasing for years….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can’t dare turn our backs….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
It’ll sneak up and kill us…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
It’s hard to believe and conceive….
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
That’s why so many are blind….,
To the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
We’ve seen the bloody attacks…..,
Of the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
So we must face the facts….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Yes they’re after us all…,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….,
Their radical religion condones it….,
The Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder ….! ! !
Can we control it or stop it….,
So it won’t go any further….? ? ?
That’s the billion-dollar question….,
On the Insane Culture Of Mass-Murder …! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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Insane
Somebody told me it was over
Nobody told me where it began
No one believes in you
I understand
Like a blind man
Whos lost his way
No one hears a word
Of what you say
I forgive you
Would you do the same
I would believe you
If only youd be true
I would believe if it were true
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane insane
I dont know where youve been looking
I think its only in your mind
Its tied so tight inside of you
All the thoughts unkind
I would believe you
If only youd be true
I would believe if it were true
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane
Insane
I would believe you
If only youd be true
Im getting older
And I cant escape time
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same for me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane
Cause everybody wants to be a winner
Nobody wants to lose their game
Its the same or me
Its the same for you
Its insane insane insane insane insane
Insane insane insane insane insane insane
Insane
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hunger
the hunger thinks the rice
can chew both skin and bone
the hunger thinks it's nice
to eat although forlorn
the hunger thinks the corn
can swallow ears and eyes
deaf blind hunger born
self eaten within it dies
the hunger thinks the food
is just a body's unfair breath
the hunger knows the interlude
no food the body eats itself
the hunger thinks the body rotten
is just a place to survive and eat
the hunger of the lost and forgotten
makes its way to the last heart beat
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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first September chill;
sound of flip-flops go flip flop
the geese standing still
haiku by Alice Cuenca
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Which Poems Are True and Which Poems Only A Story?
WHICH POEMS ARE TRUE AND WHICH POEMS ONLY A STORY?
Which poems are true
and which poems only a story?
There are poems I have to write
They are the heart of who I am-
And other poems that tell a story my mind makes
And takes me where I do not know I'll ever really be-
There are real poems and there are imaginary poems-
And there are poems-in- between like this one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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One with Darkness
When ever I go out I go out fighting
Screaming for chance to finally end up dying
I have to murder to fulfill my end of this deal
Death is imminent, but something that I’ll never feel.
This is my curse, this is my curse
Sign upon the bloody line I should’ve thought of first
This is my curse, this is my curse
This is my curse, this is my curse
Killing for a living this can’t get any worse
This is my curse, this is my curse
How can I ever love someone else
When murder is my life, and I can’t even love myself
Every night I wake up next to another dead whore
Someone please stop me I don’t want to murder anymore
poem by Justin Schock
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Curse Upon You
Curse upon you
And embrace your fate
It runs in your blood
It traces in your skin
The poison of love
The venom of desire
Curse upon you
And bless over the other
It makes you commit a sin
It makes you full of envy
For the glow in their eyes
For the warmth of the sun
Curse upon you
And you despise your own existence
You rather die than to hurt
You rather gone than to destroy
The thing you hold dear
The precious you don't want to lose
Curse upon you
And darkness following
It raises the deepest fear
It brings the painful sorrow
Of forever loneliness
Of unrequited dream
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Outside&Calm 1 Oct 2011
On The Outside
At home alone - kids visiting
you asleep, Carine called, she
can walk without crutches, her
leg is healed; wish it could be
the same for her broken heart
It will take two full years at least
she says she can never forget
she still laments her mother's
death eight years ago, yet -
time heals every injury
Patience will prove the adage
true; she shall be independent
even if she thinks the memory
of her friend's death will never
be erased from her mind
Everything keeps improving
step by little step; thank you
Carine, the image of you
healthy again makes me
ecstatically happy
Even if I am only on the out-
side - as stepmother of
course…
Calm and Well (Revised)
As a child I hated the life I was born into,
detested humanity, averse to everything about
my overexcited brain in a family where the misery
of nervous tension was normality - no-one ever
calmed down - led to multiple allergies
The body changes when a new personality asserts;
as a child I inadvertently programmed myself to
think of mealtimes and food as the worst possible
experience in my life, mind in overdrive as
family interaction drove me nearly insane
Today I can't eat breakfast unless the allergic
reaction food triggers is mollified by migraine
medication - if I eat something wholesome to
stabilise blood sugar, unbearable depression
and pain reduces me to a zombie state
I am Marvin the Paranoid Android, a state
so unnatural doctors and dieticians cannot
rectify it, I live a precarious balance between
excessive pain and being comfortable as a
submissive human being
I marvel at the Dog Whisperer - my psyche is an
anxious, uncalmable dog unable to live in the now,
maybe my brain is that of a canine who needs the
right discipline - if only I knew how to provide it
in order to feel calm and well permanently
[When I eat whole-wheat breakfast cereal my eyes go out of focus,
electricity dance in leaping flames in my head and I become too
depressed to pick up my pen - or anything else. When I eat other
things like fatty bacon and eggs or chicken mayonnaise, a migraine
pill relieves the distress and I do not become so depressed - simply
put on weight at an alarming rate, nearly choking myself with the
growing girth around my midriff - and eating nothing is not possible
as hunger and light-headedness make working and concentration
impossible. I am still trying to reprogram my mind to reprogram my
body to secrete different chemicals in different amounts, convinced
that life as a calm, stable, submissive canine type would be much
easier without the horrific allergy symptoms. My diary notes
explain all this.]
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Quest
The space was widening. Opacity was
Being. Antimatter in. You were scared.
Why this disintegration? Unthinkable hunger,
Incompleteness. Antithesis of universality. My
smallness. His greatness. The heat sucks the
blooms. Celestial dance of the destroyer begins.
The body makes I. Soul is me. The death
was climbing up the stairs. Hiding
in attic you were singing, refusing to see
the visitor, Dismissal of blast. Was a global
failure. How many bodies you are going to
count? Not enough graves. Mass burial?
or descent in tower of silence?
The sludge. Delta is disappearing. Nystagmus.
No land to build a home. Withdrawal. Poachers
are killing the tigers. Claws for power, killer’s
strength. A tall tree stands on ridge, meditating.
Peacocks are watching. Will be their turn
now? Eyes on the plumage. For clarity,
vision and wisdom.
poem by Satish Verma
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Ode to Divorce
I
Ode to you despicable thing
You rot and scorn my heart
Oh you beast of forever’s lovers
Hath you no feeling?
Oh to you cause of my tears
Morning comes too near
II
He leaves me lonely
Tearing up my sheets
Instead of heating them
You scoundrel, hypocrite
You never loved me
It was a dream
III
You broke my heart
My heart that beats, pounds
Only for you
Pain me dear Lord
This I cannot deserve
This word
This beast
This devil
IV
He is not kind
Ah, grief
For what is lost
My beloved mate
Gone to another’s
Arms
V
He calls himself free
He is not distraught
This villain of families
Oh kill him
Let him pass this house
Let my lover stay
From this day
VI
Disgust…
Despise…
Lies…
Death…
Despair…
VII
Breakup my home
You fool
You shall not!
You con
You shall not!
VII
I cannot make him love me
I cannot petal his rose
I cannot breathe his last breath
I cannot live if he lives
Within us
VIII
Shall I curse at this criminal?
Shall I bound him
He hates me
He loathes me
Ah, how lucky is he
To have had and lost
Rather than have and keep
Curses upon you
You demon
IX
Loathing torment despot
You brought it here
To this god-forsaken place
This irony of Green
You will still seek Green
Quickly
Once found
Marriage again
You whore
Be gone and never return to this my home
poem by Cynthia Yildirim
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I Am The People, The Mob
I Am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is
done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the
world's food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons
come from me and the Lincolns. They die. And
then I send forth more Napoleons and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand
for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me.
I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted.
I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and
makes me work and give up what I have. And I
forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red
drops for history to remember. Then--I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the
People, use the lessons of yesterday and no longer
forget who robbed me last year, who played me for
a fool--then there will be no speaker in all the world
say the name: 'The People,' with any fleck of a
sneer in his voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob--the crowd--the mass--will arrive then.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Art Lives Around You
You are a gallery itself.
You show spring visiting with taking off a jacket.
Wind crushes against a cotton shirt.
Your feet with pedicure and flip-flops shine on summer afternoon.
You tell fall with a dark brown knit
A heavy coat covers you baring a simple smile that makes me warmed up.
A flame is ignited.
Art lives around you.
Dear people, flowers just around the corner, and skies I look up to
You are art itself
Ashes In The Fall
a mass of hands press on the market window
ghosts of progress
dresed in slow death
feeding on hunger
and glaring through the promise
Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle
a mass of nameless at the oasis
that hides the graves beneath the master's hill
are buried for drinking
the river's water
*unfinished*
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loop De Loop
(laughter)
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Have you ever been in airplane
When the flyin circus comes to town
Count your change
You can come and walk the wing with me
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Peepin and a-hidin in and out of the cloud
The leader lost a hanky wavin down at the crowd
The barnstorm down but the rooster on the weather vane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Huffin and a-puffin flyin high as she can
A patchwork quilt stretches over the land
Well toss and tumble and sail her right in to the sun
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop gotcha in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Ha ha
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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9th May 2001
Horses galloped along and the fruits fell down but,
The clouds of love are now around you;
And you better keep up your mind straight for the fairy maidens.
The peaches of life is like your beautiful fruit of love,
So i need to pluck them young before they overgrow;
And better it is eaten raw than boiled,
Because the clouds of love are now around you!
I do share your grief and your pain,
With 126 dead bodies recorded on the 'Black Wednesday'!
And now,9th May 2001 is part of Ghana's history.
From a single burial to the mass burial,
But try to dream your years away when you sleep with love;
Because life is so cruel at times,
And like the story from the 33rd to the 36th parallel at the stadium.
It was a match between Accra Hearts of Oak and Kumasi Asanta Kotoko,
.......................and, it is a goal-oal-oal! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
But the state of the joyful minds turned sour;
With the tragedy from the stadium's stampede,
9th May 2001 at the Accra Sports Stadium! !
And 126 people were recorded dead.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Red Rose
The red rose wept for long
Upon the autumn sad song
And then recovered from grief
And shattered the wet green leaf
The spring is there but the tears
Of lover, the autumn how bears
The little heart in search of charm
Is beating and beating and warm
The red rose is watching the gloom
Of the lover’s heart being in boom
His beloved had nodded him back
The rose from him she does not take
The nature feeling warmth is now cold
The autumn will take him in firm hold
The beauty will go leaving the scars
Of drowning moon and falling stars
The thorns will curse the rose to retreat
The red rose weeps on nature’s treat
It doesn’t matter what have gone
The rose will wait for the dawn
The spring no more helps the friend
His beauty will shatter like wall of sand
His days of life will end very soon
At morn, at noon or after noon
The rose sees autumn in the spring
A wave of sorrow his end will bring
The red rose weeps and weeps more
Upon these tears his eyes will sore
No spring can stop, no joy can amaze
With each passing moment his death he chase
So times are when autumn comes in spring
No joy can touch you no nerve can sing
February 16,2005
poem by Abdul Sattar
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On a Small Touch of Hunger
A small touch of hunger sometimes is good
True hunger in truth never being good
While flase hunger is something for which to watch
Food being the great drug of our time
With which we anesthetize much more than hunger
Beware food as a drug which masks the deeper pain.
poem by Bill Grace
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A Little Language
I know a little language of my cat, though Dante says
that animals have no need of speech and Nature
abhors the superfluous. My cat is fluent. He
converses when he wants with me. To speak
is natural. And whales and wolves I’ve heard
in choral soundings of the sea and air
know harmony and have an eloquence that stirs
my mind and heart—they touch the soul. Here
Dante’s religion that would set Man apart
damns the effluence of our life from us
to build therein its powerhouse.
It’s in his animal communication Man is
true, immediate, and
in immediacy, Man is all animal.
His senses quicken in the thick of the symphony,
old circuits of animal rapture and alarm,
attentions and arousals in which an identity rearrives.
He hears
particular voices among
the concert, the slightest
rustle in the undertones,
rehearsing a nervous aptitude
yet to prove his. He sees the flick
of significant red within the rushing mass
of ruddy wilderness and catches the glow
of a green shirt
to delite him in a glowing field of green
—it speaks to him—
and in the arc of the spectrum color
speaks to color.
The rainbow articulates
a promise he remembers
he but imitates
in noises that he makes,
this speech in every sense
the world surrounding him.
He picks up on the fugitive tang of mace
amidst the savory mass,
and taste in evolution is an everlasting key.
There is a pun of scents in what makes sense.
Myrrh it may have been,
the odor of the announcement that filld the house.
He wakes from deepest sleep
upon a distant signal and waits
as if crouching, springs to life.
poem by Robert Duncan
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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