She Is A Country
Japan is in the wind
her culture has been made
on the far east land
by the seasons in the wind from every direction
take rice for instance
without the rainy season in June
we wouldn't have that delicious rice in this world
clouds roll by to the east
I am sure your country also has unique culture on her own
I'd like to meet you and her
Related quotes
A Fine Culture
They were indeed simple people
the people of the east
A FINE CULTURE they did have
the people of the east
A FINE CULTURE
the east should have given the rest
when the west brought out the 'machine'
the east brought out the 'human'
Today's world is not lacking in machine
Today's world is lacking in human
Today's east is sending 'productive men' all over
the east should have sent 'human men' all over
How did the east stray?
when did it loose it's way?
The east then found everything in simplicity
simplicity was it's strength and beauty
simplicity gave the east it's integrity
simplicity never ever gave the east an inferiority
Today the east mocks the west
the 'material' wealth of the west..has
put to rest...the
true spirit of the east
We blame it on simplicity
we say we were plundered due to our simplicity
a handed down book on simplicity
only became a liability..we say
What the west had gained
everybody did gain...the 'machine'
what the east had lost
everbody did loose...the 'human'
Today what are we in
an 'un human' man is managing a dangerous dumb 'machine'...and
THAT'S THE DANGER WE ARE IN...without
a fine culture
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Museum of Culture
Preserving the culture has been like the tusk of mastodons,
This is only suitable for preserving in the billiard balls,
Sustaining the culture has been like the extinct saber truth,
That is only suitable for experimental use.
Other customs are influencing on the real ones,
Like Mongols of east, east culture is ruling west,
And, as barbarians of west, west cultures have come to east,
So, preserving it has been a museum’s job.
In the show case of museum our tradition is seeing the change,
Youth are busy copying other’s tradition,
All are getting puzzled in culture,
Can’t we once again retain our own ethnicity?
The clear answer I hear is ‘no’.
Thanks to Museum of culture which is dong it.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Lorenzo
Once upon a time I made a lion roar -
He was sleeping in the sunbeams on the old zoo floor.
I had gone to see the park where my papa used to play,
Its called called villa borghese and its on the way
To east africa.
Down on grand comoro island, where I grew past four,
I could swim and fish and snorkel on the ocean floor,
And the wind laughed, and the wind laughed through the trees as if to say,
Heres a child wholl want the world to go his way
In east africa, in east africa.
Suddenly for me the world turned upside down -
Far from my friends the lions and the dolphins came this awful sound.
Dark shadows, sounds of thunder raging over me,
Came this monster called a-dre-no-leu-ko-dys-tro-phy
Wheres my east africa?
Well they said, they said, they said (the ones who know it all)
They said from now on for you there will be no more standing tall,
So I took my parents hands, I lifted my head to say
Ill just have to be a hero, theres no other way!
Back to east africa
Back to east africa
Back to east africa
Come with me Im going back, going back to east africa.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Racism and the Culture Of Racism
We must be aware…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It’s a slur and a swear….,
The Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can’t turn your back….,
On the Culture Of Racism….,
Or you’ll feel the whack…,
Of the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
It’s hard to believe….
The Culture Of Racism….,
That’s why we all grieve….,
The Culture Of Racism…! ! !
We must face the facts….,
On the Culture Of Racism ….! ! !
Cause we’ve seen the attacks…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It follows us all…,
The Culture Of Racism….,
But we must stand tall….,
Against the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can we control or stop it….,
As long as it’s been livin’….? ? ?
That’s the priceless question….,
On the Culture Of Racism…! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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The Wind's Journey
Winds blowing from the east
Transplanted scents into the west,
Wandered into jungles of concrete wall,
Struggling to fit in cranny nooks of tall
Structures, that hastens its journey through
Man-made woods – a jungle of towers blew
And drove the wind from western grey mist,
Back to the east, refresh and crisply blest,
While easterly mist touched the west wind
And blow forth again to trees and leaves of green
From east to the west its circular route dawdle
Wanting to re-touch thus lingered to mingle
Attempting to refine a wind made stale
By man’s rancorous ill will, east wind’s wail
The west wind wavered, intertwined forever
To retouch and refresh the earth’s dwindling fresh air
poem by Jona PoloRamirez
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4. Blow me down
The North wind blew on Monday
As the East wind got the flu
The West wind blew on Tuesday
As the South wind never knew
The North East wind had Wednesday
As the South West wasn’t chuffed
The North West blew on Thursday
As the South East hardly puffed
The East and West blew Friday
As the others had a rest
The North and South blew Saturday
As the weekends were the best
The lot of them had Sunday
As the winds turned into storm
The whole of them had Monday off
As the week got back to norm
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Wind Of Prediction
As the trees play in the breeze
Do you wonder what it may mean.
Does the wind coming from a certain direction
Mean something we should heed.
North wind blows cold and dry
Originating from the elements of earth
Read as the wind of death, colour black
Time to abondon issues no longer needed
Heed the news from the North.
West wind blows moist and fertile
Elements of water, coloured blue
Soothing, sensitive and healing.
Touch the cleansing power of the West.
South wind blows hot and dry
Of element fire, colour red
Usethe initiative and passion
To boost the ideals
Haste to feel the southern breeze.
East wind blows from the orient light
Assaulting with cold dry feel
Symbol of air, coloured white
Trust new starts from the East.
North South East and West
Thus the world changes
From whence it blows
That is what it will show
Predictions blown around.
poem by Alison Smith
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Fortuna
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,
And the frost falls and the rain:
A weary heart went thankful to rest,
And must rise to toil again, 'gain,
And must rise to toil again.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,
And there comes good luck and bad;
The thriftiest man is the cheerfulest;
'Tis a thriftless thing to be sad, sad,
'Tis a thriftless thing to be sad.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west;
Ye shall know a tree by its fruit:
This world, they say, is worst to the best; --
But a dastard has evil to boot, boot,
But a dastard has evil to boot.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west;
What skills it to mourn or to talk?
A journey I have, and far ere I rest;
I must bundle my wallets and walk, walk,
I must bundle my wallets and walk.
The wind does blow as it lists alway;
Canst thou change this world to thy mind?
The world will wander its own wise way;
I also will wander mine, mine,
I also will wander mine.
poem by Thomas Carlyle
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The Culture Of Stupidity
Open your naive eyes…..,
To the Culture Of Stupidity….,
It’s all around you….,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….! !
No way to escape….,
From the Culture Of Stupidity ….,
It haunts and stalks you…,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….! !
It’s hard to believe it….,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….,
That so many can’t see it….,
The Culture Of Stupidity …! !
As liberals keep shying away…..,
From the overwhelming threat…..,
Of radical terrorism today…..,
How long will The Culture Of Stupidity go on….? ?
My answer is as simple as this….,
The Culture Of Stupidity shall live on…..,
As long as humankind and liberalism will exist…! !
poem by Trade Martin
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The Culture Of Stupidity
Open your eyes…..,
To the Culture Of Stupidity….,
It’s all around us….,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….! ! !
We can’t escape….,
From the Culture Of Stupidity ….,
It haunts and annoys us…,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….! ! !
It’s hard to believe it….,
The Culture Of Stupidity ….,
Why so many can’t see it….,
The Culture Of Stupidity …! ! !
So tell me, The Culture Of Stupidity ….,
How long will it go on….? ? ?
The answer is as simple as this….,
The Culture Of Stupidity shall live…..,
As long as humankind will exist…! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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Pop and Culture
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.
They peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There is a peep on pop and culture,
Without a poop to stop.
Lady Gaga got that pop.
People peep on pop and culture.
Taylor Swift's got Country Rock.
People peep on pop and culture.
And Kanye's a social poppa.
People peep on pop and culture.
With Beyonce and Jay-Z,
Seen on top in magazines.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.
We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And...
Prince is there with beats.
And Michael Jackson's Pop is sweet.
We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And Lady Gaga just rocks.
We feed on Beatles.
And they introduced this culture shock.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Day I Hate Rice
The day I hate rice
Is several rare day in a year
When I don't eat rice
I don't want to eat rice
I don't want to see it
Because I hate its taste
And I hate to think about it
If I have the day I hate rice
Then you'll know that I don't feel well
I'm bored of this procession
I want to run from this life
Because I begin to hate myself
...just a little while
And everything will be back to normal again
That's the meaning of
The day I hate rice
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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What is Culture
What is Culture?
What we think of in Rumbek
What we think of in Jerusalem
What we think of in Moscow
All different things we think, say,
Do and make at different places at the same time
What differentiate a man from insects, birds and beasts?
If you don’t have a culture
You’re a housefly
If you don’t keep your culture
You’re a beetle or cockroach
If you adopt a culture
You’re a tick
If you hate other’s culture
You’re a toad
If you don’t hate or love other’s culture
You’re real man
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Sliabh Luachra's Narrow Roads
The narrow mountain road to Cladoch Valley
That winds it's way around the bracken hill
I still have little mental pictures of it
And I hear the rippling of the mountain rill.
The road from Gneeveguilla in east Kerry
That leads up the steep slope to Knocknagree
And winds it's way up to the higher country
The beauty of the landscape I still see.
I hear 'Denis the weaver' play his fiddle
The music comes to me from far away
One of the great traditional musicians
The memory of the man lives on today.
The by roads and the cross roads of Sliabh Luachra
Off of the main road towards Killarney from Rathmore
Around Barraduff and Shrone and the Paps country
Immortalized by the bards in days of yore.
People like the legendary Aogan O Rathaille
In Irish literature his an enduring name
It's been wrote he died whilst in his early fifties
He was the first to bring to Sliabh Luachra fame.
Eoghan Rua O Suilleabhain the great wit of rural Ireland
He led a very colourful career
He recited his poems at the cross roads in Sliabh Luachra
And the people came from miles around to hear.
The narrow roads that wind along the mountains
The gurglings of the upland streams and rills
The Paps of Shrone that overlook east Kerry
In Sliabh Luachra of the valleys and the hills.
Sliabh Luachra once the home of Irish culture
It's fame spread far distant from Erin's shore
And the poetry that went all around the world
Was first read at the crossroads near Rathmore.
Some say that the past can't be linked to the present
But as sure as there is a tomorrrow they are wrong
Our culture came from the past generations
And to the distant past our roots belong.
The narrow roads that wind around Sliabh Luachra
Along the valleys and by the bracken hills
And in the old home of Gaelic Irish culture
I hear the gurglings of the streams and rills.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Vulture Culture
Lenny zakatek - lead vocal
Somehow you made it in the big wide world
And youre absolutely home and dry
You got away from a one horse town
And the only way out was to fly
You heard a lot about an easy street
And it seems like the place to be
You heard some talk about a slippery slope
But you think it cant happen to me
Vulture culture
Use it or you lose it
Vulture culture
Choose it or refuse it
Hollywood is calling wont you join the dance
Moving onto wall street why not take a chance
Its a vulture culture
Never lend a loser a hand
Just a vulture culture
Living off the fat of the land
Nowhere to turn around and catch your breath
Its all relatively trouble free
No need to bother with the bottom line
Or a money back guarantee
You sign a deal thats been etched in stone
Its absolutely cut and dry
Thats when they got you in the danger zone
And the only way out is to die
Vulture culture
Use it or you lose it
Vulture culture
Choose it or refuse it
Hollywood is waiting striking up the band
Everyone on wall street shakes you by the hand
Such a vulture culture
Never lend a loser a hand
Just a vulture culture
Living off the fat of the land
Use it or you lose it
Choose it or refuse it
Hollywoods a no go not a second chance
Nobody on wall street gives a second glance
Its a vulture culture
Moving to the beat of the band
Its a vulture culture
Never lend a loser a hand
Its just a vulture culture
Living off the fat of the land
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
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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Winds Of Seasons With Hands Of Hope
i hear the wind
by the wind sound
talking to the waves
with a wind sound
mounted upon the leaves
on the ground
to wind through
and around the leaves proudly
as it runs through me so loudly
and mannered towards me so gladly
to sing a song
by the winds of seasons
as they change in seasons
and cheer in different joy
i feel the wind under me
i can see the sun shine over me
i can walk along the path to sober me
and sleep around the hands on me
to hold me with hands of hope
as all hands do matter
to hold each soul
with hope
today and the days ever
to let the hands of hope
touch my heart
and cleanse me for yet a season
in winds of seasons
opn17082012/2305
'winds of seasons with hands of hope'
'hands of hope' book no.9 of 2012
aug.2012
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Cons: Z
A melancholy accordion.
Swimming season.
Blue lightnings.
Shoes size 40.
Istria is dying.
The sea.
Europe is dying.
Sports, the economy, politics.
Japan versus Russia.
NEW CULTURE.
New culture: humanitarianism.
New politics: humanitarianism.
New art: for man.
Europe's hour of death draws near.
Anoint it with H,SO,.
The hour of grief.
A curtain has unveiled a new world.
poem by Srecko Kosovel
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