Freely Bound
Teach me to escape
your unforced captivity
and I'll sing your name.
(2 August 2012)
poem by Diana van den Berg
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How To Train A Snake
How To Train A Snake
Date: August 22,2012
Teach me not to suffer, dear
To rise up from the fall
Teach me to feel the sunshine
And to understand the call
Teach my heart, to be as stone
Numbed against the sting
Teach me how to shed my skin
And never feel a thing
Teach me how to carry on
To close the open doors
Teach me to darken every page
And never yearn for more
Teach me all, you know so well
To search for prey, as you
Teach me how to slither by
Still smiling when I'm through
********************************** ***********
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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Teach Me How To Fly
It's never to late to open the gate.
'Teach me.
Teach me.'
Age is nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me to free myself.
Teach me like no one else.'
Moons come and those Summers go.
It's never too late to open the gate.
Minds in fear keep those dreams slowed.
Age aint nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
It's never too late to open the gate.
'Teach me,
I'd like to try.'
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Why can't you reach me to teach me,
To break away from those limits made? '
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
I can't.
It was something I desired.
And with that desire...
I found it could be done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Teach Them Young
We teach them young,
What to dislike.
And...
To separate into divisons,
With preferences selected.
We teach them young,
How to hate and who to fight.
With weapons used to kill.
And incite with mindless deeds.
We...
Teach them this!
We teach them,
With a rehabilitation done...
To respect laws when broken.
With the best of pretentions kept.
We...
Teach them this!
We teach them young,
The art of deception.
Self righteousness and hypocriscy.
And then when they reflect these lessons taught...
We teach them denial to have others believe.
We teach them young with a doing done they do!
And yet we get upset with regrets to protest those tests,
They have passed.
With accusations directed at others to blame,
For implimenting those tasks we teach.
We...
Teach them young!
With a doing of this not to admit.
As we wish for escape from their commitments,
Made.
We...
Teach them young.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Truth About Aging
Boy looks six, Girl looks four,
I was once six, I was once four,
Young and fresh and not a bore,
All of us were once before,
Unless we find the fountain of youth,
There is none, but one truth,
Once I was hot, now I have to thaw,
I can't escape the Aging Law.
Copyright Philo Yan August 29,2012
[ Late August ]
Heat still sizzles in the fields
In August summer still yields
The sun shines to no regret
Wind sauntering 'til sunset
'though heat is being cool off by the rain
Preserving flowers, and meadow - green
But summer still taking what it brings
The August incense with fugacious wings
Bounty blooms, butterflies, bees are insane
Birds, crickets sing and the night listens
Summer's sky, bright burst so clear
It's the late August in summer's fair
Summer in August still in standby
Sooner balmy weather is coming by
The hot temper will bicker with cool air
With soothing breeze here comes September
Ency Bearis
(c) copyright 2012
poem by Ency Bearis
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The Free Captive...
the years
caged me, i am held captive
by the time that
it is keeping,
i keep memories of
captivity,
i peck upon those
grains
and rest upon
a satisfied
belly,
some people are bothered
why i do not escape
when the door is open
and there is no
one
guarding it,
the captor had long died
due to
insomnia
time made me
fall in love
with
captivity and since
then
it has made me feel
that i
am freer
than those who
dive in air
and plunge themselves
too painfully
on land.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Escape
Escape
Escape
That one word resonates in my mind
I need an escape a reprieve from
All this energy surrounding me
Escape
Escape
I want to be let out for awhile
To be free and alone
To do what I want without interference
Escape
Escape
I don't wanna hear arguing
Or little petty problems
I want to not have to do anything
Escape
Escape
I want to Escape
poem by Autumn Winds
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Best Of Me In You
If I cannot wake,
I cannot sing;
If I cannot sing,
I cannot joy.
If I cannot joy,
I cannot make-
The best of me in you.
I shall arise with the birds,
And sing a tune for you.
It shall be my joy
As it shall be your joy-
To sing of you for me:
The best of me is you.
poem by August Landing
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Escape
Paint on my cruel or happy face
I hide me behind it
It takes me inside another place where no-one can find it
Escape
I get out when I can
Escape
Anytime I can
Escape
I'm crying in my beer Escape
Just get me out of here
Don't get me wrong
Don't get me right
I'm not like you are
When I get home from work at night
I'm blacker and bluer
So I escape
I get out when I can
Escape
Anytime I can
Escape
I'm crying in my beer Escape
Just get me out of here
Where am I running to?
There's no place to go
Just put on my makeup and get me to the show
Yeah
Escape
My doctor said just come around
You'll be taken care of
And while he ran my problems down
I stole his mascara
That's how I escape
I get out when I can
Escape
Anytime I can
Escape
I'm crying in my beer Escape
Just get me out of here
Escape
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The escapes
Fight is an escape from fear.
Art is an escape from deprivation.
Love is an escape from perversion.
Ambition is an escape from sloth.
Goodness is an escape from depravity.
Life is an escape from death.
Every escape gives you relief
28.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Dog Days Of Summer
June arrived just yesterday, or so it
seemed to be. All that's left is one
more day, then June is history. July
can hardly wait to get here, it's almost
at our door. The days will get much
hotter, then it was the month before.
Just as we're getting used to July, it
too, will be on it's way. Around the
corner lies August, which can make
you rue, the day. If you think July was
hot, August is the worst by far. It's hard
to escape it's sweltering heat, no matter
who you are. You can take a dip in the
ocean, if you enjoy having a steam bath.
The water will never be cold, as August,
unleashes it wrath. Here it is, the
wonderful days of summer. Even though
we look forward to it, it can also be quite
a bummer!
poem by Audrey Heller
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Rivers Of Babylon
By the rivers of babylon
Where he sat down
And there he went
When he remebered zion.
For the wicked, carry us away
Captivity require from us a song
How can we sing king alphas song in a strange land?
So let the words of our mouth
And the meditations of our hearts
Be acceptable in thy sight
Over i
By the rivers of babylyon
Where he sat down
And there he went
When he remebered zion.
For the wicked, carry us away
Captivity require from us a song
How can we sing king alphas song in a strange land?
song performed by by Sublime
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Holocaust Song (August 6th, '45.)
8-15 Tuesday morning
a burning flash dissolved the skies,
death reigned without warning...
August 6th, '45.
In a lightning crash of frozen moment,
thousands were incinerated and scourged alive;
firewinds flayed through paper houses...
August 6th, '45.
People cauterized to the melting earth,
their scalding blood, their flesh that fried:
they were the lucky ones...
August 6th, '45.
Who put the horror in Hiroshima?
Who wrote shock on the human eye?
Who etched terror onto mankind's future
that August 6th, '45?
Across the warscape of that flattened city
women stumbled too numb to cry,
their skin pulped with boiling blisters...
August 6th, '45.
Lines of shuffling, staring figures
too stunned and sick to wonder why,
their faces shocked but past all panic...
August 6th, '45.
People peeled like red bananas,
those people lived but quickly died;
skin that hung like paper streamers...
August 6th, '45.
Who put the horror in Hiroshima?
Who permitted genocide?
Who sanctioned that mad disaster
on August 6th, '45.
Lurching beings like lifeless corpses
silhouette an ashen sky;
they wandered, abject, without purpose...
August 6th, '45.
Whose pride murdered Nagasaki?
Whose decision prepared the lies?
Were they doomed or just unlucky
that August day, '45?
Escape's denied to all survivors,
cancers haunt them till the day they die.
And their heirs will curse the craven authors
of August 6th, '45.
poem by David SmithWhite
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Into The Last Month Of Winter
Into the last month of Winter and the wattles cloaked in yellow flowers in bloom
And pink flowers on the camellias and yellow flowers on the broom
And all through the night the white backed magpies sing
On the third week of August coming up to the Spring
On the third week of August in the Southern Hemisphere
One does have a sense that Spring is quite near
The paddocks and parklands are looking quite green
And fragile pink flowers on the fruit trees are seen
Into the third week of August and birds sing in the rain
And all through the night frogs sing in pond and drain
And in the calm of the night in the parkland nearby
The breeding spur wing plovers in their territory cry
And all through the night on the moonlit gum trees
The songs of the magpies carry in the breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Autumn Is Coming
The autumn is coming,
The August is charming,
But the rain often darkens the sky,
And I know, you certainly love me
As I once long ago loved you.
Why the yearning
Is burning inside you?
Why are you so sad when with me?
Why in August the dreams
Can't be sweet as in spring?
The rowan is reddish
But not for the anguish
Rain drops knock at the window today
What a pity that some grievances
Can't be forgotten by loving hearts.
Not in vain
The yearning is burning,
Not in vain you are sad when with me
As in August the dreams are not real,
They come true in the earliest spring.
The autumn is coming,
The August is charming,
But the rain often darkens the sky,
And I know, you certainly love me
As I once long ago loved you.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 28th of August,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Incarceration
In the darkest corner, I hide,
afraid of my inner thoughts
that no one will ever hear.
My pen resists the urges to write them down
as misunderstood they would be.
Afraid the sins of my mind
will spill out to others too.
They remain trapped within
a tormented mind unable
to escape to fruition,
which is better that way.
Least there they cannot
tarnish other saintly minds.
Inside they must dwell
until my body decays
and my mind no longer
thinks of urges to play
on the innocent of heart.
27 August 2012
poem by David Harris
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Space Is Beautiful
i need not teach you
where to escape
the exit is always there
waiting for you
and from a distance
when the tremor of your
sad beginning is heard
once again
you must sing
to conceal what tragic
ending awaits you
i do not point
with my fingers where
you must be happy
you know it
it is always away from home
always it is
out there beyond us
as the chasm widens
we shall notice that space
is not emptiness at all
but beauty
unspoken.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Teach Me Not Because
teach me not
of hatred.my heart
cries for love true and pure
teach, me not of wars
my mind had not come across
what is meant of prison cells
i do not wish to chase white doves
and put them in a cage
die of hunger
i want them to live peacefully
freely...dance with the wind
rest on white clouds
for they are the keeper of peace
not just on earth but also in heaven.
teach me not
of isolation and despair
i want to live among men
care for their plight
sing for them the songs of the lark
and their dreams be of a place
where sadness is but a dream
and not a stark reality..
teach me not to hate silence
for it is a virtue and a medium
to know better the beats from within
for i know that noisines drives
away the goodnesss of the heart
and the beauty of the soul..
teach me not to hate
teach me not of wars
teach me not of despair
teach me not of isolation
but..
teach me how to appreciate peace
teach me how to love
teach me how to care
teach me how to share
because i only wanted
to be an instrument of peace
of love
of care
of compassion
of serenity
because
i am
a man
a loving creature
of....
God
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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Kundalini Rising
We have eleven planets—not nine
in December of 2012 they will all align.
kundalini in the planets will rise
also in humans to help actualize.
We will go into 10 dimensions not three
we will experience more in which to see.
A great time is at hand—
be more conscious and understand.
For the Light Workers will help lead the way
if we listen to them we will not stray.
Written by Christina Sunrise on August 25,2012
www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Teach Me How to Eat
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
More discipline I may be needing.
Teach me how to eat.
More seriousness I may yet miss.
Teach me how to eat.
No medications do I take,
To keep a pace that irritates.
No longer young with dumb ideals.
Teach me how to eat.
I wish a peace that keeps me feeding.
So teach me how to eat.
I see in you more than in some.
The ones who can not overcome.
I see some stumble as others run.
But you,
Know how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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