Chap's Centimeter
Chap’s centimeter—
Longer, higher
Unreachable by
A mile from where
We are
The sins that
Mothers hush up
Keep the children
At the school—
Worried, disturbed
Chap’s centimeter—
Deeper, stronger
Misunderstood by
Intelligent minds
In the stock market
And church and government—
The treasures that
Mothers earn
Are kept safely
In the bank
Chap’s centimeter—
Darker, bluer
Unseen by
Travelers of tomorrow
Raised a money
Borrowed from none
Their strength is strength
Of one man—
He that kills courage
Is not a brave man
(written on June 25,2008 Marikina City, Philippines)
poem by Chester Maynes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
All of us, whether or not we are warriors, have a cubic centimeter of chance that pops out in front of our eyes from time to time. The difference between an average man and a warrior is that the warrior is aware of this, and one of his tasks is to be alert, deliberately waiting, so that when his cubic centimeter pops out he has the necessary speed, the prowess, to pick it up.
quote by Carlos Castaneda
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
The Mercenary View
I knew a poor remittance man,
A decent chap, but funny,
In days when my ideas began
To be controlled by money
He wore a swank, patrician air;
But, oh, his life was filled with care,
For he had seldom cash to spare;
His mien was far from sunny.
I fear I was a snobbish youth
Who led a prig's existence.
I snubbed the chap, to tell the truth,
And kept him at a distance.
His clothes, well cut, were often worn
Threadbare. Tho' he was gently born
His friendship I refused with scorn
Despite his soft insistence.
But now the whirligig of time
Sees fit to elevate him.
While, lo, the money that was mine
Is shrinking, seriatim;
And faced by serious mishap.
While he reclines in Fortune's lap.
I'd like to find the dear old chap
I'd want to cultivate him.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Women Of Courage
Women of courage, women of strength ,
Women of faith and devotion.
Mothers of children with spirits so strong
Who may have unbridled imaginations. REFRAIN: They are women, women of courage
They are Christians, towers of strength.
They are women who put Jesus first in life
Show’ ring His love on all those they greet. Women with losses, women who love,
Whose strength and whose courage comes from above,
Whether they're mothers; or loving Aunties,
It's plain to see Jesus’ love shines through them. REFRAIN: They are women, women of courage
They are Christians, towers of strength.
They are women who put Jesus first in life
Show’ring His love on all those they greet. Women I work with, women I know,
Whether at church, or other places I go.
Women whose spirits are battered by pain,
But Christ lifts them up, and they go on again. REFRAIN: They are women, women of courage
They are Christians, towers of strength.
They are women who put Jesus first in life
Show’ring His love on all those they greet.
poem by Kathy L. Goings
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Borrowed
borrowed shirts, borrowed shoes,
borrowed books, borrowed thoughts,
borrowed bed, borrowed lover,
borrowed dreams, borrowed salt.
borrowed children, borrowed mothers,
borrowed study, borrowed lives.
borrowed God, borrowed heaven,
borrowed killers with borrowed knives.
borrowed flags, borrowed lies,
borrowed virtue, borrowed freedom.
borrowed bombs, borrowed bullets,
borrowed puppets, borrowed kingdoms.
borrowed soup bowls, borrowed numbers,
borrowed tents, borrowed bridge.
borrowed hope, borrowed survival,
borrowed till it's sacrilige!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Mother's Day Poem For You
Written by my Grand daughter
Cayce Taylor
Her first poem.
May 6,2008
Mothers do not like it
When their children are sad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are bad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are mad.
But, Mothers do like it
When their children are glad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been sad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been bad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been mad.w
Dear mom, I only want
To make you very glad.
Happy mothers day mom from Cayce
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pac-a-mac
I wear my cap with pride
When swaying side to side
Indoors where it be crude
Too late to find me shrewd.
I never lay in doubt
When walking from about
At home where it be warm
Youre sound asleep unborn!
Im a small chap
Walk tall chap
When it rains
Cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac.
Inside a rubber wall yelling
Screams echo, off the ceiling.
My love could penetrate
So Ill leave you now prostrate.
My fag smoulders out and out
And odours waft there about
So I give my head a kip
My caps worn to a split.
Im a small chap
Walk tall chap
When it rains
Cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac.
I wear my cap with pride
When swaying side to side
Indoors where I feel nude
Too late to find me shrewd.
I never lay in doubt
When walking from about
At home where it be warm
Youre sound asleep unborn!
Im a small chap
Walk tall chap
When it rains
Cats and dogs
From my pocket I pick a pac-a-mac.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Chap Stick, Chapped Lips, And Things Like Chemistry
Ok, so, who doesn't own a cell phone
Who brought back their permission slip
Because I know nobody wants to stay home
While the rest of us go out and make a day of it
[Chorus]
Cause theme parks are so much more fun when the sun's outside
And I lost my phone to the lake beneath the Batman ride
They're starting something, and I don't want to begin it
(I don't want to begin it)
They're looking for trouble, but with me it won't be found
(With me, won't be found)
And I regret that I'm completely out of daytime minutes
(I don't want to begin it)
And, so, I guess I'll have to wait a lot til 8 o'clock comes around
Ok, so, who doesn't have a cell phone
Well, I don't need to ask my friends
Because, I know mine was fastened to my jawbone
Thanks to all those nights and weekends
[Chorus]
When it comes to relationships (I'm the dumbest one)
And I don't mean just with girls (I mean with everyone)
Your illustrations always point out just what's wrong with me
It's Chap Stick, and Chapped Lips, and things like Chemistry
It's Chap Stick, and Chapped Lips, and things like...
It's Chap Stick, and Chapped Lips, and things like...
It's Chap Stick, and Chapped Lips, and things like Chemistry
Can I relate to you the way you relate to me
Can you help me out with my chemistry
I don't want to be perceived the way I am
I just want to be perceived the way I am
song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bound for the Lord-Knows-Where
'Where are you going with your horse and bike,
And the townsfolk still at rest?
Where are you going, with your swag and pack,
And the night still in the West?
Your clothes are worn, and your cheques are gone,
But your eyes are free from care?”
“We’re bushmen down for a spree in town,
And we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are great dark scrubs in the Lord-knows-where,
Where they fight it out alone,
There are wide wide plains in the Lord-knows-where,
Where a man’s soul is his own.
There is healthy work, there is healthy rest,
There is peace from self-torture there,
And the glorious freedom from paltriness!
And they’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now, where are you going in your Sunday suit,
And a bag for your second best?
Now where are you going with your chest of tools,
And the old togs in the chest?
With your six clean shirts and a pound of ‘weed’,
And enough for a third-class fare?”
“Oh! I’ll be afloat by the very next boat,
And I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are wide wide seas to the Lord-knows-where,
Where a man might have a spell,
The things turn up in the Lord-knows-where that
We waited for too well.
There’s a stranger land in the Lord-knows-where,
And a show for the stranger there.
There is war and quake more work to make,
And he’s bound for the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now where are you going with your Gladstone bag,
With your shirt-case and valise?
Now where are you going with your cap and shoes,
And your looks of joyful peace?
Now where are you going with your money belts,
And your drafts on the first bank there?”
“’We have made a hit,’ or ‘we’ve made a bit,’
And we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are sinful ports in the Lord-knows-where,
There are marvellous sights to see,
There are high old games in the Lord-knows-where,
That were known to you and me.
There is love and music, and life and light from
The Heads to “Lester” Square,
There is more than space for their high young hearts
There is safety or danger there,
And they’ll come back wild, or they’ll come back tamed
When they’ve been to the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now where am I going with my whisky flask,
And with little else beside?
Now where am I going with my second shirt,
To wear while the first is dried?
I have marred my name, and I’ve lost my fame,
But my hope’s in good repair.
There are lies about, there are warrants out—
And I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old Chap—and I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There’s a rise and fall of the sloping decks,
That is good for a soul in pain;
There’s the drowsy rest on the sunlight sea
Till your strength comes back again.
Oh, the wild mad spirit is hypnotized,
And nerves are tranquil there,
And the past is hushed in forgetfulness,
On the road to the Lord-knows-where.)
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some Mothers Son
Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Reign
Pulled in again by reigns unforgiving
Yes, I'm alive but is this what you call living?
It's a centimeter forward only to be jerked back a mile
While I'm expected to sit quiet, listen well, be a more perfect child
The worst kind of control is one you can reclaim
A decedent to your jailer only in name
Wondering through a maze that you know the end to
With the knowledge you're stuck no matter what you do
Is choice with limits really choice at all?
A stumble means nothing if you catch me every time I fall
The tighter you hold me the farther I'll flee
Pulling the bridle from my mouth until I finally control
Me
poem by Aria Siren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Children Need Their Fathers
The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!
And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.
People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!
'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'
~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~
'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '
~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry means...uh...
When I was very young,
Poetry
was written by
AA Milne.
and life was comfy.
When I was an adolescent,
Poetry
was written by
pansies for pansies about pansies.
though daffodils
were lifestyle and exam-inable.
and life was scary
When I was at college,
Poetry
was written by
a chap in a leather jacket
who glared at you angrily
on his no-gear pushbike
as he rode out to save the world.
and life was a cold war and still scary.
When I was middle-aged,
Poetry
was in the assured embrace
of the Arts Council and a chap at the BBC
and the world managed quite well without poets
but life was still scary.
Now
I am old enough
to swop lifestyle notes with Jenny Joseph,
Poetry
means that
a poem's 'text' may be
i h8 u
BUT
it's read right round the world
by lots of people. Like you.
and life is full of promise...
Now that deserves a Metaphor.
'A what? ' said Pooh.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Trace My Love
Follow me find me,
call me come to me,
Touch me hold me,
Kiss me and love me.
Here I am, close to you,
There you are far from me,
rise your hand and hold me,
kiss me and love me,
Here I am on the highest mountains,
not Kilimanjaro, nor Evarist,
It is here on the great lakes,
not Victoria nor tanganyika
Am just here, in the green desert,
from the snow in the drought,
Not in the forest of Amazone,
Find me in the food with diet.
Look up to the sky,
Am in there in the sands,
Not even in the food,
just find me, am good,
Hurry up and look for me,
Chap chap don't fail me,
Am waiting just trace me,
almost tired resque me,
Am just here you can see me,
Not there just trust me,
not in the crowd of people,
not in the city nor in the village
Am just here run to me,
I can hear you believe me,
I can see you look at me
Trace my love Am in you.
poem by Dickson Mseti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Women I Know
Strong are the women
In my family.
Every last one...
Seem to have the strength,
To shadow some men...
As if they had none!
And f-i-n-e! Yes!
Beautiful with power.
Mothers who have raised children.
Some without their fathers.
To become themselves...
Strong and bright!
And dynamic in one's sight!
And yes...
They too,
Are f-i-n-e!
Some ask me 'why'...
I have no better half!
Why I am divorce?
And my relationships seem not to last!
I know the answer...
Of course!
Strong are the women
In my family.
Every last one...
Seem to have the strength,
To shadow some men...
As if they had none!
And the men in my family,
Are even stronger than some!
And...
Yes!
They too are f-i-n-e!
And I am left spoiled.
Wishing for one like them!
Not the men! !
But then...
These women I know and related to...
Are few in the market!
And I have stopped shopping...
For a companion to compare!
Beauty, strength and independence are rare.
And these women in my family have it all!
And even more to spare.
I would have to leave this Earth...
To discover someone not to compare,
To these women I love!
And we are related too!
This for me is so difficult.
For me to feel this...
Is so unfair!
However...
No burden is this do I bare!
But then..
To know so many women,
With qualities I like!
Cousins or aunts...
Of my blood 'everywhere'!
And joke,
I do not!
It's true.
Every woman I ever adored...
Has my last name too!
Yeeeessss!
God...
Please lift me from this curse!
hahahahaha
I can't like some I know...
Rehearse wedding after wedding,
After wedding after wedding!
Addicted to romantic delusions!
I know what I'll do!
I will move.
Build a hut in the Amazon.
Or the Congo!
And get it on...
With the monkeys!
Feeling free not to bother,
To ask for ID.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lost Mothers...
not all mothers nurture
some have also lost their kind ways
their children neglected
others given away
nature has a way of creating
deviant mothers
those who prefer their men
rather than their children
those that slap innocence
those that sell those buds of beauty
before they ever bloom
those that lead them to perdition
but just the same
all are forgotten and forgiven
mothers too commit mistakes
humans as they are
too like everyone
happy mothers' day just the same
from your faithful and forgiving children
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Miracles
Clouds drift away
when they see you
Rain wouldn't dare
to fall near you here
Miracles happen
when you're around
Somehow the grass is much greener
Rivers flow faster and cleaner
Being with you
no matter where
sunlight breaks through
and suddenly there's
A bluer sky
whenever you're around
You always bring
a bluer sky
a brighter day
Thunder is silent before you
Roses bloom more to adore you too
Miracles happen
when you're around
The sunset is deeper and longer
The scent of the jasmine is stronger
Stray dogs don't bite
Birds start to sing
Lightening daren't strike
You suddenly bring
A bluer sky
whenever you're around
You always bring
a bluer sky
a brighter day
Birds fly
even higher in the sky
Sun shines
It's a new day
Being with you
no matter where
sunlight breaks through
and suddenly there's
A bluer sky
whenever you're around
You always bring
a bluer sky
a brighter day
(Miracles happen)
Birds fly
even higher in the sky
(Miracles happen)
Sun shines
It's a new day
(Miracles happen)
Sun shines
It's a new day
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Drafted
The biggest moment in our lives was that when first he cried,
From that day unto this, for him, we've struggled side by side.
We can recount his daily deeds, and backwards we can look,
And proudly live again the time when first a step he took.
I see him trudging off to school, his mother at his side,
And when she left him there alone she hurried home and cried.
And then the sturdy chap of eight that was, I proudly see,
Who packed a little grip and took a fishing trip with me.
Among the lists of boys to go his name has now appeared;
To us has come the sacrifice that mothers all have feared;
And though we dread the parting hour when he shall march away,
We love him and the Flag too much to ask of him to stay.
His baby ways shall march with him, and every joy we've had,
Somewhere in France some day shall be a little brown-eyed lad;
A toddler and a child at school, the chum that once I knew
Shall wear our country's uniform, for they've been drafted, too.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Father God
Father we leave year 2007 and walk through the gate of 2008
Father God, I thank you for all the years you have given me.
For allowing me to live with love, trust and prosperity.
Oh Father I travelled through darkness back into the light.
You never let me out of your sight.
You are my strength, you are my power,
you never forgot me in my saddest hour.
When all else fails you stand by my side
giving me the courage needed to survive.
Father thank you for the precious gifts,
My children, my talents, the honour to live.
To see your beauty from an earthlings eyes.
To gaze at the view in your awesome sky.
I thank you for the earth so beautiful and green,
the vast waters filled with treasures unseen.
Thank you Father for every breath I take
For the eyes to see each morning i wake
In the name of your precious son Jesus
Thank you Father God.
Written: Jan.8,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rain Water
Morning of 21st, I am 34.
The rain outside my window drizzles a rhythm of February dawn.
Rain water flows from the early morning sane—
Rain water washes the yesterday’s pain.
Rain water and I have loved you dear—
Rain water and you come close to me near.
Rain water taps my fingertips, and I love you more than yearning—
Rain water runs deeper into our skins of longing.
Morning of 21st, I am happier.
The rain won’t stop until I melt as a better person.
(written on February 21,2008 Marikina City, Philippines)
poem by Chester Maynes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bank Robber
I much admire, I must admit,
The man who robs a Bank;
It takes a lot of guts and grit,
For lack of which I thank
The gods: a chap 'twould make of me
You wouldn't ask to tea.
I do not mean a burglar cove
Who climbs into a house,
From room to room flash-lit to rove
As quiet as a mouse;
Ah no, in Crime he cannot rank
With him who robs a Bank.
Who seemeth not to care a whoop
For danger at its height;
Who handles what is known as 'soup,'
And dandles dynamite:
Unto a bloke who can do that
I doff my bowler hat.
I think he is the kind of stuff
To be a mighty man
In battlefield,--aye, brave enough
The Cross Victorian
To win and rise to high command,
A hero in the land.
What General with all his swank
Has guts enough to rob a Bank!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!