City Stench
walking...
I listen
grit
grinding
between
shoe
and
pavement-
dampness
brings
the smell
of this
decayed city
to life
it pulsates
it pulsates
throbbing through me
Sometimes
I think,
'I should
have been a
fuckin' farmer'
But this is
the stench
I know,
not that
of
animal feces
and
chemical
fertilizer
This cities
foul odor
breathes life
into my
calcified veins
at death,
don't bury
me in a field
of wild flowers
or
6 feet under
plush
manicured lawn...
a dumpster
littered with
the
debris of
the living
will do
fine
T. Labbe`
Related quotes
Wonderful Sorrow
Oh,
how wonderful
my
blackened
sorrow
It's
searing pain
breathes warmth,
softening once
calcified veins.
Like dry-ice,
burning away
at the
hardened numbness
of my being.
It's good
to feel.
Even with loss.
Never
forgotten,
is the cold
suffocating
rain.
Life choked
back in to
collapsed lungs.
I gasp deeply
and spew out the
poisonous bile
through tears
Oh,
how wonderful
my
blackened
sorrow
It's good
to feel.
Even with loss.
by
Tim Labbe`
Poet
Darkness,
behind the cloak.
Random words spewed
Subconscience thought,
so obscure their meaning
'Why would anyone want
to be a fuckin' poet? '
I ask.
Eerie blackness
within a wretched,
reckless soul
reveals the heart of men
but you,
eyes open, don't blink
'Why would anyone want
to be a fuckin' poet? '
I ask.
The day of light
when darkness passes
Brilliant stars
hide beyond the heavens.
But all you know is hell
'Why would anyone want
to be a fuckin' poet? '
I ask.
Be anything...,
a janitor,
a carpenter,
an accountant,
a fry cook.
Never become a poet.
Stay numb. It's easier.
Unless you want to feel.
Than be prepared for
internal turmoil.
Turmoil, most common
men could never bare.
'Why would anyone want
to be a fuckin' poet? '
I ask.
God knows, I'm not one.
They're all fuckin' sissy's.
Everyone knows that.
T. Labbe`
When leaves fall in autumn
When leaves fall in autumn, lying all over the place
with the smell of decline penetrating,
in colours of yellow, brown and gold
nature is caught in a circle
in which life and death is present,
the dead leaves becomes the fertilizer
for new life sprouting from seeds
when the earth again brings forth life
and continuously this cycle proceeds
until trees are full of flowers, later full of fruit.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Song (Untitled #12)
Should thy love die;
O bury it not under ice-blue eyes!
And lips that deny,
With a scornful surprise,
The life it once lived in thy breast when it wore no disguise.
Should thy love die;
O bury it where the sweet wild-flowers blow!
And breezes go by,
With no whisper of woe;
And strange feet cannot guess of the anguish that slumbers below.
Should thy love die;
O wander once more to the haunt of the bee!
Where the foliaged sky
Is most sacred to see,
And thy being first felt its wild birth like a wind-wakened tree.
Should thy love die;
O dissemble it! smile! let the rose hide the thorn!
While the lark sings on high,
And no thing looks forlorn,
Bury it, bury it, bury it where it was born.
poem by George Meredith
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I Haven't Given Up, Life
i haven't
given up,
life
even though u
made me,
my mother's
bastard,
your
bitch, life
i haven't
given up
you tore open
my skin,
exposing
moist meat,
raw nerves
and bare bones
i haven't
given up,
life
savoring the
dry milky-crust
of hunger
around
my mouth
i haven't
given up,
life
give it to me,
life.
Your obstacle's
have
shredded
weaker men
i haven't given up
I don't quit
maybe,
one day,
it will be you,
life,
that will
give up
realize
my resolve,
my stamina,
my struggle
and mostly…
my love of
the pain
Death
is the
only way
you will
defeat
me, life
But then again,
Death
is always
the
victor
by,
Tim Labbe`
Without Proximity
Humans think the whole earth
Should subjugate itself beneath their feet;
Even their religions cry out
That they are meant to dominate this world;
Animal life hides at their approach;
Even their smell is unusual,
Camouflaged by many substances
That they put upon the body;
Godlike, they annoint themselves
With the essence of flowers,
And animal secretions which waft into the air
From their body's censors-
And what other animal can kill or maim,
Without proximity?
poem by Patti Masterman
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Fake Flowers
ı do not like fake flowers
having no soul and odor
dry and like ice
they gaze with their icy..cold eyes
they tray to smell
but only in imitation
but have no smell or odor
ı n the natural flowers
you find the all the mixture and voices
of the colors and the odors
they smell
like a beloved..like a comrade..like a mother
and they flow into you
like a colorful fountain
one is man made
the other GOD made
one wavers and boasts ''ME..ME..MEE..
the other gives real friendship and love
and GOD..the one who looks at us
and protects us from above
Ali TURK KESKIN....translatı on Metin Ş AHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Sunset Thoughts (after reading a poet)
At sunset, sinking gold
Goaded by great will
Death, painful as birth
Cold wind freezing
The wings of life
And at sun rise
Pulsates
A dark beetle whirrs
The pain at birth
Resounding cradle
Stretches to the grave
The warmth of love,
Like consciousness
Trespasses time and space.
poem by Raveendran N.V.
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Under A Merciless Sun
Under a sun that burns merciless hot,
the wild wind and unrestrained weather
the farmer kneels humble before God
ploughs his fields, takes seed in both his hands
see the twirling wind from a distance,
then prays again sincerely to the Lord,
before he plants the seeds, ask for blessings
when his tractor pulls red dust from the field.
Big drops pour down for days without an end,
time and again the farmer thanks his God,
with a fresh smell coming from the wet earth
overnight all of the wild grass is green,
it’s dripping wet as far as he can see;
the farmer lives connected to God.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Farmer's Bride (Cavatina Sequence) (In Answer To Charlotte Mew)
There was a farmer's wife, who was afraid
every day,
was driven wild with unmentioned fear;
always away
she was hidden beyond some lock and key,
never was gay
but doves gathered at her window sill,
many birds fluttered near at her will.
Without much love she was driven to work,
once she did flee
with the farmer and his labourers searching;
she was happy
while she was hiding in the large cornfield,
was from fear free,
later sneaked into the nearest church,
while drunk from the bar her husband did lurch.
Like a small animal she was hiding,
the minister
prayed for her but then took her back home,
quite sinister
acted the farmer as he whipped her,
did register
her into a lunatic asylum
and of his actions that was the sum.
The magpie's feathers did lie in her room
and she was gone
as if she had suddenly taken flight,
had moved on,
one day to a much better loving world,
but all alone
until his sudden death the farmer was,
they found him deep in a field of green grass.
[Reference: 'The Farmer's Bride' by Charlotte Mew.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Girl Next Door
White girl living in the big city
In a big apartment house
She's living with her boyfriend now
She drives off every day for school and work
She washes dishes now
And watches tv on the pull out couch
But every day's the same x2
And every day's the same x5
White girl moved back to the suburbs
And she finally found a man
Who knows how to take care of her
She bought the perfect little house
And the lawn's well manicured
And she'd never missed a day of work
And every day's the same x7
White girl couldn't go on knowing
She was just here wasting her time
She drowned in the lake last night
They found her bloated body floating
But she still walks around
Performing all her daily chores
She still don't know what life's about
She still don't know what life's about
Cause every day's the same
And every day's the same x6
song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fine Line
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
Don't pretend you don't see
What's in front of your eyes
We're scraping the gutter
Or we're touching the skies
There's times when I feel
I'm in the eye of a storm
But there's times when I feel
That we could fly up to the moon
To the moon
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
I know you agree that
We should try to work it out
It's too good to throw away
I never had a doubt
We're so good together
And there's nothing to prove
Seems we gotta learn
To take the rough times with the smooth
With the smooth
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
song performed by by Will Young from From Now On
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Or Death?
Every day we live, we always face death
We get closer to it, every time we take a breath
Life is special but death brings peace
Life brings reality and things you believe
Death is hard for everyone around
Death is quiet, no more bad sounds
Life is also hard, all the things we go through
Life can never be easy, no matter what you do
Death is sad, for those who cry
Death is meaningful, for those who die
Life is a work of art, it's nice to look
Life is full of teachings, like an open book
Death is the new life, might as well be dead
Death is a lot more, for what's up ahead
Life brings new things, always something new
Life brings surprises, something out the blue
Death is scary, nothing we want to see
Death is negative, a place we don't want to be
Life is full of love, with the ones close to you
Life is full of money, for those who sue
Death is empty, nothing compared to this
Death is a lot of things, too long of a list
But life is everything; don't wait till there's nothing left
Death can wait, so don't waste your last breath
So just pick your choice, which one? Life or death?
poem by Triauna Hall
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Too Proud
The wail fills the genesis;
you are not living in me any more.
Outside a grey mist of absence prevails.
For a while there was stillness
of white death, then roaring of a
hurricane, before it struck the ancient wall
of a levee. I started gathering my
sky, in ruins of a screaming town.
Faith was walking without legs.
Annihilation with a smile of a calender, starts;
trees and bone littered floating.
I start to understand the stalling darkness.
The human bleed now attracts the wolves
to maul, to tear, to drown
the breath of burned out spirit.
Still a cinder smoulders in debris,
to dislodge the burden of life,
for the face lift of a hanging man.
poem by Satish Verma
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That Girl I Once Called My Friend
To my former BFF, Thanks for ruining my life.
Shudder deep
rise through my spine
burning sensation
rage pulsates in my eyes
How could you lie?
polish sympathy
'sworn' loyalty
faded appearance
you don't know who much I miss him
you don't need him
he doesn't need your games
When you tell me to get over him
You have never been in love.
poem by Heather Sarah Poules
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Dragontown
Well Here you are
lying bleeding on a grimy street
see the broken glass
sparkling darkly as it cuts your feet
smell the rotting stench
the rancid odor of ocantonese
feel the toxic flames
all around you
you can hardly breathe
come with me
Come on
Iv'e got something to show you
come on
you thought that it was over
come on
your really gonna like this
come on
come on
come on
come on
we can dig you a home
deep in the ground
bury your soul
down Dragontown
we'll be lower than low
spiraling down
fallin' fewer than go
down Dragontown
open any door
remember everyone
youve meet before
oh theres a wicked young man
cooking slowly in a frying pan
and a family of bones
hung back together
sleeping all alone
then theres alice dear
and evrything that got it here
now your here
Come on
Iv'e got something to show you
come on
you thought that it was over
come on
your really gonna like this
come on
come on
come on
come on
we can dig you a home
deep in the ground
bury your soul
down Dragontown
we'll be lower than low
spiraling down
fallin' fewer than go
down Dragontown
we can dig you a home
deep in the ground
bury your soul
down Dragontown
we'll be lower than low
spiraling down
fallin' fewer than go
down Dragontown
we can dig you a home
deep in the ground
bury your soul
down Dragontown
we'll be lower than low
spiraling down
fallin' fewer than go
down Dragontown
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Dragontown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Wild Life
Im wearin
Fur pyjamas
I ride a
Hot potata
Its tickling my fancy
Speak up, I cant hear you
Here on this mountaintop
Woahoho
I got some wild, wild life
I got some news to tell ya
Woahoho
About some wild, wild life
Here comes the doctor in charge
Woahoho
Shes got some wild, wild life
Aint that the way you like it?
Ho, ha!
Living wild, wild life.
I wrestle, with your conscience
You wrestle, with your partner
Sittin on a window sill, but he
Spends time behind closed doors
Check out mr. businessman
Oh, ho ho
He bought some wild, wild life
On the way to the stock exchange
Oh, ho ho
He got some wild, wild life
Break it up when he opens the door
Whoahoho
Hes doin wild, wild life
I know thats the way you like it
Wo ho
Living wild, wild life
Peace of mind?
Piece of cake!
Thought control!
You get on board anytime you like
Like sittin on pins and needles
Things fall apart, its scientific
Sleeping on the interstate
Woah ho ah
Getting wild, wild life
Checkin in, a checkin out!
Uh, huh!
I got a wild, wild life
Spending all of my money and time
Oh, ho ho
Done too much wild, wild
We wanna go, where we go, where we go
Oh, ho ho!
I doing wild, wild
I know it, thats how we start
Uh, huh
Got some wild, wild life
Take a picture, here in the daylight
Oh, ho!
And its a wild, wild life
Youve grown so tall, youve grown so fast
Oh, ho ho
Wild, wild
I know thats the way you like it
Oh, ho!
Living wild wild wild wild, life.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Cemetery
last Friday
i went to the cemetery
i like the silence of the place
the trimmed grass
and the tiled mausoleums
the air is warm on this cemented
territory
this silent city
this paradise of mutes and
rested souls
i like the creeping vines with white flowers
and reddish center
i envy the stones and the pebbles
i appreciate the grills and the shiny
engravings
metallic dates of death and birth
and the last epitaphs of the
beloved
but like you
i do not wish to stay that longer
it is not my time yet
as i still have other places to go
the noisy ones
the intriguing places of the heart
those where we lose ourselves
and wish sometimes
that homes be not that far away
that lights in the living room and the kitchen
still function well
the odor of the fried bananas
the aroma of coffee
the smoke from their tobacco pipes
the smell of perfume on slender necks
the silk in their gowns
the colors of their eye shades
the movement of their hands
the activity of our worlds
on their orbits our bodies as planets
in our living universe.
we offer flowers for the dead
we wish them luck too
and we keep on moving somewhere
not losing hope
keeping the grip for life
whatever that be.
the marital bed of course
keeps the central point of this existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Strange Relationship
Death has been my partner,
my best friend.
Every day the fear,
greets me in my bed,
and body starts dying.
I join the play.
The sun clips the clouds,
my lungs fills with aroma.
A golden bird starts singing
on the swaying leaves of palm.
Death smears me with ideas,
larger than pain
before and after it was foggy.
I sleep, half-opened eyes,
watching over with face
to the window.
Life moves from grief to grief.
A tiny seed pulsates
in the crevice of mind,
I love a view like that.
One hundred moons
and a dying sun.
An immence contrast.
Whom shall I choose as a prologue?
I cannot tread the center
of unborn story. The clouds
are always crimson before
the night. Life has
a shadow of death – and a strange
relationship survives.
poem by Satish Verma
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Colors Of Night
A crumpled layer on the evening tea
Says of a fate long awaited
We find ourselves alone you and me
Without knowing when the daylights fade!
The smell of seasons is still around
The mystic brushes in the sky
The glorious world its beauties abound
We never know when the years pass by!
Still a little place is there warm and bright
That throbs with the colors of night
Without the strength of senses and sights
It pulsates beyond fading daylights!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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