Beautiful the Virgin
Beautiful is the virgin, whose tainted purity causes pity in all man's breast.
Innocence there is not, trickery is their everything.
Has no one spared a thought to wonder?
Has no one spared a spark to the imagination?
Beautiful is the virgin, deflowered filth.
Whore to those that pity such filth, anger against those disgusted by filth.
Innocence, an illusion with such vivid imagination, whose trickery is this?
poem by Prince Daugherty
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Fountain Of Filth
There it was
Just like old faithful
The eternal fountain of filthi
I took a walk straight out of town
But then I stopped and took my time for pleasure
I was alone, I looked around
I heard a voice 50 I buckled for safety
And there it was down on the ground
A pool of sound that showed my own reflection
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I tried to run I couldnt move
Frozen solid while the thoughts of men
Attacked me
Out of my head the fountain shot
And drowned me in a serum that I couldnt
Put a stop to
It was me myself and I locked in a struggle
With the talking head below me
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I got a hunger that makes me say things
I got a hunger that makes me do things
I got a hunger that makes me want things
Im just a victim of filth
Nowhere are we safe
From the power of
From the reach of
From the appeal of
The eternal fountain of filth
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Innocence Taken
Innocence taken
by those who thought
that it was ok to lie
by those who thought
nothing matters
Innocence taken
no longer available
Innocence unable
to ever speak again
Innocence silenced
to soon
Innocence taken
there's no truth over the lie
Innocence taken
by those who thought
I'll be the same again
by those who thought
its ok to kill
by those who thought
it's ok to take
Innocence replaced
by fear and mistrust
Innocence disappeared
before it came
Innocence taken
by those who
laughed at every cry
by those who had none
Innocence reflecting
a little girls eyes
innocence taken away
without my permission
poem by Kiara Davar
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Blooming Innocence! ! !
when i found a puppy
inside the gutter
waiting for someone better
I found innocence in filth
when i ran after the stealing squirrel
who took my nuts spread for shine
i found innocence in the greens
full of life, spirit and cheers
when i hugged the face of life
so near, so dear, so close to heart
i saw innocence dripping down to earth
all my dearest fellow beings starved to death.
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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A Beautiful Mind
a beautiful mind is a loving mind
words as
anger, filth, dirt, sordid, squalid,
hate, indifference, murder
curse, envy
are not found
in a beautiful mind
what have i in my mind then to call my mind a beautiful mind
God, please be there
Saints please be all there
Angels please please be all there
i look at this mind with all honesty because i claim it to be one
beautiful mind
i am crazy
i am not a beautiful mind
as i claim to be
i am afraid all that is found in there is
just you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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After The Filth Has Been Filtered
After the filth has been filtered,
And drained from minds forced to open...
There will be more honest discussions,
Attempted and made...
Between those in shadows,
And those accustomed to giving shade.
After the filth has been filtered.
With more uninhibited wishes,
From those who escaped away from those days...
When people were afraid to remove those masks,
Some homemade...
That did not convey true portrayals.
But were worn instead,
To deny and hide themselves with choices to be led.
And after the filth has been filtered,
More of life for them begins.
More of life is felt and shared.
With the necessity of charades and masquerades,
For them to end.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Imaginary Choices
Imaginary!
I can imagine your blessed innocence,
You muse and speculate in your imagination.
Ahh, what a relief to believe that I truly have a choice in this!
Your imagination gives me hope.
Your certainty strong,
Your judgment steadfast.
If I had your imagination, I could blush at my silliness
Give myself a swift kick and stern reproach.
They are just choices you know!
Here in the safety and innocence of your imagination.
Whence did that deviant despair blow back into my soul?
Now I’m feeling sad, a lightly sort of pout
Tuck me back in your steadfast imagination.
For my hope has run dry it seems it was only imaginary.
poem by Sarah Hughes
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Food and waste
From the cradle to the grave,
We gulp every thing as sweat
And after the process of digestion
The food defecates as filth.
The world to a child is honey.
The world to the old turns a filth.
24.12.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What is beautiful?
The breeze
That comes after a cyclone is beautiful;
The calmness
That comes after furious anger is beautiful;
The quietness
That comes after ferocity is beautiful;
The happiness
That comes after sorrow is beautiful;
The light
That comes after darkness is beautiful;
The victory
That comes after a defeat is beautiful;
The union
That comes after separation is beautiful;
The poem
That comes after your imagination and intuition
Is still very beautiful!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Varanasi
Amongst the filth
the sweet sound of the flute player
carries through the heated air
and everywhere,
down the Ghats
at sunrise,
the pilgrims gather
along the sacred river Ganges;
devoted to life,
birth and death.
Here in ancient Varanasi
against the backdropp of temples centuries old,
the soul of man
finds its own way home
amongst the filth.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Innocence Matter: Restoration Perfection
Innocence is the question?
Innocence is the X factor?
Innocence is life mortality?
Innocence is sinless state immortality?
Innocence is physical perfection?
Innocence is purity soul divinity?
Innocence is state of grace harmony?
Innocence is Trinity creation link eternity?
Innocence is life breath immortality?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rogues from literacy.
Innocence is a beautiful virgin.
It is the education that rapes her.
She gives birth to a rogue.
Literary breeds more rogues.
15.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Scars Of Our Past
you say you wana know me,
But do you really?
do you see who i am?
Do you see my scars?
look closer, their carves straight into my arm.
Do you see my pain, the tears, streaming down my face.
you hold me in your arms, tell me you care,
but do you really?
How?
Im covered in their filth from what they've all done to m, no matter how many times i shower the filth wont ever leave, it will never go away. cant you see the scars that my past have left behind.
But thats okay becasue today im choosing to make a stand im leaving my scars and past behind.
poem by Alicia Tschantre
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No soul to weep
In one’s tragedy you may take pity
But in each pity there lies a grain of joy
That you had been spared of such mishap.
No soul will weep over your misfortune.
31.08.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Purity Of Snow
Love has a purity
an innocence
like untread virgin snow.
Don’t go tramping
all over it
with muddy work boots.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Innocence Inspires Paradise Harmonies
Innocence is the question?
Innocence is X factor benediction?
Innocence is gift inspiration.
creation regeneration restoration.
Innocence is healing blessing specific
of purity beauty love touch unsold.
Innocence vibrant an angelic music
infuses paradise harmonics to enfold.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Cantiga de Santa Maria No. 194
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
so against evil doers it is mighty and fearful.
Concerning this, a miracle happened in the land of Catalonia to a minstrel who sang well, with grace and ease, earning a good living, he came to lodge in the house of a greedy knight
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
who gave him all that he needed that night. However, that base and avaricious knight began to covet so greatly the donkey and clothes belonging to that minstrel that he ordered one of his men, evil and cruel,
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
to go with another of his group and waylay him in a hidden place in the mountains. The man did so gladly, for it was a favorite pastime of his, and I assure you, he was always eager to do dastardly deeds.
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
He took a companion of the same ilk with him. The next morning the minstrel took leave of the knight, and, as soon as he was on his way and they saw him travelling all alone, those two caught him in a steep and rocky place.
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
They dragged him far off the road and did not leave him anything of what he was carrying. Then they decided between them to cut off his head, but neither the Virgin nor Her glorious Son would permit it.
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
While the two were arguing over which one would kill him, they cast lots to see who would go first, but Holy Mary would not allow such a deed to be carried out, for the minstrel cried out loudly: "Mother of the merciful King
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
do not let them kill me, defend me without delay." They, when they heard this, began to run away and lost all feeling in their bodies at that moment so that they could not speak. The minstrel who had been robbed
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
of all he had possessed when he saw that they were in that state, staring at each other and not speaking between themselves, took all his belongings and went away and they remained in great fear of death
Just as the name of the Virgin is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
No one had ever heard tell of such a marvelous miracle that uttering the name of the Virgin might cause a man to feel nothing in his body. However, the prophet said long ago that Her name was as terrible as a mighty army.
Just as the name of the Virgin / is beautiful to the virtuous,
…
The minstrel went on his way, giving joyful praise to the glorious Virgin, salvation of sinners. All who heard of this, both great and small, considered it a noble and merciful miracle.
poem by Alfonso X the Wise
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Stolen Innocence
Her face is beauty
Yet marred by the pain in her eyes.
The tears she sheds
Fall to the ground
Like liquid diamonds
And shatter there alone.
And I cry for her
Stolen Innocence.
Tis a beautiful thing,
The raw purity of
Innocence in Youthful Bloom.
It's meant to last forever.
Meant to eternally bless those
Endowed with such a gift.
But when choice is stolen
And Beauty turns to Brokenness
I weep for its
Stolen Innocence.
poem by Sunny Grace
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Pity, pity, pity
Look at to the unwanted child
Look at to the divorced wife
Look at to the homeless man
What people do other than saying
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the tragic hero
Look at to the sympathized villain
Look at to the clueless victim
What witnesses do other than staring
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the crazy dreamer
Look at to the unlucky gambler
Look at to the stubborn fighter
What friends do other than whispering
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the withering flower
Look at to the starving animal
Look at to the extinct nature
What human do other than howling
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the empty spaces
Look at to the blank faces
Look at to the lost traces
What devils do other than laughing
“Pity, pity, pity”
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Angels and Innocence
Angels and innocence,
Sweet and sincere.
Purity, beautiful,
Love from a child.
Christmas and picnics,
Running on grass.
Laughter and smiles,
giggling with joy.
Sunshine and cuddles,
Snuggles asleep.
Angels and innocence,
So perfectly sweet.
poem by Aashka Thakkar
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