The Habits And The Development.
Early birds wake up early to get the juiciest fruits,
Modern Men fail to sleep by working three shifts,
Countries where men are awake with bustling cities,
Where their forefathers were smart and intelligent,
To forecast the future of their children of children,
Without the corruption of corrupted vision.
Our forefathers were the reason for our failures,
Of having inefficient population and the leaders,
Who have failed to wake up early morning,
To look at the rising sun that glowing,
In the countries, where the roads are vacant,
Where railway and bus stations are empty,
Where people are still in bed at six and after,
There, people live in poverty and despair.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Related quotes
Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Certain Culture
In a certain culture,
People do eat and drink blood;
In a certain culture,
People wake up early to eat before they brush their teeth;
In a certain culture,
People eat animals already found dead;
In a certain culture,
People wake up early to eat before they bath;
In a certain culture,
People eat snakes and dogs;
In a certain culture,
People wake up to brush their teeth before eating;
In a certain culture,
People eat monkeys and crocodiles;
Ina certain culture,
People wake up in the morning to bath before they eat;
In a certain culture,
To be naked at the beachside is okay;
In a certain culture,
It is a taboo to be naked at the beachside;
And this is all about life on this earth!
Because what is sweeter on your lips is bitter on mine;
And it is very strange to experience all these facts around the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Another Day
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night remain a while,
It's painful to face another day,
Without your loving smile.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night hide me away,
So I need not face another day,
Having had no communique.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night my sweet refuge be,
For having to face another day,
Would be sheer agony for me.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night my dreams suffuse,
How can I face another day,
When my heart cannot enthuse.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night be my stalwart shield,
Then maybe I can face another day,
When my sadness has been healed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Despair Of The Early Morning
DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING
Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.
Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.
Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.
The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Know You Live A Very Simple Life
i know my friend that
you live a very simple life out there
waking up in the morning
working in the office
buying food in the market
watch tv
sleep early at night
wake up early again
listen to the morning news
a visit in the chapel
work in the office again
a chat with friends
a little drink of cali with them
sometimes
and no broken heart to nourish
like a wound that does not heal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Want To Be A Good Forefather!
Praise be to our forefathers who toiled hard,
On the soaked infested soil to flatten and build,
The dreams of what they thought specifically apt,
to their children of their children to relax and rest.
Visionaries were our ancestors, who have planned,
The neutral policies to benefit the people to thrive,
What thought they needed, that were appropriate,
to have a happy family with money and sweat.
People have luxury as they have had the adventurous ancestors,
People lead prosperous life at the intelligence of their elders,
People have the voice to speak and force others to listen,
As they have had the adaptable forefathers who have the vision.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Poem for Marziyya
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if fairies descending from clouds
Are resting on silken bed-sheets
Bright and flowery, adorned by Turkmen
Like angels have come down from heavens
In proper order
Rolling rosaries in their strong hands
Praising the Lords
And sitting in bedroom windows
Guard them
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if subservient time
Head lowered, hands clasped, dawdling
Waiting by the bedside for them to wake up
So that colours splash, morning light shows up
Flowers spread perfume
Birds sing
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
High above the shining stars
Lower than the heavens
Where fortune is distributed
Almighty packs piety, truthfulness and success
And on the wings of archangels, sends carved chests
Towards their bedrooms
Our flower-like children
[Translated from Urdu by Masror Hausen]
poem by Muhammad Izhar ul Haq
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135
i know you live a very simple life
i know my friend that
you live a very simple life out there
waking up in the morning
working in the office
buying food in the market
watch tv
sleep early at night
wake up early again
listen to the morning news
a visit in the chapel
work in the office again
a chat with friends
a little drink of cali with them
sometimes
and no broken heart to nourish
like a wound that does not heal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Call
Why art thou not awake, my son?
The morning breaks I formed for thee;
And I thus early by thee stand,
Thy new-awakening life to see.
Why art thou not awake, my son?
The birds upon the bough rejoice;
And I thus early by thee stand,
To hear with theirs thy tuneful voice.
Why sleep'st thou still? the laborers all
Are in my vineyard;—hear them toil,
As for the poor with harvest song,
They treasure up the wine and oil.
I come to wake thee; haste, arise,
Or thou no share with me can find;
Thy sandals seize, gird on thy clothes,
Or I must leave thee here behind.
poem by Jones Very
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I'm Tired
I'm tired
Not i went to sleep at 2: 00 am and had to wake up early
Not like dozing off in class
Not tired like I need more sleep
But tired of bloody wars and useless fighting
Of seeing poor, starving children who look like very fragile twigs
Of those people who are victims of hate crimes beacuse they are
different
Of hearing about children plagued my bruises from abuse
Of racism that is still and probably will always be devouring the world
I'm especially tired because I can't do much to help it all
poem by Leila Mass
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Toy for Future Children
A blind and deaf bullet buried in the field
Dozing through decades of blood and bones
Then one morning
In a bustling future
As the children return to the field
Returning to goof around and chase each other
The blind and deaf bullet will be dug up
Will be dug up and awaken
In the middle of this happiness
As the children shriek and crow
The bullet will wake up
Wake up and open its eyes
Open its eyes and explode
Explode and the children will die
Die with their bodies and faces shattered
There, that’s the toy left over by your parents
O my children
What more can I say
What can say to my children, to my children
To a pitiful future.
Early Sunday Morning
I used to mock my father and his chums
for getting up early on Sunday morning
and drinking coffee at a local spot
but now I’m one of those chumps.
No one cares about my old humiliations
but they go on dragging through my sleep
like a string of empty tin cans rattling
behind an abandoned car.
It’s like this: just when you think
you have forgotten that red-haired girl
who left you stranded in a parking lot
forty years ago, you wake up
early enough to see her disappearing
around the corner of your dream
on someone else’s motorcycle
roaring onto the highway at sunrise.
And so now I’m sitting in a dimly lit
café full of early morning risers
where the windows are covered with soot
and the coffee is warm and bitter.
poem by Edward Hirsch
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Too Early Her Sunset
Oh, so much of drowning regrets!
When faced with too early a sunset
Time seems to have been cheating
And the Future is just disappearing.
Life becomes fast drifting sands
We fail to hold in our weakened hands
Dreams and plans like mists are set
To fade like fog in too early a sunset.
Too early to think of sleep and rest
Too early for having Death as guest
Why does it seem that Fate forgets
Not to come early, too early for sunset?
It pains and grieves my frail heart so
Words to comfort, how? I don't know.
She hangs on there till the End is met
No choice but to go, too early her sunset.
For Eden, my friend. (Brain cancer victim at 38.)
Cynthia Buhain-Baello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Early sleep and early wake up, gives health and makes you grow.
Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early
His grudges
Asked me:
Why do you
Have to sleep
Early?
My nudges
Told him:
If I have
Sex with you
Dearie…
I won't be
Able to
Wake up
Early!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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In the White
In the white, early morning
I hang my face
over her head
and kiss the flesh above her brow.
I hang my neck, a bow in the air
and kiss the tiny, tickling hairs above her brow.
In the white light of morning
I hang myself over her
and kiss the flesh of her skull
Her white skull
sleeps in the early morning as I hang myself
to kiss her.
I hang myself to kiss her
as she sleeps in the white, early morning.
She does not wake to my touch.
I hang myself above her
on the white bow
of early morning.
She does not wake to my hanging.
The window is cracked and taped.
The outside air is cold, forceful.
I bend myself
above her sleeping body
to kiss her, gently on the brow.
To kiss her gently on the brow
I hang myself.
poem by Chavisa Woods
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As Things Awake
The crimson hues of morning call,
its fingers touch some but not all.
The golden orb on the horizon wake
intensifies the morning skies.
We watch in wonder
at the beauty of a dawning day.
Soon the quiet of early morn
will be shattered as things awake.
Enjoy the moments of tranquillity
as from the eastern horizon
the morning does wake.
poem by David Harris
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Freedom To My People
Dear peacekeeper
Please give freedom to my people here at home
And in the world
Some of my people have fanilies in the countries that are in war
But some of mypeople already lost their loved ones in the war in their Countries that are in war
That is because they served in the army of their country that is in the War
But they never returned home because they died fighting in the war in Their countries
So their loved ones had to pay a big price
Because at the same time they had to sacrifice their lives for their Countries at war
But my people here at home can't wait for the war to end at their Countries
So that they can go back to their countries that they came from
poem by Aldo Kraas
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