Beyond The Sky At Night
Here we go touring again
The post-Holocaust
Not quite post-Holocene
Both driver and guide -
The worst psychopaths -
Learned their route from worse despots
The moon no longer
So nebulous;
The sun still perilously dear
All the dusty fruits of the sky
Nearer the harvest;
Farther away.
poem by Jay D. Allard

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Do Not Post Your Poem Here
Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!
Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!
Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?
Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!
Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!
I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?
poem by Joe Hughes

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The past is a guide post, not a hitching post.
quote by L. Thomas Holdcroft

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whipping Post
I been run down, I been lied to,
I dont know why I let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now shes with one of my goodtime buddies,
Theyre drinkin in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
My friends tell me, that Ive been such a fool,
And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what youve down.
But nothin seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And I cant run.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Whipping Post
I been run down, i been lied to,
I don't know why i let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now she's with one of my goodtime buddies,
They're drinkin' in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
My friends tell me, that i've been such a fool,
And i have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin' you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and i look at what you've down.
But nothin' seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And i can't run.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Post-Death Harvest
Songs sung by those now dead
Are no longer heard as were.
So are actors now no more.
Don’t sow for post-death harvest.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Where Is She?
Where is she, I wondered, when she wasn't there.
If she's not here she could be anywhere. She could be
anywhere and not alone.
I began to imagine the worst. At every imagining
I thought I had imagined the worst, then I imagined
something even worse. It got to the point where my
imaginings no longer included her. I realized that the
worst did not encompass her. As my imaginings continued,
as worst superseded worst, making the preceding worst
only worse, I began to forget her. As worst got worse,
I forgot her more. Things were getting pretty bad, and
I had almost forgotten her completely, when she
reappeared.
poem by Peter Cherches

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Idealism that makes no distinction between areas where our national interest lies and those from which it is remote does no good for America. The weariness of the post-Versailles, post-Korea, post-Vietnam eras is never far from the national mood.
quote by Dick Morris

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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10/31/2007 Command Post Controller
I work in the command post,
You wouldn’t know there everywhere from coast to coast.
We work while everyone else is wake and sleeping,
We do things that help our nations safe keeping.
No one understands the command post because,
No one fully grasps what the command post does.
Know this though,
Controllers are at work even in the snow.
Holidays we are still here,
24-7 every day of the year.
I work in the command post,
Family I miss the most.
But I don’t gripe nor complain,
I’m proud to serve I have no shame.
Next time your working your nine to five,
Remember controllers actions help keep you alive.
When you lay your head down and asleep you drift,
Remember a command post controller is still on shift.
poem by Coreena Dejesus

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October the Post Office Cat
Some thought she was a stray
That had come for scraps along the way
That might be left from the lunch
Of the post office staff; a kindly bunch.
But others knew her for what she was,
October the Post Office Cat.
She had a duty like any employee
To be on time and serve the public daily
And as any other as all know,
Had an official position just so.
October the Post Office Cat.
As soon as the walks were swept
And the doors were opened for the daily visits,
She found her space upon the walk
A bit removed so that none would balk
As they came to do their task or mail whatever.
October the Post Office Cat.
She often times was given the duty
Of minding some child whose custodian
Had business to attend
In dealing with the letters or packages within,
So she laid there carefully in the sun
Till end of day when her work was done.
October the Post Office Cat.
She was known by all who came along that way
Parking carefully throughout the day
Making sure that she was not disturbed
As she, her duties did perform.
Watching and listening to the sounds of pleasure
That only can be bestowed on one to treasure.
Yet adults knew not how to measure.
October the Post Office Cat.
On the post across the way
A yellow sign was placed on display
By the lady who ran the insurance office
Who wanted to be sure that others notice
That this was the path taken each day
As the cat came to begin her official stay.
October the Post Office Cat.
There came a time when she did not appear
And it was certainly a time to fear
That something had befallen this special one
Who worked so hard to please everyone
And the sign was removed so that all would know
That she wouldn't be there anymore.
October the Post Office Cat.
Then mysteriously the sign reappeared
On the post for all to read
Which proclaimed that this was the crossing
Reserved for the cat that all were missing.
And it's said that she comes each day
Although never seen by adults on their way
But the children know that she is there.
October the Post Office Cat.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow

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Where cries begin when a broken tear smiles
I rest under a shady tree
Autumnal faded leaves tremble
with the peevish wind.
It looks like a Beethoven's symphony.
And I gaze at a faraway roof top flag post.
Torn flag waves in its sad rhythm
But the flag post stands straight
Like a young recruit.
Oh! If I am a newly painted flag post in the battlefield of life
Then I could have teach the flag how to show its true colors.
* To my unseen friend the silent song smith Nick Percowycz.
No palpitation heard since a long time from your territory. [Anchorville/Michigan] Are you passing well my dear?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Will I Still Write Poems When I Can No Longer Publish Or Post Them?
Will I still write poems when I can no longer publish or post them?
Of course I will-
I wrote poetry for years
when I knew their only readers were hoped- for ones-
I will write my poems
because they are my soul
my confessiion
my expression of deepest feeling
because they give meaning to my life-
I will write poemw as long as I can-
publish or post or not-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Nearer my God to Thee
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Tho' like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
There let the way appear,
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy be given,
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if, on joyful wing
Cleavihg the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Vows Of Love
We will throw our flowers
In moon blue river.
Carrying promises out to sea.
All that is ours
Will ride the waves
To sweet eternity.
We will box our dreams
And wrap them with bows.
Then post them
To wherever the wind of change blows.
And wait for reply
Of a harvest moon.
Flying them in the sky
With a silent tune.
We will keep our love
In rainbows above.
Until sunset steals
Our multi coloured bliss.
Each morning,
To be born again
In sunlit dew.
Or silver rain.
poem by Kevin East

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Inspired by Issa - Harvest Moonn
harvest moon -
the field flying
with broken stalks
harvest moon -
no more loud sighs
from the windy fields
harvest moon
thanksgiving incense
trails over fields
harvest moon
the garden echoes with plan
for the next season
inspired by
harvest moon-
some are stretched out
some praying
-Issa,1821
http: //cat.xula.edu/issa/
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Feelin Down Farther
Tom johnston
Well, the sun is shinin
A new day is here
All the people smilin
And the sky is clear
Not an hour wasted will I share with you
Got to keep lovin, mama
No matter what I do
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Jesus, hear me
When I sing out loud
The echoes of my gladness
Fall upon the crowd
I dont care for sadness
And I dont need fear
I hope they finally realize
That the feelin is near
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Givin and receivin
Are all I know
Some of you will find it
And youll probbly let it show
Only one thing that I know to be true
Every day is different, mama
And so are you
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
song performed by by Doobie Brothers

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is no post-9/11. Everything from now until the end of time is post-9/11.
quote by Joe Bob Briggs

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Need Binding Referendums Now Feb 19th 2011
We don’t need to go somewhere else to solve our legal problems,
We can do it here in Canada with binding referendums,
But we don’t have binding referendums because they are banned,
And worse, only establishment media moguls can take a stand.
And now and then we even have an election where they boast,
Though no set-date elections allowed and only first past the post,
No proportional representation or equalization,
In our so called stable democratic first-past-the-post nation.
And our politicians are busy taxing and spending right now,
Therefore binding referendums is something they will not allow,
This will not be discussed on TV or written in the papers,
Nor will death with dignity or any other strange capers.
FEB 19TH,2011
poem by James Bredin

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Bussing Blues (Fun Poem 56)
I caught a bus and bought a ticket
to the end of the route.
As I bought the ticket,
the driver asked
if I was going all the way.
I said I was
as cheerful as can be.
Great can you show me where to go,
as I’ve never driven this route before?
Gladly I said and showed him the way.
Now some might find that funny
a passenger helping the bus driver
to which way he should take.
The truth of the matter this really did happen
as I went home today
and that passenger that helped him was me.
24 January 2008
poem by David Harris

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