Let my day be good-well
Let my day be good-well
Shiva, good news would you tell
enemies are poisonous tree you fell
to my sufferings, sound death knell
all my efforts, success you spell
poem by Elangovan Selvapperumal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Heart is Shiva's seat!
My heart is Shiva's seat
Shiva is my heart-beat
see my efforts success meet
I surrender to Shiva's feet
my enemies, Thrisool will beat
Shiva arranges my life neat
poem by Elangovan Selvapperumal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good News
Something to begin with
That's easy said than done
You'll see me rolling home
But I don't understand why
Still there's nothing at all
Time is on my side
But we mustn't let our disappointment show
But I will, and you will go on
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (just some good news)
To put me on my feet (to put me on my feet)
To put me at my ease (at my ease)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (just gimme me some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (all I need is good news)
To put me on my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news
[Repeat to fade
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Sufferings- the Key to Life
Through sufferings, we are born to lead this life;
Through sufferings, we are even baptized;
Through sufferings, we all must meet our strife;
Through sufferings, we’re even magnetized.
Through sufferings, sometimes we have our joy!
Through sufferings, we earn our livelihood;
Through sufferings, we grew to man from boy;
And sufferings’ our teacher from childhood!
Through sufferings, we learn in life good things;
Through sufferings, we learn to live well, pray!
Through sufferings, big truths, this world us brings;
By sufferings, we fight ‘gainst Tempter’s ways.
Yet, sufferings- a blessing God us gave,
To keep the road to Heaven, well behave!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Kingdom Of God
Both good and bad species of trees has earth;
Good ones bear flowers/fruits right from their birth;
The bad ones have big thorns and poisonous spikes,
And give no shade and so master dislikes.
If your garden contains one such bad tree,
And birds can’t built their nests nor perch afree,
What will the master of the garden do?
The rear both the good one and bad too?
He’ll cut the bad tree surely into bits,
And throw them into fire in large pits,
And far away from any dwelling place,
For fear of poisonous wood-smoke, in case.
God’s Kingdom appears in a similar way!
The impure souls can’t enter any day.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bilva
Older than history, more than legendary
Story of utile Bilva tree
Tree of heavens sourced for a pedigree
Born to Mahalakshmi by a divine decree
Supernal aptly and soundly medicinal
Serving healthful tree whole inspirational
Alchemy of Shiva in glowing, possessional
Elixir of life ritually flowing, rational
Practised spirit by side of Mercury Linga
Sure the mind gets set on Shiva
No wonder is magical trifoliate of Bilva
Silvering us by worship of it to Shiva
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poisonous Land.
Asked Your heavenly treasures,
Asked for a right licensed,
Asked simply your birth right,
Your license its mean - to have mixed,
Mixed with specialties of different kinds,
Possibly, known and known.
Poisonous land,
Precious indeed,
Poisonous land,
Holy Indeed,
Poisonous Land,
Beauty Indeed,
Poisonous Land.
I pray for good food,
Good food at morning hour,
Good Food at noon hour,
Good food at night hour,
Even at midnight hour,
I pray for divine cleanness,
I pray for holy spirit...
Poisonous land,
Precious indeed,
That's you are!
Heavy to deliver,
Night be deadly,
Night be an horrors' beauty,
For dogs does not bark for nothing,
Must stated and a statement!
Poisonous land.....
Light definitely ablaze darkness,
Despite snow white and blood red still,
Brevity a watch word,
An assignment,
Poisonous land,
I pray for deliverance,
I pray for divine light,
Poisonous land.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good To Me
Got an 84 ford to get me home
I get in, start up, and go
it's not a vintage cadillac
but it'll always get me there and back
Always be...Good to me
Always be...Good to me
Always be...Good to meeeee
I got a beat up cruddy amp
I plug it in and it sounds like a champ
It's not a Fender Tweed Deluxe
It only cost me a couple of bucks
And it'll...always sound...good to me.
...always sound...good to me...
always sound...good to me...
...always sound...good to meee.
I got a girl and she's so true
no other kinda girl will do
she's not like the girls from the past
And I knew none of them would last
always be good to me(x7)
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chronicles Of A Day Stranded In Nature Part 2 Ground Zero
Shells exploding all around
Only one audible sound...
The sound... the booming sound of war
Not clashes of swords, praised in ancient lore
No i talk about the exchange of gunfire
One side shooting the other sometimes not knowing why
They know only what told. Whether it be from a liar
Or porpagand, they can't tell al they know is die
Either die or kill
March up this hill
Fight, shoot, reload, shoot again, kill, hear
the screams of allies and enemies together, who shed more than a tear
Allies and enemies dotted with blood
Death in their faces
When each side goes to pick up their own
Not one man can tell apart races
Enemies and foes and allies and fellows all
dead... all alike, not a man can tell
One bloodied body from another, no more fell
Is there no mercy... none, not in war
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Knell Of Our Love
The things we all wished for,
The storm came and take away,
Was it the work of nature,
Or maybe the schemes of your hands,
Such insinuations thwarted everything,
Im a man gathering confidence,
Let the elders ring the knell
The war I thought I could fight,
Yet the pain I couldnt sustain,
To be so adamant in all undertakings,
Blinded by my own surreal thoughts,
I have gathered my boldness,
Let the elders ring the knell of our love
I couldnt bring the stars for you,
But I could talk the stars for you,
To always see none like you,
But to receive you gave a few,
I waited in the long queue,
I have accepted its passed and through,
Hear the sound of copper bells,
The elders ringing death knells
Death is an enemy to us,
Yet life was painful to me,
Such our love unto life life,
Better the death of a warrior,
Than the life of a slave,
Elders I seek thee,
Sound the death knell I beg
The fall of my heart before your feet,
The memories so shall you recall,
The days of the long poems,
The months of the good love,
The night of the Judas kiss,
I forgive you for the faake promises,
You were bound to deceive me,
Yet I was bound to love you,
Now the books should be closed,
The hammer should hit the ground,
Elders silence the failing love,
Let the knells ring aloud
The birds should fly and fly,
When we will cry and cry,
This love will die and die,
The transition shall be evident,
I cant walk a mile,
While you stand and smile,
I choose the knell,
Hear my call you elders
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowing Of A Tree
It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good News
Beautiful are the feet of those who bring the Good News of Salvation,
The Good News is not just for the few, but for each and every nation.
The Good News is that Jesus died, was buried, and that He rose again,
Christ did all this because you and I are wicked sinners my friend.
The restoration of fellowship with God is at the heart of Salvation,
As Jesus' primary purpose was to redeem the Jewel of God's creation.
The importance of man in the eyes of God can be easily understood,
For on the day He created man, He saw all and said it was very good.
But the perfect fellowship at the start by Satan's design fell apart,
For by subtlety deceiving Eve, that liar had corrupted man's heart.
That is why God's Only Gospel must be expounded by all believers,
That Christ died, was buried, and raised according to the Scriptures.
Christ who had no sin, had to die to pay sin's price for you and me,
And we too, must crucify ourselves on the cross to truly be set free.
Jesus' body used to bear our sin, was buried never to be seen again,
And after being saved, our sinful nature shouldn't be seen my friend.
After Jesus rose that day, His Glorified Body was restored my friend,
And we will be like Him my friend, when we too are raised at the end.
The Good News for believers is that when we hear that trumpet sound,
We will be changed and caught up with the Lord and be Heaven bound.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.
O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good News- Bad News
Bad news-I am driving along and a car is bearing down me from the rear.
It keeps coming.
Bad news-The car hits my little car at 60 miles an hour-bam!
Good news-I keep control of the car for a second or two
then the car begins to skid.
Bad news-The car skids, swerves and overturns, flipping, flipping.
The world outside the wind shield revolves upside down.
Bad news-Things go blank and I see water coming into the car;
I had landed in the river.
Good news-I am sinking but not yet under water.
Bad news- The water starts to come in faster and faster.
Bad news- The water keeps coming in the car. It is sinking.
It is over my head.
I am drowning.
Bad news- I hold my breath for 30 seconds and decide that I will die here.
I regret that it has to be in the mud and silt of the river. Undignified. I take a deep breath ready to go.
Good news, The car suddenly bobs to the surface from an air bubble
inside just as I take that breath.
Bad news-I look around and notice that the car is sinking again
this time even faster.
Bad news- I look around to try to open a door. But the door won't open.
Good news- I hear voices above. Someone saw me go in.
Bad news- The water is rising so fast I am sure they won't get me in time.
Bad news- I bang on the wind shield but it does not break
Good news- Someone from the outside breaks the wind shield and asks
if I can get out.
Bad news- I drag myself out over the cut glass-
blood in the water, gasoline and mud.,
Good news-Outside, there are men with a floating flat board and they float me to the shore.
Bad news-They ask me who is President and what is today's date.
And they are my rescuers, I think, and don't know this stuff?
Good news- The helicopter air-lifts me to the hospital with broken ribs, eye
smashed, blood everywhere.
Good news- I recover and can't get a cigarette and thereafter quit for good
as a way of thanking God that I lived.
Bad news- Broken ribs lead to pleurisy and later pneumonia.
Good news- I recover.
Good news-People at work give me a snorkel for my birthday; lol.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Missed opportunities
Once opportunity missed means gone out of hand
Work remains undone as promised by friend
They are all missed and gone forever,
Will not come back again and lost for ever
Have you ever tried for bright carrier and success?
Constant thrust and work without any recess,
New avenues, areas and seeking complete access,
With calculated move without making excess,
Perfect seeding with good and honest intention
Sides all secured with full prevention,
Zeal coupled with enthusiasm for bright future,
Taking utmost care for ideas to nurture,
Never suffered a set back or even failure
Plugging all loop holes and making it sure
If today is missed then let it not tomorrow,
Happiness and joy on face not reflecting sorrow,
One step forward with two steps backward,
Journey should go on with aim forward,
No hurdles should block or make us to leave
Always look beyond………………….
Believe in self and work with own hands,
Never put blind faith even in friends,
May be not good but prove at the end,
Sufferings to be undergone with simple amends,
Today's work may not pave the way,
Bright future should have complete say,
Friends brought near and foe kept away,
Success to wed and failure not in pray,
There is no use crying over split milk,
If cotton is in store then why cry for silk?
Only concerted efforts with dedicated approach,
Why we need advice and lessons from coach?
Have a sense of good humour for good or bad,
Not to laugh at success and at failure not sad,
Uniform dealing at matters with determined will,
Success may lie at your feet but destiny not still
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O death, rock me on sleep
O death! rock me on sleep,
Bring me on quiet rest;
Yet pass my guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast:
Toll on the passing bell,
Ring out the doleful knell,
Let the sound of my death tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy,
For now I die.
My pains who can express?
Alas! they are so strong,
My dolor will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.
Alone, in prison strong,
I wail my destiny,
Wo worth this cruel hap that I
Should taste this misery:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.
Farewell my pleasures past,
Welcome my present pain;
I feel my torments so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now the passing bell,
Rung is my doleful knell,
For the sound my death doth tell,
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound my end dolefully,
For now I die.
poem by Anne Boleyn (1536)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Not All Good People
Good people are celebrated and good people are in jail
And we condemn good people by our own words to fail
And since people are not the best judges of character it would be fair to say
That the best candidate does not always get elected on Election Day.
Not all good people as some believe are destined to die young
And many good people as we know their praises are unsung
And in a World of billions of human beings the good outnumber the bad
And that not many are recognized for their true worth does seem a little sad.
Not all good people are in the Newspapers or are ever in the news
And on what they think is fair and right are never asked for their views
Many are the quite achievers of publicity quite shy
Why the egotistical can become successful I often wonder why?
Not all good people are leaders though by good example they do lead
Though all good people are happy with enough and they never yield to greed
And though there are billions of good people in the bigger World out there
The good who make the news headlines to say the least seem rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before Exile
HERE is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
Good-bye! good-bye! good-bye!
Love me, remember me.
This is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
I bless, I pledge, I cling,
Love me, remember me.
This is my last good-bye
To each dear tree,
To every silent plain,
Love me, remember me.
This is my last good-bye,
This side the sea.
O friends! O enemies!
Love me, remember me.
You will remain, but I
Must cross the sea.
My heart is faint with love,
O Land! remember me.
You will not even ask
What claim has she.
She loved us, she has gone…
’Tis all, remember me.
This is what you will say,
My Land across the sea,
She was of us, has gone…
And you’ll remember me.
Here is my last good-bye
This side the sea.
Farewell! and when you can,
Love me, remember me.
poem by Louise Mack
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Liberation
I said, yes I’d like to be my real self
and yes I’d like to realise that I, er, am.. I think..
but when I see the word self-realisation
I reach for the ego in my holster..
right between the eyes. One shot. No mess.
he said, will you settle for liberation?
I said yes, that’s fine
he said well if that’s what you’re looking for,
there’s some bad news and some good news
the bad news is that the person that you think you are
will never find Liberation
the good news is that who you really are
has never known anything but freedom...
*
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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