Where's Billy Idol When You Need Him? !
Without an idol on his vacant pedestal,
the child is doomed to repeat history!
poem by Michael Fischer
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Dont Stop For No-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat 3 times)
One day my father said to me
its time for you to leave,
But dont wait for me, its pre-destiny
Dont wait around for someone to believe in
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Just like moses waiting on the mountain
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont hang around in the babylonian gardens
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) tourist attraction
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat)
Sometimes I told I must confess
To a life of tenderness
But I just repeat what he said to me:
dont close your eyes because seeing is believing
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) child, fighting for a meaning
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont dream too long, its time to awake now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Like sleeping lucy waiting for a kiss now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
I think you know the way its gonna go now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
From aztech kings to new york queens
And then it goes on
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Refugees
In the shabby train no seat is vacant.
The child in the ripped mask
Sprawls undisturbed in the waste
Of the smashed compartment. Is their calm extravagant?
They had faces and lives like you. What was it they possessed
That they were willing to trade for this?
The dried blood sparkles along the mask
Of the child who yesterday possessed
A country welcomer than this.
Did he? All night into the waste
The train moves silently. The faces are vacant.
Have none of them found the cost extravagant?
How could they? They gave what they possessed.
Here all the purses are vacant.
And what else could satisfy the extravagant
Tears and wish of the child but this?
Impose its canceling terrible mask
On the days and faces and lives they waste?
What else are their lives but a journey to the vacant
Satisfaction of death? And the mask
They wear tonight through their waste
Is death's rehearsal. Is it really extravagant
To read in their faces: What is there we possessed
That we were unwilling to trade for this?
poem by Randall Jarrell
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THIS IS OUR WORLD! ! (SHOCKING n EXPLICIT)
Where a child lives in a warm mother's cocoon
Where a child is sold to the prostitutes, her life doomed
Where a father fiercely protects his child
Yet another father enters another's child
Where children play without any fear
Where men enter boys through the rear
Where a child gets a new toy every day
Where a child becomes a toy near the bay
Where a child is whooped up and twirled
Where a child is forced down and hurled
Where they go to fancy schools, sing and play
Where for a single meal, they sweat and labour all day
poem by Renu Rakheja
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Vacant Space
this is the vacant space
of my room, you may come
this is the vacant hour
you may barge and talk simply talk
this is the vacant lot of my being
you may build your home
this is vacant
fill it with space, drag your hours here,
start watering the roses in your garden
beside your house
this is a vacant hole in my ear
talk simply talk
i am always listening
this is my vacant line, please fill in the missing
word
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Idolatory
idolatory
many commit it
even without a trace
of an idol
for in their heart
god has become
an idol itself
day in and day out
they pray
to him for favours
and when
they are not forthcoming
god is put
in a corner
of the heart
unfit even for idols
- forgotten
and loathed
- as they look
to another idol
for favours
the devil
sure knows
the best place
to make an idol
out of god
Lot is one in
a trillion
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Burning Photographs
I finally see the light
Down on the east side
Wasted like a memory
If I had a car I'd drive
Straight off the bridge into the river, it would empty me
Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad
Now I'm just bored with you
You're doomed to repeat the past
'Cause nothing is gonna last
I burned all of your photographs
Traffic sings the songs
Inviting me in to dodge the bullets from an empty gun
If I had a car I'd drive straight into the window of a bank I owed money to
Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad
Now I'm just bored with you
You're doomed to repeat the past
'Cause nothing is gonna last
I burned all of your photographs
And all the time you're so unhappy
And everything to you's so heavy
But oh my word, ain't you pretty now
There's nothing to make up now
No one to wake up now
She's starting to break up
WOW
Pretty pictures in a magazine
Everybody is so make believe, it's true
I used to be sad
Now I'm just bored with you
You're doomed to repeat the past
'Cause nothing is gonna last
I burned all of your photographs
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anything You Ask For
Anything you ask for
Is not with me.
A pity!
Anything you ask for
Is with none at all, I affirm.
A fact indeed!
But you ask for it ever
And I show my blank face.
I am doomed.
In the annals of history
You may get my story printed in big letters
As one who gave you nothing you asked for.
I am planning to go to the Mars
Where none will ask for anything.
There I shall live for ever.
From the skies of the Mars
A flash reaches my very soul of fears
That you will be there too.
I shall ever be doomed
As I can never give you anything you ask for.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Should I Wish To Just Sit On a Pedestal?
To sit on pedestals,
May be heights some wish to achieve.
But as for me...
Why should I place such limits on myself?
Isn't the Universe boundless?
And we are gifted to live on an Earth,
Suspended as it spins.
With only the force of gravity,
To keep it mysteriously positioned.
Why should I wish to just sit on a pedestal?
There is something far greater than that,
I am a part of and desire to explore.
Too many miracles surround me,
I witness being produced.
And I would choose just to sit on a pedestal?
That may be what 'you' choose to do.
But I've got my sights on STARS!
With a blazing done in all of this Cosmic wonder.
Why should I wish to just sit on a pedestal?
Are you kidding?
With all that I envision going on?
Comeon, let's get real here!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was writing a chapter of Beautiful Evidence on the subject of the sculptural pedestal, which led to my thinking about what's up on the pedestal - the great leader.
quote by Edward Tufte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lime of a new Beginning
each has its own time, to believe of what is tomorrow
to live, a turning point of one's own beginning where, God
the most high respected the outcome, for it is the only honor
of your humble respect
lost in the dark, waited the dawn to shine, the
unwavering butterfly wish to touch the magnefico of
the sweet petal, humming like bees in the celebrity of great
feast day in the honey comb where, everybody sleep the
tenderness of night and enjoy the full of memory of
happiness
the meaning, the answer of every dream; the bits and
pieces of what is today, the lime of every drink that free us
from a great surrender of one's call, to pursue, even it hurt
to the wish of uncertain end, as the elements of any courage,
to forward each fate with out faith in sanctity of an angel of
light, the hope that begin with no illusion of what was the
past
you may be not the styles idol of the house, but the
pedestal of the wall that brings the house to become a home,
make the best for you for what last forever is the years
together, the past of today that leads the way to lay your
bottomless heart in every moment of countless days gone
by
let the battle begin, my heart is open and my hand waited to
bring my empty shield to the pedestal of your honest love,
await my humble soul to hold the victory, of your prize, for
winning is the beginning of achieving the flame of history
with you....i will
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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History
History is sad.
It makes me mad
that we have learned nothing.
History is the past.
It goes so fast
and still we have learned nothing.
Today's not history
and so it's a mystery
why we repeat the same old nothing?
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Long
climb on top of all you despise
it's a better view from the lies
two steps behind before I've begun
time stops to tell me all I could have done
and I'll say
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long will it take
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
I'd rather be wrong than be deceived
to thinking that I believe
that I can stand to be here on my own
there's too many questions that we won't ask
in hopes that this too will pass
but how far down do we have to go before we know it
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long will it take
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
how long
how long
how long will it take
how long
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
how long
how long
how long will it take
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long till the words fall to the pages
how many times till all we can say is save us
song performed by by Lifehouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History
The history will go on repeating...
until man has learn from it.
Perhaps...
then there will be no man
to repeat the history!
poem by Denny M.X.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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History does not repeat itself except in the minds of those who do not know history.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The history of man is the history of crimes, and history can repeat. So information is a defence. Through this we can build, we must build, a defence against repetition.
quote by Simon Wiesenthal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep distance for grace
Just grant audience.
He sees you on a peak.
Just throw a glance.
He sees you on a desk.
When access is granted
He sees you on a pedestal.
By physical intimacy,
You fall on floor, equal.
Woman, try to be on pedestal, the least.
18.08.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Starry Eyes
When she laughs
Shes got the power of a child in her eyes
And when you cry now
Shell hold you like a mans supposed to be held
I cant get into words how I feel
Get it right in this song now
I had to set her free
Needed a friend
Come back to me
Oh starry eyes
Oh, oh (repeat)
Standing alone in the light
You could see her cry
With a smile and a wink
And a sparkle in her eyes
She calmly sighed, I will be alright
Okay child youve had to take the pain
Of a man in the streets
You gotta let me in
Needed a friend
Even just for one night
Oh, starry eyes
Oh, oh (repeat)
Oh no, oh no, oh no
Oh, starry eyes
Oh, oh (repeat)
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History why do we care
History
a famous person dies
History
a war rages
History
a new invention
History
a building opens
History
what happens if something happens to me
is that history?
no....
So why do we care.....
poem by Andrea Thepoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An idol of the mind is as offensive to God as an idol of the hand.
quote by Aiden Wilson Tozer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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