Singing Darkness
In hirsute adolescence
a narcissist climbs
the breast and becomes
a graveyard of moons.
Talking of marginality,
a hole in the chest
ejects a secret of peachy skin
when wind was selling sex.
Most corrupt was me
always telling truth about the
warm eggs of chaotic legs
who will not climb down the street.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Johannesburg
There are mini-bus taxis everywhere
hooting, swerving, stopping anywhere
and people on the street
shouting to each other
as if they are not
in talking distance,
but as if everybody is deaf.
Some hawkers are selling
sweets, cigarettes and newspapers
while others are cooking maize,
porridge and eggs.
Youngsters stand next to
parking meters showing
open parking spaces
and demanding money
to watch vehicles parked there.
Some hobos sleep
in tattered blankets
and smell of wine
and liquor and the sick
sweet odour or retching.
Prostitutes walk up and down
street corners in mini skirts
and t-shirts
with nipples showing through
and have hello smiles
plastered across their faces.
Some gum sniffing children
beg at traffic lights
with twisted arms and legs
and other beggars
have posters wishing you well
or telling you to go to hell.
People queue in lines
waiting for busses
and some stand smoking
while they talk
and businessmen, lawyers,
soldiers, secretaries
are walking quickly past
with briefcases, satchels,
and handbags
and on the sidewalk
there is urine,
blood, vomit, some rotting food
and smoked cigarettes
and everywhere signs
of a city in a country
that is falling apart.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wont Buy It!
if you're selling salvation
for a one time donation...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling comfort
at the expense of the poor...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling protection
at the cost of individual rights...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling love
bought with diamonds and drugs...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling truth,
but your version of truth...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling today
at the final cost of tomorrow...
i wont buy it!
if you're selling freedom
fed by guns and invasions,
i wont buy it!
get it through your head...
i wont buy it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Warm Skin (demo)
One fatal gift
Arrived here today
Heavenly sent
From the beauticians that pray
Here comes that face
And it's a textural treat
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New
Warm
Skin
New
Warm
Expensive to touch
It's a novocaine skin
Beauty; this beast
Is transparent and thin
This sun can be cruel
I don't want to melt
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New Warm Skin
New Warm Skin
New Warm Skin
New Warm
One fatal gift
Arrived here today
Contorted dreams
Of the beauticians that pray
Crawling out of this heat
And drifting this way
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New Warm Skin
New Warm Skin
New Warm Skin
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd Really Love To See You Tonight
Hello, yea it's been awhile
Not much, how 'bout you
I'm not sure why I called
I guess I really just wanted to talk to you
And I was thinking maybe later on
We could get together for awhile
It's been such a long time
And I really do miss your smile
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
We could go walking through a windy park
Take a drive along the beach
Or stay at home and watch t.v.
You see it really doesn't matter much to me
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I won't ask for promise
So don't have to lie
We both play that game before
Say I love you to say goodbye
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
Babe
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
Tonight
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Warm Skin
One fatal gift
Arrived here today
Heavenly sent
From the beauticians that pray
Here comes that face
And its a textural treat
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New
Warm
Skin
New
Warm
Expensive to touch
Its a novocaine skin
Beauty; this beast
Is transparent and thin
This sun can be cruel
I dont want to melt
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New warm skin
New warm skin
New warm skin
New warm
One fatal gift
Arrived here today
Contorted dreams
Of the beauticians that pray
Crawling out of this heat
And drifting this way
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
New warm skin
New warm skin
New warm skin
Is this a war?
Is this a god?
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Street
In our street, the main street
Running thro' the town,
You see a lot of busy folk
Going up and down:
Bag men and basket men,
Men with loads of hay,
Buying things and selling things
And carting things away.
The butcher is a funny man,
He calls me Dandy Dick;
The baker is a cross man,
I think he's often sick;
The fruiterer's a nice man,
He gives me apples, too;
The grocer says, "Good morning, boy,
What can I do for you?"
Of all the men in our street
I like the cobbler best,
Tapping, tapping at his last
Without a minute's rest;
Talking all the time he taps,
Driving in the nails,
Smiling with his old grey eyes -
(Hush) ... telling fairy tales.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They keep telling us that in war truth is the first casualty, which is nonsense since it implies that in times of peace truth stays out of the sick bay or the graveyard.
quote by Alexander Cockburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Centipede
No need to stay stuck on bended knees,
Get up from that hole and move with speed.
Like you've got the legs of a centipede.
Feel that wind outside your cocoon,
Crooning with a hope you will join it soon.
To fly in the sky like a Butterfly high.
And all you have to do is give it a try.
See those leaves budding on that tree,
Blossoming with giggles as they dance in the breeze.
And that grass below your feet,
Wishing you would move them so they can breathe.
Feel that wind outside your cocoon,
Crooning with a hope you will join it soon.
To fly in the sky like a Butterfly high.
And all you have to do is give it a try.
Get up from that hole and move with speed.
Like you've got the legs of a centipede.
Get up from that hole and move with speed.
Like you've got the legs of a centipede.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Name Is Legs
(i'm not cheating)
Oooh, oooh
Everything is dinky doo
Everything you do
You, the king of la-di-da
Pretty very out far
Never oversits, he understands
Like the back of the hand
He should sing in a band, oh yeah
Oooh, oooh
People think he's loopey loo
And when they look at his shoes
He's a rocking sausage roll
He gets it in the goal
Healthy little 'brown affair'
And when he washes his hair
He'll get a round or a square
Get them singing
Oooh, oooh
Everyone from oxford town
Way down to the rio grande
Knows his harbour quays
His skin tight hands, without seggs
His name is legs
[talking]
Oooh, oooh
Coolies sweating in hong kong
Run along to the mardi grass
Risking asian flu to meet the man
Who lays the eggs
His name is legs
He's a cure for whooping cough
And if the going gets rough
Get lined up, come sikh, come czar
No matter who you are
We could get along and slide a rule
And if you don't play fools
While larry plays pool
You'll hear him singing
Oooh, oooh
[talking]
Oooh, oooh
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Second Skin
The bullets deep, Im not dreaming,
The blood I keep, while youre healing.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Second skin.
Youre riding high, you wont be falling
Dont look behind, Im crawling.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Oh you could have been born to swim,
You could have been born to camouflage.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Does it pull ? a ring around your finger ?
Does it hurt ? and will it linger on ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you have you have you have you x5
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Name Is Legs (Ladies And Gentlemen)
(Im not cheating)
Oooh, oooh
Everything is dinky doo
Everything you do
You, the king of la-di-da
Pretty very out far
Never oversits, he understands
Like the back of the hand
He should sing in a band, oh yeah
Oooh, oooh
People think hes loopey loo
And when they look at his shoes
Hes a rocking sausage roll
He gets it in the goal
Healthy little brown affair
And when he washes his hair
Hell get a round or a square
Get them singing
Oooh, oooh
Everyone from oxford town
Way down to the rio grande
Knows his harbour quays
His skin tight hands, without seggs
His name is legs
[talking]
Oooh, oooh
Coolies sweating in hong kong
Run along to the mardi grass
Risking asian flu to meet the man
Who lays the eggs
His name is legs
Hes a cure for whooping cough
And if the going gets rough
Get lined up, come sikh, come czar
No matter who you are
We could get along and slide a rule
And if you dont play fools
While larry plays pool
Youll hear him singing
Oooh, oooh
[talking]
Oooh, oooh
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Skin
At first I see an open wound infected and disastrous
It breathes chaotic catastrophe it cries to be renewed
Its tears are the color of anger, they dry to form a scab to touch
Its stiff and resilient, underneath, the new skin breathes
As outwardly cliche as it may seem, yes,
Something under the surface says cest la vie
It is a circle, there is a plan dead skin will atrophy itself to start again
Look closely at the open wound see past what covers the surface
Underneath chaotic catastrophe, creation takes stage
Its all been saved with exception for the right parts
When will we be new skin
Its all been seen with esception for what could be
When will we be new skin
Fallacious cognitions spewed from televisions do mold our decisions
So stop and take a look, and youll see what I see now
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secrets, Truth and Lyza
Secret keeps Truth locked away,
Even though Truth wants to get out.
Secret knows better
Than to let Truth out,
Especially with the evil Lyza roaming around
Lyza wants to twist and contort Truth
Until she is no longer recognizable.
Secret is usually more dark and devious
Than protecting of her little sister,
But she will not let Truth or her self
Be a pawn in Lyza’s game this time.
So Secret keeps Truth hidden.
Because we all know,
Almost every dark secret,
Especially ones manipulated by lies,
Has a little truth behind it.
poem by Leah Michele
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Will Glow More
A river was frozen in my chest, O god –
I choose a burning boat to reach you.
My planet has become a broken bridge.
Voiceless hymns are haunting me.
Standing in a remote village of words,
my poetry beside me.
I want to cross the thick woods.
The hairy legs of tarantula –
I am ready to meet them on my body.
A skylark ejects a lyric at my terrace,
I become a flame.
Pour honey, pour water
I will glow more. The sparks will stay hidden.
When the sky would be overcast and dark,
thousands of stars will come out.
Suddenly there will be light.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The honest liar
1. I have to tell you that
In the last conversation we had
All I told you were lies
And with all honesty now
I am telling you
That I am a liar.
2. When you asked me
Whether I am dying
I told you I am not
But I have only
A month to live
That is the truth
But look
I am not responsible for you
I am the one
That is dying here.
It is not you.
3. When we speak
I do not demand that
You tell me the truth
We are talking
Because we are here
What you say to me
Is none of my business
To require that you tell
Me the truth
Is in fact, an overburden
Our agreement is
Simple enough
That we just talk
It is nothing more
But a contract of presence
a conversation.
4. In fact what you say
Is the bonus
And it does not matter
Truth or falsehood
We just talk
For a while
While I am here
I am going somewhere
I am leaving
You will be left
And you still have
All the time to contrive
The choice is yours
I have none anymore
5. so that is it
Keep on talking
As I pretend I am listening
I keep on talking too
But my mind
Forgive me
Is somewhere else
You may not understand
It at first
But you will soon
Understand
This world is not simply meant
For one, for one like me.
Or for us.
6. at this stage
Truth and falsehood
Are irrelevant,
Out there
Is beyond truth and falsehood
It is our place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pressed Rat & Warthog
By ginger baker and mike taylor
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
Sadly they left, telling no one goodbye.
Pressed rat wore red jodhpurs, warthog a striped tie.
Between them, they carried a three-legged sack,
Went straight round the corner and never came back.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
The bad captain madman had told them to stop
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
The bad captain madman had ordered their fate.
He laughed and stomped off with a nautical gate.
The gate turned into a deroga tree
And his pegleg got woodworm and broke into three.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pressed Rat & Warthog
By ginger baker and mike taylor
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
Sadly they left, telling no one goodbye.
Pressed rat wore red jodhpurs, warthog a striped tie.
Between them, they carried a three-legged sack,
Went straight round the corner and never came back.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
The bad captain madman had told them to stop
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
The bad captain madman had ordered their fate.
He laughed and stomped off with a nautical gate.
The gate turned into a deroga tree
And his pegleg got woodworm and broke into three.
Pressed rat and warthog have closed down their shop.
They didnt want to; twas all they had got.
Selling atonal apples, amplified heat,
And pressed rats collection of dog legs and feet.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To link
Necessary to link
All weather connectivity
To link telling truth
Always is a must
Only by telling truth
Always the tongue get
True taste.
Camel may enter
In to the hole of
The needle
Unless one tell truth
It is not possible
To escape from this
Worldly bond.
Be srtaight
Be steady
Be firm
Be truthful
All weather connectivity
Is open with you
And link open.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In an individualistic culture, the narcissist is God's gift to the world. In a collectivist society, the narcissist is God's gift to the collective.
quote by Christopher Lasch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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