In the Ravages of War
From the ravages of war
Imminent
The soul of the country has gone
Languishing
But the man who after thirty years
In his Italian suit
And crocodile skin shoes
Who apparently talked sense
Who was neither the idealist
The revolutionary
The mad man of masses
Nor a poet
Who lived in mansions
Who reappeared again
Who put his documents
With his youthful photograph
Who had gone old now
Not much
Who wanted his Mercedes to be allowed
To be imported
Who was a tycoon of transit business
Who had grown his fortunes
In many other countries
Who was all smiles
Obedient
Who may have rescued
Some Lauras*
From their lovers
To safe heavens
Who offered his visiting card
To be kept
For rainy days
Who was the man
Who sold the world
Wisely
In the ravages of war
4/12/2009
*Laura: The epic heroine of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago.
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Related quotes
Lara
Doctor Zhivago (Russian) is a 1965 epic drama-romance-war film directed by David Lean and loosely based on the famous novel of the same name by Boris Pasternak. It has remained popular for decades, and as of 2010 is the eighth highest grossing film of all time in the United States, adjusted for inflation.
The film takes place mostly during 1912-1923, against a backdropp of World War I, the Russian Revolution and Russian Civil War, as the regime of Tsar Nicholas II is overthrown and the Soviet Union established. A narrative framing device, set in the late 1940s to early 1950s, involves KGB Lieutenant General Yevgraf Andreyevich Zhivago (Alec Guinness) searching for the illegitimate child of his half brother, doctor Yuri Andreyevich Zhivago (Omar Sharif) , and his mistress Larissa ('Lara') Antipova (Julie Christie) . Yevgraf believes a young woman working on a dam project, Tonya Komarovskaya (Rita Tushingham) may be his niece, and tells her the story of her father's life.
As the Mother Volga river runs to the Caspian Sea
My soul haunts Lara in the film Doctor Zhivago!
The biggest part of Russia, Siberia
The surface always frozen like Lara's heart?
I hear the fine theme song of Lara
And I search the missing book in my trunk
Boris Pasternak's longest prose.
Russian Alphabet is called Cyrillic
A man named Cyril is said to have invented it?
Anyway I think of Lenin, Trotsky, Dostoevsky
Tolstoy, Turgenev, Gogol and Pushkin.
And when I woke up in the morning
I found my grandson's picture book 'Russia' beside me
And I spoke to my Son-in-law
How about a Vodka tonight?
Spasiba!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Age Will Write Soul Into Face Eyes
passable beautiful is an admission
we age will not always look young
youth is a mask years time eroded
age will write soul into face eyes
true character in kind flesh smiles
hate anger ravages eats cruel faces
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Truth And Justice... (Part Five)
the facts that we've allowed
people around the world in
famine struck countries to
starve to death...
that the countries we do
business with imprison their
own people for speaking out
for justice...
that we send our young men
off to fight unholy wars, and
then bring them home to no
jobs and no homes...
that we dont teach our own children
respect....
that our system of justice is
bought and sold...
that we still judge human beings
by skin color and sex...
that we condemn our young people
to poverty and drugs...
are unforgivable!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Little Valentine
For years now I have lived alone
Since my marriage fell apart.
In theory we’ve joint custody
But that’s always how it starts.
I’m a salesman on the road
About thirty weeks a year..
My barkeep is the mini bar,
Room service makes my meals.
But I was in town for Valentines
And for my weekend with our girl
I took her to her favorite place
These days she’s my whole world.
All grown up at five years old
And learning not to cry..
She enjoyed the present that I brought
Cause I’m her special guy.
I’m careful not to criticize
her mom who’s now my Ex.
.She also is considerate
And I’m current with the checks.
We had a decent pasta meal
I wisely passed on wine.
As I enjoyed my night out on the town
With my little valentine.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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That's metaphysics, my dear fellow. It's forbidden me by my doctor, my stomach won't take it.
quote by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No bad man can be a good poet.
quote by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Japan is the only country in the world to have suffered the ravages of atomic bombing. That experience left an indelible mark on the hearts of our people, making them passionately determined to renounce all wars.
quote by Eisaku Sato
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Visiting Aunts
This is a memory from my childhood, when I was about Nine years old.
The visiting Aunts have come through the door,
They haven't been here for six months or more,
Their presence is such an incredible bore,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts are so out of date,
I soon noticed that when they came through the gate,
Their dresses date back to nineteen-o-eight,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts have kisses that smother,
With whiskery chins as one will discover,
Each one is just as bad as the other,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts look all around our place,
Tutting and waving their hands, so the lace
Which encircles their wrists shakes a pace,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are staying to tea,
They're both very fat and will eat more than me,
There'll be nothing left, just you wait and see,
I told you so!
The visiting Aunts they gossip away,
About this and that and 'not in our day',
They never will listen to what others say,
I really feel low!
The visiting Aunts say it's a disgrace,
The way I'm allowed to get dirt on my face,
And go running around with an undone shoelace,
Well, I can't tie a bow!
The visiting Aunts have had 'forty winks',
Mother had said they will go soon, she thinks,
They're both motionless like a couple of sphinx,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are off down the lane,
Thank goodness they've gone now, they're really a pain, .
I hope that they never visit again,
Please, days go slow!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Unique Days
How I remember solstice days
Through many winters long completed!
Each unrepeatable, unique,
And each one countless times repeated.
Of all these days, these only days,
When one rejoiced in the impression
That time had stopped, there grew in years
An unforgettable succession.
Each one of them I can evoke.
The year is to midwinter moving,
The roofs are dripping, roads are soaked,
And on the ice the sun is brooding.
Then lovers hastily are drawn
To one another, vague and dreaming,
And in the heat, upon a tree
The sweating nesting-box is steaming.
And sleepy clock-hands laze away
The clockface wearily ascending.
Eternal, endless is the day,
And the embrace is never-ending.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Michael Caine
Well get ya ya ya
Well get ya ya ya
(I am michael caine)
La la la la la la la la
Hes walking where Im afraid I dont know
I see the firemen jumping from the windows
Theres panic and I hear somebody scream
He picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket
Im trying very hard to keep my fingers clean
I cant remember tell me whats his name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
The sun is laughing its another broken morning
I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him
He didnt seem to hear just turned away
The quiet fellow follows
And points his finger straight at you
He had to sacrifice his pride, yes
And throw it all away
(I am micheal caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
His days are numbered he walks round and round in circles
There is no place he can ever call his own
He seems to jump at the sound of the phone
Staring out the window theres nothing he can now do
All he wanted was to remain sane
He cant remer hisemb own name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
All I wanted was a word or photograph
All I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world has suffered more from the ravages of ill-advised marriages than from virginity.
quote by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From A 3rd World Country
I lived in a 3rd world country
but that does not mean
i've got nothing to say
Coz we also grow in our own way
Third world countries
may be poor economically
but we excel in different abilities
plus we are also rich naturally
First world countries
may be hi in technolohies
but 3rd world countries
have hardworking employess
We even excel in different fileds
either in medical, singting or sports
as our nurses, singers or boxers
are demanding in all places
Though I didn't live in a 1st world
but I'm proud to be in a 3rd world
bec. it is the only place
where i feel a belongingness
poem by hikarU sHenitsUa
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Pa did not like a country so old and worn out that the hunting was poor. He wanted to go west. For two years he had wanted to go west and take a homestead, but Ma did not want to leave the settled country.
quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As You Stare Right Through Me
Love is an illusion, a myth,
Its all compromises I shouted,
I have had my chances with love,
This heart ain't falling for anyone again,
Love is an illusion, a myth.
Its easy to break hearts,
Hearts of stone or hearts of broken glass,
The poet nurses all his wounds in silence,
But poetry flows out unabated,
The emotions need a release after all
I shout in the silence of the times,
The emptiness of dark nights,
Railing against the travesty of life,
That yet again I fall for someone,
A someone who stares right through me
I immortalize you through poetry,
Yet broken verses reveal no names,
And as you smile at the world,
I just keep gazing at you,
As I can't see anyone prettier around.
If you could be mine,
I would walk along till the end of time,
Make you the heroine of epic tales,
Partner in stories of legendary fun,
Lazy days, busy days, rainy days, sunny days
But you are also the heart breaker,
Pretending not to see the obvious,
When I hang onto every word you say,
For the most painful thing is seeing you,
Oblivious as you stare right through me,
Like I am a ghost who isn't even there.
poem by Ashraf Husain
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My Next Thirty Years
(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kenny The Crocodile
A crocodile that lived with many
who everyone knew as Kenny
was shunned by all the others
including his sisters and brothers.
Now Kenny was not one to really care
that his natural stench filled the air.
He thought it totally unnecessary and futile
that they should shun a brother crocodile.
He was forced to leave the muddy pool,
by the long nosed elders who did rule.
After walking and jogging for several days
he rested in the jungle and began to laze.
A keen eyed crocodile hunter close by
espied Kenny out of his one good eye.
He took careful aim and fired his rifle,
expecting Kenny to get an eyeful.
But Kenny rolled over towards the sun,
as the hunter again fired his gun.
He missed again as Kenny charged
at the hunter and his entourage.
Alas poor Kenny fell for a very old trick
and plunged into the hunter’s pit.
When soundly dead the natives jumped in
and relieved him of his valuable skin.
All over the world his patterned skin is bought
by those who give him not a thought.
I wonder if he thought, was it really worthwhile
being born a smelly crocodile.
poem by Orlando Belo
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War Vets Dream
When he came from Nam he had a plan
That not many people would understand.
To help children see that not all in life
Was destruction and poverty.
With death and bombings all around
All he could hear was the children s sounds.
With tears in their eyes and not understanding why
Why so many bodies on the ground
And not a one making a sound.
All he could see was these faces of despair
Children did not understand and could not care.
These visions of the war would
always stay in his mind
From that day forward till the end of time.
He vowed that he would do all that he can
To help all children and his fellow man.
When you see the ravages of war
And a country torn apart
And its people scattered
Then staying alive is all that matters.
He knew that he could not stop this genocide
But he knew for the future children he had to try.
He wanted to create a place called “children s world”
A safe haven for every boy and girl.
A place where children could be children
And war they would not see.
Where they could be with friends and their families.
A place with a roof over their heads
Hot food and a bed.
He knows with time this dream will come true
“It just depends on people like you.”
poem by Louis Rams
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The Suit
The Suit
After the surgery my son come visiting
he had brought a dark suit along, hung
it in my wardrobe, said he had brought
it along in case we went to a party.
A fortnight later he flew back home but
left the suit behind so he didn’t have
to bring one next time he came visiting.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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It is no longer possible for lyric poetry to express the immensity of our experience. Life has grown too cumbersome, too complicated. We have acquired values which are best expressed in prose.
quote by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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