Tearing Of The Cloth
Stuffed full of dense clouds,
My head is heavy with non-emotion.
Such is the present weather;
And I cannot keep thoughts of Kafka away.
(He tried to burn all his work,
But ((good for us)) it was saved.)
Men of the cloth have been deemed
Tarantulas. They slowly abrogate
Mind and sense. I rather respect dedication,
Except for nazi-like ideas, creepy communism or capitalistic cronyism.
De-evolution in society and politics
Is running rampant beginning
With the Industrial Age.
There's the rub: to 'improve' living
We have to sacrifice the planet.
Forever.
Waking up to a new day,
The azure morning following
A night abuzz with thunderstorms,
I tear away the cloth before my eyes,
And desire someone to begin telling the truth.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Related quotes
1. One
I am trying to find my poetic rhythm.
Pen my flow of thoughts.
Words running through my mind,
Ideas running through my mind.
Incoherent, Scattered and disjointed
I am trying to make words and ideas one
Create a world of words, in this world of chaos
Words running from one end
Ideas running from one end
On a path of collision
Ideas and words unite, one
One, the beginning
One, the universal beginning
One, the number of the gods
One, my first poem
poem by Anand Dixit
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Morning thoughts
Morning thoughts
~
A sun rises over roof tops
Greeting the cold morning air
A wind blows heavy, swaying trees
The branches stripped bare by winter
The world is slowly waking
And the picture beyond my window
Emerges to life once more
I lay motionless in silence
Nursing warm coffee in my hands
Early thoughts begin to stir
My pen yet to be put to paper
I think back to dreams
The night passed what they brought
I think to the day ahead
What will it bring
Thoughts of love and romance
What could I write of them
I watch a world waking
A sun rising over rooftops
And I listen to my thoughts
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Waking
WAKING
There are so many dreams no one ever realizes
We wake and try to understand where we are
What we have done in all the years seems folly
Nothing can justify this morning or the day to come
We have forgotten who we are and where we have been
The prayer that helps us and connects us back to God
Revives
We begin to live or try to begin to live
Our names are not known and our work uncelebrated
Our songs are not sung and our labors not blessed
We look out and up at the sky and feel light
We do not know how or why or in what way
But we understand that God has given mornings to begin again
We will take the first step and word and taste and sound
And all we feel and be will begin to revive
We will connect ourselves again with where we are
We will begin to work
And as the day slowly comes back to us we will come back to ourselves
Every day is a new beginning and a world G-d will make
We too are that world and that beginning
In all the many days of blessings and the years of this life
God has enabled us to begin again
This time now too is now different
And these words say we are here now for this morning
So long as this morning is in us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Morning blue sky
Morning blue sky
~
Looking upon a pale blue sky
A plane cuts across my sight
That sharp white line climbs
Into a journey to begin the day
Off into a wandering fantasy
A stirring of birds fill the view
Like a thousand thoughts
All the world slowly waking
Still not a cloud to be seen
Last nights sleep rubbed from eyes
While watching the plane disappear
The fading white trail ebbs away
A journey somewhere beginning
Or perhaps another’s ending
The fantasy of a journey
Looking into a morning blue sky
Stirs the waking mind
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Peter's Report
Running all the way,
bent double in breathless pain
we peer and see
the gaping grave
open to the rising sun.
Slowly we enter, our eyes sun-blind,
when we see the empty bench,
the bloody cloth cast within.
I try to imagine
how light must have pierced the cloth,
the sudden shudder
of His broken body,
His sharp breath exploding
like a swimmer breaking the surface,
and I notice John’s eyes
outshining the sun,
and my own face
lighting even death's
darkest place!
poem by Steven Federle
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Serene
A sea of cloth on an early morning
A wooden boat afloat
The cloth of blue and gray clouds
Still touching
Hands and Lips
A man wearing a straw hat
A woman on green skirt watching
Him sail back,
A child cradled on her arms
Serene in sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thoughts and ideas - (Talking through my hat)
Break and husk
thoughts and ideas that,
without reason,
I smashing them like nuts
into my head – mortar with pig iron pestle.
Lay and hatch
thoughts and ideas,
and younglings,
instead of fly,
I keep them under latch
in my head – cage of neurons,
dendrites and axons.
Knead and raise
thoughts and ideas
but let me tempted,
and without reason,
instead of bake them, I play
“of thieves and bobbies”
with bullets of dough
shot from my head – automatic gun.
Pull kernels out of
thoughts and ideas
but I put not them to spring
and hundredfold harvest to bring,
I chain them necklace
that my poor mind
who walks nomad
through my head – ballad
to put it neck
in a night with moon
and than to catch
in a fairies dance
and hungry of blue
to soar in the stars.
***
Thoughts and ideas
are shrieking through my mind
as lost migratory birds
in an autumn of rains.
Thoughts and ideas
- arrow-shaped cranes with wet wings -
fall all at once
in my head – moorland
of thistle and mud.
Bevies of ideas
and useless thoughts
surround my mind
how ravens give wheel
carrions to be
through my head - waste land
by boiling and winds.
Thoughts and ideas
go round
like a pack of wolves
with empty bellies
through my head – winter of frost,
winter of sleet
with my mind
thoroughly frozen
by fright and a biting wind.
Pick
bunches of thoughts and ideas
caressed by the sun of mind
in bacchanal vineyards
planted on encephalic hills.
I squish them
and expect to get wine
and get drunk
in my head – tavern where the smoke
knife just cut it
and air is sourbitter.
Fog of thoughts and ideas
rises from my mind
as darkness on swamps
in late autumn.
Nothing to see
not hear anything
all still is,
just the small brain
flickers in my head – gray curtain
between movement and inertia.
Slacked thoughts and ideas
are resting on benches of mind,
nothing pulling them
with hands and teeth,
I can’t them gather
at work to bring
to get something good
from my head – chaos
where it lacks a poleax
and a stump of elm.
poem by Viorel Petru Trifan
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Grateful To Serve
I’m grateful to be a child of God, adopted through my Savior’s Blood,
From The Precious Blood of Christ, afforded through God’s Sacrifice;
Once under direction of God’s foe, The Lord and Savior, I didn’t know,
But, no longer living as God’s enemy, I’m now a child of God eternally.
My previous, dark and sinful life, was changed by the Power of Christ,
Through the Authority of His Throne, I was saved to be one of His own,
Raised up, out of the dark of night, to be filled with His Truth and Light,
As God’s witness, to others like me, who have not yet come to Calvary.
Now, today being a child of The Lord, guidance from God, is implored,
When quite frequently in my daily walk, with my Savior I pause and talk,
As daily I consider all of God’s ways, while I live out these earthly days,
This, to be a sound testimony for Him, Christ, who saved me out of sin.
God saved me, with His Plan in mind, as I leave those old ways behind,
His plan purposed in Heaven above, prepared for me with Christ’s Love;
His good work, prepared for all of us, who chose to follow Christ Jesus,
Using our lives from place to place, speaking to others about His Grace.
So my present life, to my God I give, and for my Savior I choose to live,
And the more in Truth, that I grow, the more God’s Spirit helps me know,
That I also, must choose to pay a price, to be for God, a living sacrifice,
Through His Grace and His Power, to be His witness every day and hour.
(Copyright ©05/2010)
Wrap Your Arms Around a New Beginning
When the time comes...
And an emotion invites a tear?
Let that 'thing' drop.
Don't stop it!
If it should bring a family,
Ready to pour more upon your heart,
With buckets...
Don't fight it,
Let go.
Knowing a cleansing is about to start!
There is no need to pretend,
Something painful that hurts...
Is better to hold inside,
To show you are brave!
Don't drive yourself crazy.
Go with that flow!
Let go.
Let that madness end.
Remove the clouds,
Of a sorrow that is saved.
Let the sunshine in.
Throw away a self sacrifice you gave!
Just know...
You can pave your own way,
On a road to a joy deserved!
Wrap your arms around a new beginning...
And live a happiness that is craved!
Bestow yourself with loving days!
Let go...
And let them begin!
Make a choice to smile and grin.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When You Exhort On A Certain Reality
it is this early morning
when you begin to recall what you
want to say last night
it was something horrible so you
decided after all
to keep it within yourself as
another secret
but then like a smoke from the chimney
some things simply escape
from their form and shape and show
themselves to the open skies
this very early morning you write
what you refuse to say
and then things reshape themselves in automation
like clouds and then they drift away
floating and there
you let them go
you let them be themselves
and here you are unattached
like a button removed from its cloth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Emotion
Look up
Look down
I've seen it all before
I need emotion
Look left
Look right
I've tried it all before
I need emotion
Say nothing
It's over
I sold my soul
Forever
She's tempting
Sex tension
It could be the wrong move
One question
One answer
I don't need
Exposure
I don't know
The slogan
New fashion kills me
Fashion
Tear it up
It don't mean a thing so
Fashion
Tear it up good
Touch me
Picture this
It don't mean a thing so
Touch me
Life is cruel
How did this ever get serious?
One night
One touch
I've used them all before
I need emotion
One lie
Too much
I've heard it all before
I need emotion
I'll show you
Religion
Some people
Disgust me
Listen to
Opinion
I'm in a glass house
'i've been sick'
She whispers
Abandon
Nostalgia
Remember
My picture
I only work here
I need emotion
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thunderstorms
My mind has thunderstorms,
That brood for heavy hours:
Until they rain me words,
My thoughts are drooping flowers
And sulking, silent birds.
Yet come, dark thunderstorms,
And brood your heavy hours;
For when you rain me words,
My thoughts are dancing flowers
And joyful singing birds.
poem by William Henry Davies
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The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
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Boris The Spider
Look, hes crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now hes up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Now hes dropped on to the floor
Heading for the bedroom door
Maybe hes as scared as me
Wheres he gone now, I cant see
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesnt seem to move at all
Perhaps hes dead, Ill just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Hes come to a sticky end
Dont think he will ever mend
Never more will he crawl round
Hes embedded in the ground
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Cloth
From fiber, to spinning wheel
From thread, to weaving mill
From textile, to sewing machine
Cloth is continuous ceremony
Whether knitting, whether embroider
Whether patchwork, whether bead work
The beautiful batik, the intricate songket
Cloth is concentration lesson
The strata symbol, the politeness norm
The body art, the cover part
Wedding dress, black tie suit
Cloth is human civilization
From skin, to fabric
From corset, to mini skirt
From blue jeans, to legging
Cloth is history record
Classic style, replied fashion
Color play, motif trend
Mismatch mode, big bang accessories
Cloth is social adaptation
Conservative nerd, ethnic vintage
Religion veil, punk rebel
Costume play, Gothic Lolita
Cloth is identity crisis
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Thoughts of desire
Thoughts of desire
~
A burning passion rises
consumes the mind at will
thoughts become provocative
seducing the subconscious
ideas come into place
stirring, hard to shake
passions flame burns hot
with the secrets we keep
the desires we mask
continue to rise inside
a thought grows into a dream
how sweet the night
passes into morning
dare we ever live them
or should they remain
kept inside the mind
as thoughts of desire
poem by Matthew Holloway
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All dreams not come true###(in 500)
All dreams may not come true
All credits due may not accrue
But with true reflection in mind
Ideas newer and newer may emerge and find
though may not be the nature too so kind
Dreaming in day time is not at all good
Good thoughts and efforts work as food
Earnest efforts to come out of wood
Failure may stun and you loose the hope
Still not difficult to walk on tight rope
It is not bad to dream for high sky
Speak always truth and do not lie
You may not have wings to fly
Still nothing wrong to work and try
No need to think or needlessly cry
You must have third sense to rise
All acts should be sensible and wise
Rise and fall is part of the game
Goal and ideas you must frame
No use trying luck or fate to blame
What ever you do must be with resolve?
Take full blame and never try to absolve
Put in best efforts to come out and solve
Full dedication and make everybody to involve
Try to mix with all as soluble dissolve
Despite put in best efforts it may not materialize
Failure may be sure but we may not visualize
All draw backs reasons before us but can’t analyze
Complete system may run into trouble and paralyze
Still strive very hard to see the reason and synchronize
Complete days routine and reflections of day’s thoughts
In night, thoughts clash and hard won battles are fought
Freedom and joy sincerely thought and brought
Stealing in day time but not easily caught
Simply night dreaming when lying in the cot
Continue to seek solution in dream,
Energy not focused but travel in beam
Try very hard and work as team,
Good efforts in direction but not as power game
Not letting any opportunity with excuses lame
So I find easy way to seek refuge in night
Lie low and have good say without light
more and more attention I try to pay
Always hope to find way in form of ray
washing shores with water at feet of bay.
Life doesn’t end with setting of day
Sun may rise again with bright ray
Your hopes may be high and tall
Vast horizon may lie open for all
Try for success without any fall
Come what may be the slogan
Life and opportunities may begun
Nothing to loose with worth attempt
Sometimes you may gain with action prompt
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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At Their Best
Today the world’s appalling indeed, with many men in spiritual need,
Not discerning of life here at all, spiritually blinded due to man’s fall,
His sinful fall from God’s Grace; where they communed face to face.
Fellowship with God of Eternity, was marred by Satan’s dark iniquity.
Evolution has replaced God’s Truth, so man fears no Divine reproof,
Sinking deeper into dark ideology; creating for man skewed theology.
Men in pulpits have denied Creation, skewing God’s Holy Revelation,
Men by way of evolution’s progress, are glorified animals at their best.
Many of these men darkly depraved, are affecting people truly saved,
People who are young in their Faith, not leaning fully on God’s Grace.
Man’s evil nature, although denied, from God’s eyes they cannot hide,
And He’ll give them over to their lust, and then return them to the dust.
Even though evil is rampant friend, God’s Holiness prevails in the end,
All man’s wickedness will not stand, at the coming of The Son of Man,
For only righteousness shall prevail, as sin is destroyed on every scale.
And The Lord will not lose His own, saved by The Lamb on the Throne.
All true believers snared by sin, in Christ’s Power are delivered by Him,
Sin will be destroyed forever friend, and wicked men will see their end.
Not only has God forgiven His own, but Christ will see us safely home,
Where they shall see more than rest; living sinless forever at their best.
(Copyright ©10/2006)
Anticipation
I sleep in the morn.
I do not wish to rise.
I hear the rain
and I know the skies
are crying big raindrops
and the clouds are gray.
The approaching hours
will begin my day.
Oh how I need to see the sun
come out from the clouds
to burn my skin
and heat up this frame of mind I'm in.
I can't stay put in this tiresome bed.
Too many thoughts will destroy my head.
All I need is one word from you,
then the rain and clouds could not get through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Insanity (2)
sanity
slowly escaping me,
i'm trapped in my head,
i try to escape my mind
running thoughts in circles.
insanity is creeping upon me,
doubt running wild.
wind whispers something
i try to listen,
but the difficulty is
stabbing at my mind as
i slowly lose it.
my consciousness fading away,
my mind lost in time,
everything's ending,
slowly ending,
all is one and one is all,
never again to be found.
poem by Randy Briggs
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