I Am Clueless For Whom I Write!
In my knowledge I have no friends nor relatives
Nor those who welcome my works into their hearts;
But who knows such exist beyond my skies and seas
With their silent lips and lazy fingers?
Really I am clueless for whom I pen my works
But to unburden my heart that weighs me down
And for the dizzy kick that keeps me afloat
May there be a mirror-soul of me
That awaits in the dim distance far far beyond
For my songs to alight on its willing shoulders!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Related quotes
She Works Hard For The Money
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything
Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there
It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times
She'll never sell out
she never will
not for a dollar bill
she works hard
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
song performed by by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Problem
Some one has put me in problem
It was better if I was not born
Life is full all that of burden
Sleeping, eating and poetry - writing
It does not mean, I do not have other works
As all the works are seemed to me nothing
The love of my wife and the love of mine for my child
Are all routine works, worthless and monotonous
Lead me nowhere, the name -fame- money is
The game too tiresome, today's ambition is tomorrow's
Achievements but when I get them, I put them in sacks
As they become valueless and I kick them out
I am fed up with this game , too
In one thing where I have no problem is that
‘Where you have kept my heart ‘
But how to keep safe
The heart you gave
Certainly, to me is a big problem.
So I say,
It was better if I was not born
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Voodooded Lips
VOODOODED LIPS
esspeecee …18.06.09.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll reflect you lips’ eloquence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll blush-in by your lips’ glittrence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll unfold your lips’ innocence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll savor to the lees your lips’ elegance.
In the mirror of silence
I get psychic catharsis
In our lip lock reminiscences.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll siphon in your lips’ effulgence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll grope your lips
In abyssal absence.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will coalesce
In your lips’ effervescence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll be vortexed by
Lips’ psychedelic resonance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll passionately hug
With sensuous confluence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll smear lips by
Your lips’ fragrance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll tie-up our lips
In Monalisian resemblance.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll fresco my lips
From your lips’ brilliance.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will stain
By your lips’ every essence.
I’m voodooded by:
In the mirror of silence,
Your lips’ excellence,
And deluxe luminance.
Copyright reserved by the Author
.
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
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Lazy Man's Song
I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;
I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it.
My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it.
My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them.
I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink;
So it's just the same as if my cellar were empty.
I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play;
So it's just the same as if it had no strings.
My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house;
I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind.
My friends and relatives write me long letters;
I should like to read them, but they're such a bother
to open.
I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh1
Passed his whole life in absolute idleness.
But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals,
So even he was not so lazy as I
Moments of Vision
That mirror
Which makes of men a transparency,
Who holds that mirror
And bids us such a breast-bare spectacle see
Of you and me?
That mirror
Whose magic penetrates like a dart,
Who lifts that mirror
And throws our mind back on us, and our heart,
until we start?
That mirror
Works well in these night hours of ache;
Why in that mirror
Are tincts we never see ourselves once take
When the world is awake?
That mirror
Can test each mortal when unaware;
Yea, that strange mirror
May catch his last thoughts, whole life foul or fair,
Glassing it -- where?
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Fictional
everything i write comes back to me
like they are real
in flesh and blood and friends write
how come
how is it that we are there in your poems
when they are supposedly
some works of a writer
imaginary and fictional
i have no answer
i write about love and broken hearts
and another friend
emails if i am alright
is there anything she can do to help?
but i say again
this is not me this has nothing to do with me
this is fiction
and she does not believe me
she says,
there you are trying to lie again
when blood runs surging like some pulse
of a dying man wanting to be alive
in your poetry,
i have no answer
the poems are works of fiction
it is not me it is about him and her and them
she shrugs off her shoulders
and reads again about the old church where
she once knelt and prayed
there was this girl who fell in love
and whose heart was
beautifully torn to pieces
she says she is her
the poem is true
and there was this boy
who was with her praying
who, when he became a man
broke her heart
she says it is you it is you
the poem is true,
the poems are true
who will ever believe me now?
i have always lied all along
count it from the first poem
when i said about
it and i said it was
it is
all about nothing and
it will always be about nothing
but fiction, nothing personal, but it can be also painful and lingering.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not Works
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway;
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish everything in man,
But the grace that never can.
poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 63: Not Of Works
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway;
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish everything in man,
But the grace that never can.
poem by William Cowper
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Fantasies Of A Mirror Part-1
The mirror gasped as she stood in front of it with her tresses flowing longingly
The mirror looked in her dark brown eyes
The mirror admired her almost perfect lips
The mirror gazed longingly at her perfect hips
The mirror took her in its arms
The mirror embraced her reflection in itself
The mirror ran its fingers through her soft hair
The mirror kissed her lips a thousand times
The mirror bit her slender neck
The mirror whispered a thousand nothings in her ears
The mirror …..The mirror ……The mirror
The mirror left its love bites all over her soft warm body
poem by Leonard Rebello
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O...what...?
women are
works...
with over the world...
very heary hard...
men also works...
but womens works many...
in house...
in office....
in others...
all wys womens
works...
over then men...
with vey hard works...
but...
money earn
men will bee high
women will bee low...
what is this...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Heavy Heart
Heavy heart think of yesterday
And you're torn apart
Thinking of the ways it was easier to smile
More than today love grew wild
Heavy heart like a perfect stranger
You make it hard
Taking all the blame - still you hear the sound
Calling your name - troubles coming down
Too heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
It's just like you to take it all so far
Then you feel abused and wonder who you are
Everything you've done - anything you start
Can turn and run
Ain't it true - it's only just a stage
Gotta give it room - start an empty page
Get back in the game - but do it your way
You don't have to play so heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
When your heart is strong it leads you on
But when it breaks you
It devastates you for so long
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
song performed by by Heart from Passion Works
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hate Works But Love Does Not
I have seen the love
In the eyes around me
Caring and hugging my feelings
As the root of the tress
I know the warmness of the arms
The soft touch of the palms
But love is lazy and lethargic
Seldom it can be found energetic
The promptness it does lack
It never works back to back
But the hate works very ferociously
With red eyes it acts very quickly
A full pack of energy
Blitzkrieg and scorching
Swashbuckling and blistering
It cuts very deeply and burns very badly
It works havoc but love does not.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Darrell is really good in the studio. I mean, he has a real working knowledge of how the process works, and what sounds good coming back over tape, and how the stuff works together.
Life is pretty simple You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.
quote by Thomas Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is pretty simple: You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.
quote by Leonardo da Vinci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Plea To The All Occupy Protesters Of The World
Changes shall be made with heart's songs of love and care don't let violence be attached to Occupy Protesters. If violence win, the peace is lost. All hearts '99' are with you, please keep it up!
There is a roof over their heads
Because her dear man works
They're having roof sold by the bank
The husband works as ever, very hard.
She cannot help but sit and wait
She's also lost her job
What can she do, to what gods a prayer shall say
For their house not to become ashtray.
How can she ask to her own child?
'-Study hard please, study hard
You'll have a happy better life! '
child says-'please: can see the dear dad, don't lie! '
poem by Elena Sandu
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Ballad Of Cleo & Joe
Every morning the clock kicks off the beat.
Little Joe struggles just to get up on his feet.
Waits in his platforms for the right train to come.
Sipping his coffee another day has begun
Little Joe got work for minimum wage
Tries to get through another dead beat day
At five a clock he comes home to change
takes him many hours just to rearrange
And he works his body just to be somebody
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream
And he works his body and he feels somebody
and the working boy becomes a dancing queen
And he works his body just to be somebody.
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream.
And he works his body just to feel somebody
and the working boy becomes a dancing queen.
Every night the DJ kicks off the beat.
Little Cleo's jumping just to get up on her feet.
Waits in her platforms for the right song to come.
Sipping her cocktail another night has begun.
And he works his body just to be somebody.
There's a woman in the mirror looking like a dream.
And he works his body and he feels somebody
and the working boy became a dancing queen.
Every morning the clock kicks off the beat
Little Joe struggles just to get up on his feet.
Waits in his platforms for the right train to come...
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Sisters Of Avalon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The idea of copyright did not exist in ancient times, when authors frequently copied other authors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part.
quote by Richard Stallman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoiled
Sometimes,
I know You may find me acting...
As if You do not exist.
That's when my free will works overtime.
And my choice to decide I can not push aside.
You did this to me to see what I would do.
To see if I would totally forget my relationship,
With You.
How can I do this when You bombard me with gifts?
I am completely spoiled and this I am sure You can not miss!
Sometimes,
I know You may find me acting...
As if You do not exist.
That's when my free will works overtime.
And my choice to decide I can not push aside.
But Father?
You are everything I AM.
And I have yet to be all there is You wish for me to be.
So 'if' You see me acting as 'if' You do not exist...
Know that I do the best I can to want to impress You!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If faith produce no works, I see That faith is not a living tree. Thus faith and works together grow, No separate life they never can know. They're soul and body, hand and heart, What God hath joined, let no man part.
quote by Hannah More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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