Unending War
Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive
trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball
of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming
rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat
figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Nightmare in Oak Street
The town clock strikes twelve
In dim bedroom sleepy mind does delve
A haunting face beckoning, scars sinned
Her hair blowing in the wind
Dark inside the enchanting mirror deep
Past life breaks the glass blood begins to seep
Fire in green eyes forked tongue grips my lips
Feet begin to melt, courage leaves and dips
The siren drifts around my head, arms, and mind
Screams and screams for sanity to find
Drained face, spine chilled bloodless white
Fear grips throat in silent night
A blinding glint from flashing steel
Ferocious howls am I her sexual meal
I push away hands go thru bones- o m g
From the mirror more dancing clones
Rivers of sweat, moaning, teeth clatter
Bones close in as they eyeless chatter
Claws push hard into frozen cheeks
Tongue rough licks like the dreaded geeks
I awake into the face of my hound and ‘shout
“Who let the dog out, who let the dog out “
Thank god mans best friend really does care
He knew I was only having an awful nightmare”
poem by Ken e Hall
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0204 Every Dog Will Have His Night
The prick of tears around the eye when reading poetry
is reassuring - that despite what happened
this morning, yesterday, in childhood,
in your last life, whatever -
you're still human.
Philip Levine - whose poems prick my eyes
so often that I'd like to think him
to be the heart of America
or ought to be,
reckons that man is the only animal
that has visionary power.
But I wonder. Can't do more than that; but wonder nevertheless:
my dog,
who lays him down on the hearth at night
with a sigh that shakes his whole body,
as if he's not planning to do anything between sleep and wake,
twitches his hind legs in dream;
and I, unimaginatively, assume he's chasing rabbits -
too intense a twitching for just some playful thrown ball:
does he catch them, or like in my dreams,
get further and further away, the harder he tries?
But psychologists of the human mind
reckon that dreams are the sewage farms
of emotion: cleansing the mind of fears
(and, it seems, for an astonishingly high percentage of Britons,
having a very friendly afternoon tea with the Queen...) .
Which suggests that those chases of failure or perhaps ideal success
that my dog dreams, cleanse emotions too
- and who can doubt, seeing his dog hang his head in shame,
with that strange straightness of the neck like human spine
which can touch his master's heart like nothing else,
who can doubt that dogs have emotions? -
imply that dogs could have ideals
(and am I God, or just
the leader of his pack - how do I, then, measure up?) .
And if they have emotions, and ideals, then
should we not enquire of them more closely
what is dreamt of in their philosophy?
My dog, haunched here beside me,
looks up at me with liquid brown eyes
brimming with faith, hope, and love;
trusting that I'll make the right decision about all this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A rose with a prickle
To pursue the ball, to kick the ball,
And to snatch the ball, is a thrill.
Of course, to lose it, to be snatched off
And to fail to goal, puts you in peril.
Deny you not the pleasure, fearing the failure.
A peril after a thrill, if at all, is good.
17.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Country Sweat
Sweat!
Sweat!
Sweat!
Born for trouble, poised for action
Ready to spring at a moment's notice
Nerves like a trigger, waiting to be pulled
Covered with sweat, it ain't nice
Sweat!
Help me please I'm burning up
I got this fire in my heart
Won't let me sleep, can't concentrate
Even when it's cold I'm dripping sweat
It ain't nice
Sweat!
Rivers running down my back
Makes me slippery, like a fish
If I don't stop, I might drown
Falling down, down, down, down, not dead yet
covered with
Sweat
CHORUS
The cool boys bit the dust
They couldn't take the pressure
The cool girls got knocked up
They only wanted to have fun
(Where did they go?)
They fell in low and suffered
(Where did they go?)
They picked up guns and hammers
(Where did they go?)
Without friction there's no heat
WIthout heat there's no fire
Without fire there's no desire
You're making me hot, hot, hot, hot!
Sweat! Sweat!
Take my baby, Saturday night
It's hundred and ten, it's alright
Close the door to my little room
Starting to sweat, fun starts soon
Sweat!
Principal caught me after school
Gave me hell, called me a fool
Pointed his finger, at my face
Started to sweat all over the place
Flowed like rivers, onto the floor
I can take it, give me some more
Sweat!
War breaks out throughout the land
Dodging bullets in the sand
Enemy's getting much to close
Sun beats down on the back of my neck
Fingers twitchin', covered with sweat
Covered with sweat
CHORUS
Sweat!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire By Night, Smoke By Day
It's fire by night and smoke by day
As we lay in our beds just thinking away
We wake in the morning to do what they say
It's fire by night and it's smoke by day
The sun starts to rise and the birds start to sing
We worry about what to do, what to wear and what to bring
We make a to-do list filled with everything
Just like the summer, the winter, the fall and the spring
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
Our day carries on as we're stuck to the clock
A slave to the ways of the tic and the toc
We carry a key but there isn't a lock
Trying to discover what is already lost
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
Our thoughts start to wander as night settles in
Engaged in a fight we're not ready to win
As we wait for a new tomorrow to begin
The fire starts burning all over again
Fire by night, smoke by day
There's nothing left to blow it away
We wait for the water to wash it away
It's fire by night, smoke by day
poem by Navillus Tam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweat
Sweat!
Sweat!
Sweat!
Born for trouble, poised for action
Ready to spring at a moments notice
Nerves like a trigger, waiting to be pulled
Covered with sweat, it aint nice
Sweat!
Help me please Im burning up
I got this fire in my heart
Wont let me sleep, cant concentrate
Even when its cold Im dripping sweat
It aint nice
Sweat!
Rivers running down my back
Makes me slippery, like a fish
If I dont stop, I might drown
Falling down, down, down, down, not dead yet
Covered with
Sweat
Chorus
The cool boys bit the dust
They couldnt take the pressure
The cool girls got knocked up
They only wanted to have fun
(where did they go? )
They fell in low and suffered
(where did they go? )
They picked up guns and hammers
(where did they go? )
Without friction theres no heat
Without heat theres no fire
Without fire theres no desire
Youre making me hot, hot, hot, hot!
Sweat! sweat!
Take my baby, saturday night
Its hundred and ten, its alright
Close the door to my little room
Starting to sweat, fun starts soon
Sweat!
Principal caught me after school
Gave me hell, called me a fool
Pointed his finger, at my face
Started to sweat all over the place
Flowed like rivers, onto the floor
I can take it, give me some more
Sweat!
War breaks out throughout the land
Dodging bullets in the sand
Enemys getting much to close
Sun beats down on the back of my neck
Fingers twitchin, covered with sweat
Covered with sweat
Chorus
Sweat!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking By Faith...
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
As I Leap Of Faith Thru Life
I’m Trying To Follow Your Footsteps
Holy Savior, Jesus Christ
We Must Walk Thru Fire, By Faith
And Close The Fear Of Mortal Sight
We Must Journey Bravely
… In Love’s Flight Light
Walking By Faith, I See You
Thru Christ’s Sacred Intercessions
I Am Looking Forward To
All My Scenes Of Sins, Remissions
I Need A View, Not Blocked By Strife
Nor Torrents Of Rain, In Deep Night
Let Me Simply Wipe Them Away
With All Your Forecast Might
I’ll Perceive The Way
By Knowing Whose Will
I’m Walking By Faith
Thru Valleys To Hills
Coming To Where
The Savior Stood
Leading Me To
A Holy Neighborhood
His Precious Tracks
Traced In Blood
Saved Me From Being
Buried In Mud
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
Let Me Keep Eyes On The Prize
And Keep Me In Your Vision
Under All Cloudy Skies
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
Even If I Limp, Or Lag Behind
I’ll Never Stray From Faith In You
I’ll Not Go Spiritually Blind
As Long As I Don’t Lose Sight Of You
I’ll See All This Come To Pass Too …
Written & ©: 3/13/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Fierce Words Of Feeling- The Anger
The fierce words of feeling- the anger
They are the poem-
The hurt which cries and screams and demands
Its own expression-
The fierce words of feeling
Which rage on against the night and the darkness and the beauty and the pain and all the loss and all the love
And demand some other kind of freedom beyond what any human being has ever known
Beyond and yet more beyond -
The fierce words of feeling
That come out of the deepest darkest most primitive part of ourselves
But connect with what we most really are
In saying,
‘No no no not again' to all this pain and dying and sadness
The fierce words of feeling- No.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Working Up A Sweat
Aw, When you touch there, honey
Makes my blood perspire
You got my body flaming
Like a California fire
Pulsing, pounding, pushing
No longer in control
Heatwave in my brain
Smolder in my soul
You got me workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
I've been playing all night long
Time I was gettin' home
But I've got no place to get
Spontaneous combustion
Scientific fact
But your approach to friction
An unnatural act
Bells I hear ain't fire drills
I hope you understand
It's a bona fide five alarmer
Melting in my hand
You got me workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
I've been playing all night long
Time I was gettin' home
But I've got no place to get
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Yeah, yeah
I've been playing all night long
'Bout time I was gettin' home
But I've, ooh
Dante's famed inferno
Was a trip to hell and back
But you and a bottle in a cheap hotel
Screams pyromaniac
Bandages came off today
Really feeling sick
The hardest part's explainin'
All those blisters on my - nose!
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
I've been playing all night long
Time I was gettin' home
But I've got no place to get
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
I've been playing all night long
'Bout time I was gettin' home
But I've, ooh
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
Workin' up a sweat
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Richie Rich A Philistine
self absorbed profit egotistical
indifferent to artistic intellectual,
achievement values numerical
narcissism waxed sentimental;
emotions feelings romantic nostalgic
deep refined equals slushy self indulgent,
excess income exult over expenditure
worth usefulness of somebody squeezed;
out in exultant sweat shop exploitation
abuse misuse mistreatment maltreatment,
human ground down in machine gears
sweat blood oils profit margin beneficial;
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We Damn The Night
Blood on my pillow
Blood on my skin
Am I going mad
Or was this a dream?
There in the depth
The hollow souls wait
Voices surround me
Tempting my fate
Then out of nowhere
Figures in white
Guarding my soul in the fight
Refrn:
We are strong we're alive
We have faith in his might
We believe in the everlasting light
Anytime, anywhere we will always be there
We will fight for what's just and what's right
We damn the night
Out in the blackness
Shivering cold
Doubt takes on shape
Fear the unknown
Eyes of the fallen
Piercing their glance
Whispers of doom
Left without chance
Then out of nowhere
Figures in white
Shield my soul in the fight
Refrn
We damn the night .
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winter Wolves Are Coming
The Winter Wolves are coming
They are drawing ever near
The Winter Wolves are coming
They smell our blood, our fear
The Winter Wolves are coming
In packs of hundreds and more
The Winter Wolves are coming
They are knocking at our door
The Winter Wolves are coming
With teeth as sharp as knives
The Winter Wolves are coming
They mean to take our lives
The Winter wolves are coming
The smell our blood, our fear
The Winter Wolves are coming
The Cold of Death is here.
poem by Tim Vallie
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(V – 1990) War & Peace
War has stabbed the heart of peace
And peace lies bleeding now –
A peace which was healing slow
The wounds it had suffered hard,
A peace which was recovering
From the mind blowing blows
Of the decades past!
Now the precious blood of that peace is draining
And each dropp of dripping blood
Is singing the songs of savagery
To the frightened ears of civilizations!
Man mastered bombs but now bombs master man!
Man busy growing the world outside
How poor he forgot to grow his inside!
And now when he stands a helpless child
Before the giant of things he grew
Reason comes again and asks
Was this the progress you built through the years
And man has no answer
He just drops into wounds
Wounds inflicted by bullets of arrogance
Of selfishness, hatred, fear and greed!
Oh, these bombs that preach ‘might is right’
Oh, these merciless bloodthirsty bullets –
What answers are they? What justice makes they?
What battle is real than a battle for peace?
What victory, true, when won at the cost of peace? !
Peace was long destroyed on the minds of men
So no peace now remains outside!
Rising from narrow rooms of thought
Man armed with the mortal arms of passion
Smashes the skulls of his brethren
And when upon the fractured bones
And the boiled flesh, cries of anguish fall
And when the hands and limbs of innocents
Lie eaten and bitten by vultures of violence
Their hearts cracking into a fury of pain
And when thick clouds of smoke
Of the smoke of life, rises from the graveyards of war
A tear comes into the eyes of man and time asks:
Hasn’t History taught you anything still?
And man stands dumb!
With all his will and wisdom paralyzed
He searches for peace, for the solace of peace
But peace lies writhing there!
He knows he wants it dearly
The company of peace,
Wounded though he be!
But peace is dying there;
But peace is not dead!
His life lies in our hands
The wounds are many
But many more can be spared!
The wounds are sore
But they can be medicined still!
War is death
But war can be killed!
Fever Rising
What is the thing of poverty,
of frozen pain,
fury under the snow,
between fire and rain?
You come on the surface
to breathe, douse with petrol
and show off a flame. A slum of emotions
burns with rage.
The masses in the garden
play with a fountain. The screams
bloom into a scam. A dead blue peace,
except the tears obscene.
I am in fear. The pillow was used
to choke the enemy.The ripples were
spreading. Wheels were broken. A child
in a womb cries.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem During War (Cavatina) (In Answer To Archibald Macleish)
Not the loss of men, machines or a country
to destiny,
or the farewell of you to whom I long,
or to be free
from the ravages of a unwanted war,
always holds me
like the beauty of the last summer spent;
the deep feelings for you do not relent
as I long for a new dawn without pain
or any fear
while the future now looks very grim
and guns I hear
sending messages of their deadly flame,
nothing is clear
and although we do constantly just win,
the shattering of my soul did begin.
While bullets, rockets and shells do whistle past
your face, our love,
is out of my mind, as like a machine
I act above
the mere decency of being human,
while I do move
from one sheltering onto the next one,
all other thoughts but survival are gone
but still so intense you remain with me,
that I do dream
of your countenance, I see your face;
in clouds like steam
the wounded do for God, each other or
their mothers scream
with the smell of burnt flesh everywhere,
the pain of dying is constantly here.
[Reference: 'Two Poems from the War' by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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London
It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Fighting Days
The sun is blocked out by a heavy smoke haze
Twelve miles south of here a huge bushfire blaze
It's way through the brown paddocks and stands of trees
fanned on by a warm and a freshening breeze,
Where-ever there's smoke there is fire to be found
And smoke travels by air for miles and miles around
The C F A the Country fire fighters are busy today
The destructive fire front they fight to keep it at bay,
Such courageous people one can't help but them admire
They risk their own lives to save homes from the fire
They display their courage in the gap of fear
Great stories of their bravery we so often hear
Through dry scrublands and paddocks the huge fire front blaze
We are in the Season of fire fighting days.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To you, for you
I am human. I am skin all over hiding
The stark reality of bones and veins
I keep my blood as rivers inside me
My mind as the air and the sea
I am human. I am a continent. I am
An island hiding this passion and desire
Inside my territory. If by chance you come
And land on my shores, I am the port
The path, I am this garden, I am this grass
I am this cloud, I am the sun and the moon,
I am human. I am all the changes that you see
I am earth, I am water, I am fire. Come!
Enjoy the amenities of my mortality.
I am human. Take everything in me.
It is all yours because You are my God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Price Golgotha?
seer eyes burn with
prophetic words read
vision words sweep
forth in sleep soul fed
dream spaces echo
divine fountain head
heart surges witnesses
flowing images bled
blood of all spilled human
suffering fills vast lake red
blood cries out from ground
to God spoken testament said
murder of Christ at Golgotha each
shed droplet screams at deathbed
judge this sacrifice this moment
against each soul resurrect all dead
judgement judgement screams
all blood spilt where murder lead
all sin all crime all evil is judged
against all guilty soul’s in dread
those born again in Christ have sin
washed clean with Christ are wed
their name is written in sacred book
of life angelic marked upon forehead
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Grey
LADY of Sorrow! What though laughing blue,
Thy sister, mock men’s anguish, and the sun
Glare like a wrathful judge on many a one
That longs for night his bitter shame to rue,
Yet dost thou grant thy mercy of mist and dew
And cloud and calm ere angry day be done,
Weaving over the vault the weary shun
Thy veil of peace, with pity trembling through.
When all light loves and all brave hues are flown,
When beaten hope falls from the reeling fight,
And life is lone upon her desolate way,
And noon is fierce, and no men see aright,
Then weary eyes turn unto thee, their own,
Lady of Grief, the soul’s madonna, Grey.
II
Yet not in sorrow only art thou fair,
For joy may know and love thee in the pall
Of spray that slumbers on the waterfall,
Or in low cottage-smoke in evening air
Or in brave stone carven in glory rare,
Or when the tender mists of Autumn fall
Dappling the mead with beauty, and the tall
Stark dreaming oaks thine ancient livery wear.
Yet none hath known thy loveliness aright
Save him who gazing in his lady’s eyes
Sees dim lists tossing with plumes of many a knight
And woods where elfin waters gleam and glance,
And all the vision and faith of old romance
And the great dream of youth that never dies.
poem by Archibald Thomas Strong
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