Think For Things
greed you think of things
alas things degenerate
greed you think less of others
alas you tinker with things
greed you think less with sense
alas you kill your neighbour
gree you abhor with your thoughts
alas you make cultures perish
greed you are embodiment of evil
alas unsatiable are are your wants
poem by Venkatesh Ram
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Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field
Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field;
Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield,
And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.
Ay me, ay me, that life can not have lasting leave,
Nor gold take hold of everlasting joy:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that time hath talents to receive,
And yet no time can make a suer stay.
Ay me, ay me, that wit can not have wished choice,
Nor wish can win that will desires to see:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that mirth can promise no rejoice,
Nor study tell what afterward shall be.
Ay me, ay me, that no sure staff is given to age,
Nor age can give sure wit that youth will take:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that no counsel wise and sage
Will shun the show that all doth mar and make.
Ay me, ay me, come, Time, shear on and shake thy hay,
It is no boot to balk thy bitter blows:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, come, Time, take everything away,
For all is thine, be it good or bad, that grows.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Corn Grinders
O little mouse, why dost thou cry
While merry stars laugh in the sky?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will ease my bitter pain?
He went to seek a millet-grain
In the rich farmer's granary shed;
They caught him in a baited snare,
And slew my lover unaware:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little deer, why dost thou moan,
Hid in thy forest-bower alone?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah! who will quiet my lament?
At fall of eventide he went
To drink beside the river-head;
A waiting hunter threw his dart,
And struck my lover through the heart.
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little bride, why dost thou weep
With all the happy world asleep?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will stay these hungry tears,
Or still the want of famished years,
And crown with love my marriage-bed?
My soul burns with the quenchless fire
That lit my lover's funeral pyre:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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A Friend's Song for Simoisius
The breath of dew, and twilight's grace,
Be on the lonely battle-place;
And to so young, so kind a face,
The long, protecting grasses cling!
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
In rocky hollows cool and deep,
The bees our boyhood hunted sleep;
The early moon from Ida's steep
Comes to the empty wrestling-ring.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
Upon the widowed wind recede
No echoes of the shepherd's reed,
And children without laughter lead
The war-horse to the watering.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
Thou stranger Ajax Telamon!
What to the loveliest hast thou done,
That ne'er with him a maid may run
Across the marigolds in spring?
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
With footstep separate and slow
The father and the mother go,
Not now upon an urn they know
To mingle tears for comforting.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
The world to me has nothing dear
Beyond the namesake river here:
O Simois is wild and clear!
And to his brink my heart I bring;
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
My heart no more, if that might be
Would stay his waters from the sea,
To cover Troy, to cover me,
To save us from the perishing.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
poem by Louise Imogen Guiney
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Alas, Love, Alas
And now i'm dismissed
I don't know what the love is
If there always will be tears
And the souls never will find the peace
Why the lovers had became so cruel and insensible
Who can bear all these
Are these the new rules of the love?
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, love, Alas
If the humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Nothing in this world will stay the same
Alas, world, Alas
Step back my soul
let's live in peace alone
While the meaning of real love is missed
How the world can be so unreal
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, Love, Alas
If the Humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Alas, world, Alas
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Alas my Rose
Alas my rose
Stole my youth years
I love the hands were
Happened to me does not smell roses
Alas Alas rose my rose
I do not know my carpet what happens when
I've been nomadic cranes
I had ants on the road
I remember one dear
Alas Alas rose rose
Did not hurt me cruel...
Weird strange world
I got called in Konya
Shabby wrote my tag
Oh, my dear rose rose
Was not keep my hands, slice..
İnce waist, did not hold
friend not formed into the hands of
I do not get Muradiye
Rose Alas, alas rose
My arm was broken wings..
sabit ince Kayseri 05/10/2012
poem by Sabit Ince
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The Story
They met each other in the glade –
She lifted up her eyes;
Alack the day! Alack the maid!
She blushed in swift surprise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from lifting up the eyes.
The pail was full, the path was steep –
He reached to her his hand;
She felt her warm young pulses leap,
But did not understand.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from clasping hand with hand.
She sat beside him in the wood –
He wooed with words and sighs;
Ah! love in spring seems sweet and good,
And maidens are not wise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from listing lovers’ sighs.
The summer sun shone fairly down,
The wind blew from the south;
As his blue eyes gazed in eyes of brown,
His kiss fell on her mouth.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from kisses on the mouth.
And now the autumn time is near,
The lover roves away,
With breaking heart and falling tear,
She sits the livelong day.
Alas! Alas! for breaking hearts when lovers rove away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Humanity Have Got Lost
Mosques are ruined
Churches destroyed
Castles, thousands and thousands years lasting a huge culture ruined destroyed Ah for the sake of human being greed
Alas for what are all these harmful deeds
When the humanity will find a little bit peace
As long as within hearts the brutality for the sake of stillness will survive
As long as the insensibly of human being will allow him to harm his fellow man for a bit of bread
As long as the pities are frozen to kill innocent children
Ah those innocent kids their hunger and their poor tears never will find an end
Ah those bloody tears of poor mothers when will find an end
Alas my fellow man as long as you don't have a pity
As long as the brutally of your heart allows you to kill your fellow man
The peace is lost
Alas humanity have got lost.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Greed is Good
“Greed is good! ” they say
Some say “Greed is great! ”
Will they say that when the masses
Are bashing down their gate?
Will they still pray to their god ‘Greed’
When they find that it’s too late?
All the starving children
They don’t think greed is good
They would rather have each day
A sufficiency of food
All the freezing homeless
How great is greed to those?
A bit of tin to shelter in
Would please them (I suppose)
What good is greed to anyone
When it is served with hate?
I’d rather have a shred of humanity
Sitting on my plate
poem by Neil Milliner
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Some Greed Is The Blood.
Alas! there are some
To whom the eyes are waste,
To some the tongue a viper,
To some limbs a vice!
O God! why such cruel creations?
Why in so many the heart is absent
And greed is the blood?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Blessed...
Before you,
Ive had thoughts of just going..
Leaving without a sound..
Thinkin, this is what I want.
& its make everything better.
I felt unsafe in my own skin,
I wanna get out,
and never go bak in.
insecure,
and hopeless.
Somehow,
I've met you.
you give me something to look forward to.
I stopped with the thoughts.
I realized what the world is all bout.
the greed of us all,
that drags us down.
Well, I dont greed,
not for money,
not for fame.
Not for anything.
But I must say..
I greed too..
I greed for one thing..
I want you.
you make me feel safe,
whenever I hear the sound of your voice.
you calm me without knowin.
& the way you love,
Its amazing.
I am blessed,
I am yours..
Will you be mines?
poem by Dislocated Heart
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The audacity to hope
I once had dared to hope
For things I now abhor
I had once impudently nursed the hope
Where I had never dared to hope before
I had hoped for sunshine and smiles
And a reprieve from the incessant rain
But the calm before the storm tricked me and transfixed me
And now I daren’t hope for them again
I had hoped for a shelter from the tempest
A haven for my sustenance alone
And perhaps a gallant man, to forever hold my hand
But all I have now is a heart of stone
I had hoped for something to melt the boulder
That lay heavily in my chest to seethe
Some fanciful turn of fate or magical golden gate
But hope for wretched is akin to the sin of greed
Alas, I am eternally alone in my melancholy
From goodness and desires my soul does abstain
I once had the audacity to hope for things beyond my scope
But I will have such hope never again
poem by Samah Khan
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The Need And The Greed
Need is a desire; greed is a desire.
Desires denied, sufferings surface.
Need is met at ease but not the greed
Which is boundless with sufferings profound.
Need and greed aren’t in water tight cells.
Need might restrict to physical wants.
Greed is for ego’s gratification.
Possessiveness is the sign of the greed.
To earn by wrongful means is from greed.
To exploit and hoard is an act of greed.
To garner and flaunt all you have is greed.
Greedless, though penny-less, you’re loveable.
To sedate the pride is to tame the greed.
To kindle the pride is to fuel the greed.
Having got money, power and possession,
As the result of greed, you will lose peace.
Remove the greed; jealousy is gone.
Remove the greed; no feeling of revenge.
Hail the poor and condemn the greedy.
Then the tendency to grow rich will wane.
Live simple; live humble; then need is less.
Be proud to own a bicycle, not a car.
Value one who owns a bicycle, not a car.
You will have saved energy and the nature.
Don’t embrace comforts, which will weaken you.
Don’t enthuse with ego, which will make loss big.
Unlike the cheat, being poor is not a shame.
Less wants; less sufferings, more happiness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Greed
Where there is a need
There is always greed
A rotten exploiting deed
That manifests with speed
When there are mouths to feed
Read between the lines and take heed!
Lurking around is an Inspiring greed
Ready to take advantage and proceed
Even when there is no need to succeed
By now it is agreed, there is always greed
Our desire for more always exceeds our needs
Hence wealth, power and greed have always been married
We always want more
Sometimes I don't know what for
I read to understand what generation of breed
Has given birth to this senseless weed
Because life is a circle of endless greed
I urgently need to know, I plead
Who planted this seed of greed to deliberately mislead?
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Tender Buttons [Chicken]
CHICKEN.
Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third.
CHICKEN.
Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird.
CHICKEN.
Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Why. Potato. Loaves.
CHICKEN.
Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Alas
Alas, I fell for your words
For your tongue, for your verse
How it hurts
How it hurts that I fell for your words
Ambiguous
Easily versed
Mysterious
Can’t get much worse
Don’t ever start with ‘alas’
It’s crass
Alas, its passed
I'm done.
At last.
poem by Peggy Pollock
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Alas, A Bard’s a Bruised Reed!
They make me mad- some people, known/ unknown;
They make me sad- their wiliness / ego;
They’re after money’s comfort on this earth!
Sense/ common-sense are things that’re a dearth.
They know how poets have suffered in life!
They know how poets land in utter strife!
They stay unmoved/ inert- husband or wife:
They wound my heart with words akin a knife.
Oh how I wish I should be, never me!
Oh how I wish I were akin to them;
Yet, I can’t simply change: I’m thus destined;
To Poesy must Bards always well bind.
Poetry isn’t something that pays at once;
It isn’t something that gives plenty returns;
A Poet seeks the truth without/ within;
And Truth is God: God abhors only sin!
Being like earthlings is not always right;
The destiny of world, poets do fight;
Most Bards cannot be dishonest, may be;
Their minds are fixed to Eternity.
And if they change, could they God realize?
Good Bards prefer to be always soul-wise;
And like a phoenix die, again arise;
And show the world to be heavenly-wise!
Oh, one can’t take me for an easy ride;
I can’t my emotions and passions hide;
I can’t live on with ego great and pride;
My thoughts to be aright, God helps decide.
The superfluous from the thing that’s deep;
The virtual/ surreal from real;
The transient from what is permanent;
God help me to know and my soul to keep.
Alas, a Poet is a bruised reed!
His works on earth are immortal indeed;
His heart of love is uniquely his creed;
His mind wants peace and never yearns for greed!
Alas, a Bard’s a bruised reed!
poem by John Celes
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The Shadow
THERE is a shadow on the sunny wall,
Dark and forbidding, like a bode of ill;
Go, drive it thence. Alas, such shadows fall
From real things, nor may be moved at will.
There is a shadow on my heart to-day,
A cloudy grief condensing to a tear:
Alas, I cannot drive its gloom away—
Some sin or sorrow casts the shapeless fear.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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What Made The Success Of The Swindler?
in the last analysis
it was not his gullibility
because it could have been so well learned
and the swindling avoided
as early as possible,
frankly speaking
it was his greed, and nothing but his greed,
which made the
swindlers have the last laugh
greed allows
everyone to come and
take everything
everything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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